As Salviana came out of the bedroom, a knock came, guards sent by the Ladies' Court. Her maids fluttered around her, smoothing her dress, adjusting her hair, and fastening delicate jewelry as she tried to calm her nerves.
Despite the lingering apprehension at the sudden call, hope blossomed in her heart. Perhaps they were finally inviting her into their circle. The mere thought brought a quiet joy to her chest, and soon, she was dressed and ready, a small, excited smile gracing her lips.
Entering the court's sitting room, however, Salviana felt her heart sink. The air was thick with tension; cold, judging eyes turned on her as she stepped inside.
Faces she knew from passing greetings now seemed rigid and hostile. She hesitated, almost retreating, but steadied herself, lifting her chin and walking forward. She couldn't show fear—she was Alaric's wife, after all.
