She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled. He was so handsome. She wanted to eat him this made her giggle and blush while Alaric listened to her heartbeat with a smile.
After he opened the door she knew he would want to use his camp speed to take them back but she didn't want that. She wanted to be seen.
She hated the castle to know her husband cherished her so she mumbled, "Don't speed off, let's walk like humans,"
"Yes, my lady" he chuckled lightly as he dropped a kiss on her finger that had managed to reach his lip when she couldn't trailing then all over where her hand could touch.
This was her life now and she loved it!
They started to walk home.
The castle corridors were quiet save for the occasional whispers of maids and the distant clink of a knight's armour.
The soft glow of torches on the stone walls illuminated the striking sight of Alaric, the powerful lord of the realm, striding confidently through the halls. In his arms, Salviana lay, her hair cascading over his arm like fire against his dark cloak.
She was smiling—a rare, radiant smile—and her cheeks glowed with a deep blush that made her look even more beautiful to him. Her hands, seemingly unable to stay still, were busy exploring his face.
Her fingers grazed his strong jawline. "Your jaw is so sharp, Alaric," she murmured, tracing it as if testing its edges. "Are you secretly cutting paper with this?"
He smirked, his fangs barely visible as he glanced down at her. "If I said yes, would it amuse you or scare you?"
Salviana chuckled, a soft, musical sound. "I'd be proud," she teased, lifting a hand to poke his nose.
Alaric's brow arched, and he stopped momentarily in the middle of the hallway. "Did you just punch my nose?"
"You do it to me all the time!" she countered, her voice rising slightly in playful indignation.
"Yes, but your nose is so soft. Mine is not," he replied, his voice full of mirth.
"I don't care. Fair is fair!" She poked his nose again, her fingers lingering awkwardly over the unfamiliar angle of its firmness.
Alaric chuckled deeply, the sound vibrating in his chest where her head had rested moments ago. "If you don't stop, I'll bite you," he warned, his eyes glinting with a mischievous glow.
Her eyes widened, but she smiled. "You wouldn't dare!"
"Oh, wouldn't I?" he said, his tone low and teasing.
Deciding not to test him—at least not yet—Salviana moved her hands up to his hair instead. "You're impossible," she muttered, tugging at his dark strands.
"Careful, wife," he said, though his tone lacked any real threat.
She giggled and they continued their walk.
After the door closed behind them, the world outside their chambers seemed to fade into nothingness.
The whispers, the stares, the weight of courtly obligations—all of it melted away, leaving only the quiet sanctuary of their room.
The fireplace crackled gently, casting a warm glow over the space, and a faint aroma of lavender lingered in the air.
Alaric set Salviana down carefully on the plush chaise near the fireplace. She sighed, sinking into its comfort, and gazed up at him with a soft smile. He returned the look, his dark eyes filled with something unspoken but warm.
"You're not going to let me stay here and starve, are you?" she teased, tilting her head.
He chuckled and shook his head. "Stay here, my queen. I'll have dinner brought in."
Before she could protest, he strode to the door, issuing quiet orders to the nearest maid. Moments later, a meal was delivered—simple yet hearty dishes of roasted meats, warm bread, spiced wine, and a bowl of ripe fruit.
Alaric carried the tray to a small table by the fire and gestured for her to join him. "Come, wife. Let's eat."
She approached the table, her steps light but graceful. "You've never served me before, Alaric," she said, sitting across from him.
"There's a first time for everything," he replied, pouring her a goblet of wine. His voice carried a teasing edge, but his gaze softened as he pushed a plate toward her.
They ate together in comfortable silence at first, the crackling fire filling the room with warmth. Salviana occasionally caught him watching her, and each time, she felt her cheeks heat up.
"What is it?" she finally asked, setting down her goblet.
"You look happy," he said simply, leaning back in his chair. "It suits you."
Her blush deepened, but she smiled. "I am happy. It's… peaceful tonight."
"Peaceful is rare," he agreed, reaching out to brush his fingers against hers. "But I like it."
The conversation flowed more easily as the meal continued, their laughter soft and genuine. Salviana told him about her day, sharing little details about her new lady-in-waiting and the antics of the younger maids. Alaric listened intently, his gaze never leaving her.
"And then," Salviana said, stifling a laugh, "I saw Princess Jollene nearly tripped over the hem of her own dress trying to bow."
Alaric laughed, the sound deep and rich. "I suppose the castle will need to assign her lessons in balance next."
"You're terrible," she said, giggling.
"Terrible? I carried you through the halls, wife," he countered, raising a teasing brow.
She rolled her eyes. "Yes, and made sure everyone saw. I'll never hear the end of it."
"Good," he said, smirking. "Let them talk."
"I wanted that too," she whispered with a smile.
After dinner, they moved to the bed, the world still quiet and calm around them. Alaric pulled her close, his arms strong and reassuring as they lay together. She nestled against him, her head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
"You're unusually warm for a vampire," she murmured, trailing a finger along his collarbone.
"It's your fault," he replied, his voice low.
"Oh? How so?"
"You make me feel human," he admitted softly, pressing a kiss to her hair.