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They reached their chambers now and as Salviana watched their chambermaids setting up their breakfast.
"I'm 'starving'," she drawled dramatically, quickening her pace as they moved toward their chambers' dining room.
"Didn't you get to eat at all last night?"
"I did," she answered with a sigh, "but the hot water sort of interrupted the process."
Alaric's face darkened slightly at the mention of the incident. His gaze softened as he glanced at her. "Where did it hit you?" he asked, concern slipping through his calm facade.
"My neck and shoulder," she replied, her voice tinged with discomfort.
"Show me."
Salviana froze at the unexpected request, 'Show me?' How was she going to do that? Just open her dress and let him see? She'd never undresssed in front of a man and this was an exceptionally handsome one, she glanced at him and immediately looked away, her cheeks reddening while Alaric misunderstood her flushed face for defiance, but he wanted to see how she was hurting so he took a step forward as he whispered, "Please,"
She hesitated for a moment, nervously tugging at her dress. He was her husband afterall and should've seen her completely now. "The zipper," she mumbled.
He understood the mumbled request and moved closer while she turned her back to him, he took the tip of the zip and pulled it down painfully slowly that the breathe Salviana held had to be released and she became a panting mess.
Alaric enjoyed nervousness but his nerves were also scattered at this point that he didn't relish hers. He watched the shoulders of the dress fall and he trailed his index on the smooth porcelean skin.
"Fiery?" he pressed gently.
"Mmm?" she replied, more nervous than before. His fingers on her skin made a certain part of her painfully clench and she had to breathe through her mouth.
His hands moved to her back, carefully lowering the zipper. "There's nothing here," he said after a quick inspection. "Was the water not hot?"
"It was 'hot'," she corrected him. "I held back tears." she recalled.
Alaric frowned, his brow creasing. "Has this happened before?"
She shrugged and gave a wry smile. "I haven't exactly been bathed in hot water before, but yes, I've had skin wounds that healed fast."
He took her shoulders between his large gloved palms and turned her to face him and when he caught the carelessly smile and shy reddening of her face his frown deepened. "Don't let any of the royals catch wind of that," he said firmly.
She pouted, "But—"
"Listen this time," he interrupted, his tone sharp but pleading. He couldn't bear the thought of her careless bravery putting her in danger.
If the royals know of this, he couldn't imagine what they'd put her through, the names they'd call her.
Salviana nodded obediently, her green eyes locking onto his, pure and unaffected. Alaric found himself momentarily captivated. Without thinking, his thumb swiped under her left eye as if to brush away a non-existent tear. He frowned almost immediately, irritated by the barrier of his glove. He couldn't 'feel' her skin.
The skin those vicious idiots are trying to destroy, the body that wasn't even his yet that they already plan to scar.
She was his innocent, beautiful wife but now they'd harden her if he lets them.
How could they? Mere spoilt princess's think they can do this and simply go with being punished?
She was his to do however, not theirs! He didn't marry her for them and she shouldn't go through all that.
Slowly, his anger started to increase and Salviana visibly saw and felt the surrounding change, her eyes widened at his change of demeanour, "They hurt you," he bellowed, his jaw clenching, "Stay here," he muttered to her as he turned and was about to leave the chambers but Salviana squealed, No.
She grabbed his left arm with both hands freezing him, "Please, don't go," she said.
Her heart was beating faster than she thought it could and it pierced Alaric's ear increasing his rage. She shouldn't fear them. They're a bunch of nothings!.
"I cannot let them think they can scar you and be allowed to live on," he grumbled, his jaw as hard as a stone but Salviana shook her head rapidly as she maneuvered herself to his front.
"Let it go, Alaric," he looked down at her, his black orbs endless with unleashed anger. She shivered slightly from the intensity before she whispered, her hopeful eyes not leaving his, "They're already accusing you of the revenge action, don't attract even more troubles, I don't want you to,"
'I don't you to,' Those words echoed in his brain, she wanted something from him, and it sadly had to be of him not to fight for her.
He had been so close to tearing whoever had tried to scar her apart, but Salviana's eyes—her soft, pleading eyes stopped him. She didn't want bloodshed, even for her own sake.
Perhaps because she knew she could heal anything thrown on her.
The realization snapped him back to reality, making him step back and take a steadying breath. His usual restraint returned. "Don't be careless just because you know you can heal."
"Yes, Your Grace," she teased, though her tone was more playful than mocking.
"Alaric," he corrected softly, a slight smile curling his lips.
"I thought it was forbidden," she said with a smirk. "Are you trying to have my head removed?"
"You are my wife," he replied simply, the weight of that title settling between them.
Salviana giggled, mimicking him under her breath. 'You are my wife,' she repeated in a mockingly serious tone, as her fingers reached for her zipper again.
Alaric stepped forward when he noticed, the faintest flush on his face as he helped her adjust the dress, his hands moving with precision. But as he did, he couldn't help but feel the weight of everything that had happened.
His wife, spirited and resilient, was somehow finding her way into his heart—something he hadn't expected. He had thought he would be the problem in their relationship, but it seemed his people were already deciding to join her in the same hate they harbored for him, and he wasn't ready to allow that.
She is his wife!