As Alaric went ahead his evening, in their chambers it was bustling, while the maids moved around the chambers, Salviana couldn't help but smile to herself, reminiscing about the day's unexpected sweetness.
Riding through Wyfellon with Alaric, the gentle moments they shared, and the thoughtful way he had tried to ease her troubles—everything had left her heart brimming with warmth.
She bit her lip, her cheeks reddening at the memory of his touch and the way he looked at her. It was overwhelming and yet… comforting.
Priscilla, her maid, was visibly annoyed, her lips pressed into a thin line as she folded Salviana's dress with quick, irritated movements.
The sight of her lady so joyful clearly grated on her, though she made no effort to voice it.
Emma, on the other hand, beamed with a proud, motherly smile, looking at Salviana like a doting guardian, silently approving of her growing fondness for Alaric.
Sarah, ever the curious one, kept glancing up with barely disguised interest, her subtle questions trying to pry into what had happened during Salviana's outing.
"Did the prince take you somewhere lovely today, my lady?" Sarah asked, her tone light but her eyes gleaming with curiosity.
Salviana dodged the inquiry with ease, a soft laugh escaping her lips. "It was a peaceful day," she said simply, offering no further details, knowing well Sarah could twist her words into gossip.
The maids continued their work, helping her undress, bathe, and dress for dinner. Salviana grew restless at the fuss.
She'd never liked all of it.
The dramatics of getting ready, layer upon layer, the pins, the accessories—it was all too much. She held up a hand, her smile fading slightly.
"Enough, please. Just ready me for bed," Salviana said, her tone soft but firm. "I'd rather rest immediately after dinner tonight."
Priscilla frowned, but Emma nodded quickly, motioning for the others to prepare her nightgown instead.
As they helped her into the soft silks of her sleepwear, Salviana's thoughts drifted back to Alaric. She hadn't expected him to be so thoughtful, so considerate.
Beneath his cold exterior, she was beginning to see glimpses of a man who cared, who was trying to make this strange new marriage less burdensome for her.
The way he'd held her on the horse, the sweets he bought her, the subtle protectiveness in his actions—it all soothed her heart in a way she hadn't imagined.
He was handsome, undeniably so, but there was more to him than that. She could feel something shifting between them, something deeper.
The thought made her blush furiously, her cheeks growing warm as she twirled at the edges of her dress nervously, then feeling foolish for her giddiness.
Was this what affection felt like?
Could it grow into something even more?
Had he wanted to kiss her earlier? She reddened immediately at that thought.
She'd never been kissed before, how would it taste? Can he taste that at least? She frowned.
Would she taste nice to him? Her eyes roll as she decides to get her mind of those thoughts.
Slowly she settled into the evening, with her mind racing with a mixture of excitement and shyness, she couldn't help but wonder if things would only get lovelier as time went on.
When he comes home for dinner then she'd know what the night has planned for them.
Salviana sat by the window in her chambers, watching the last rays of sunlight dip below the horizon after her maids leave her to join the kitchen in preparing dinner.
The sky was bruised with deep purples and reds. A weirdly attention keeping colour. Salviana wasn't one to be so easily interested in anything but this evening sky made her forget as she gazed at the clouds with a smile.
The maids came moments later to ask if they could bring dinner but Salviana rejected it and asked them to wait until her husband was back.
The evening was unusually quiet, and a sense of unease had started to settle into her chest. She had been expecting Alaric to join her for dinner.
It was a small comfort, their shared meals, a chance to understand the man she now called her husband, but the evening had dragged on, and his absence began to weigh on her.
Was he skipping dinner today too? But he knew she'd eat alone if he doesn't come. And she didn't feel very good about that.
The sound of boots on stone broke the stillness of the chambers and drew her attention to the entrance.
Who was that? Was Alaric back?! a soft knock followed her thoughts and so Salviana quickly rose from her seat, eager, she smoothed the folds of her gown as she rushed down the stairs to the door.
Where were the maids?
When she opened it, Richard, one of Alaric's most trusted knights, stood there, a towering figure clad in armor.
His face was as hard as the steel he wore, with a look that seemed permanently carved in stone—stoic, emotionless. His eyes, dark and cold, betrayed no hint of warmth or sympathy. His mouth was a firm line, and his posture, though respectful, was rigid.
"Lady Salviana," Richard's voice was deep and drowsy, as if each word took effort to escape the weight of his chest. "His Highness asked me to inform you that he will not be joining you for dinner this evening. He…suggests you dine alone."
Salviana felt a flicker of concern rise in her chest. "Is something the matter?" she asked, her voice soft but edged with worry. She wanted to ask where Alaric had gone, what could be keeping him so late, but the knight's expression made it clear that no further conversation was welcome.
Richard bowed, his movements stiff and deliberate. "That is all, my lady." His voice was final, and before she could press him for answers, he had already turned on his heel, the sound of his boots echoing as he disappeared down the hall.
The door closed softly behind her, and Salviana was left standing alone in the dim light of her chambers. A sigh escaped her lips, her hand instinctively rising to press against her chest, feeling the slight quickening of her heartbeat. The silence was heavy now, filling the room in a way that made her feel more alone than before.
She walked back to the window, her eyes unfocused as they stared at the growing darkness outside. What could have pulled Alaric away this time? She wondered, her thoughts clouded with uncertainty.
It wasn't unusual for Alaric to be away for long stretches of time; he was a man of responsibility, burdened by the weight of the crown's expectations and the shadow of his own reputation.
But somehow she felt off.
She turned away from the window, shaking off the unease. Alaric's world was filled with secrets, many of which she was not yet privy to. She had learned quickly that asking too many questions, especially from his trusted men, would yield nothing but silence.
"Prepare a light dinner," she told the maids who stood waiting at the far side of the room. Her voice was steady, though she could feel the lack of enthusiasm behind it. Her appetite had vanished the moment Richard delivered the news, but she had been taught from a young age never to sleep on an empty stomach. Besides, the sweets and candies she had indulged in earlier had left her feeling unsettled and hungry in the worst way.
The maids moved quickly, laying out a simple meal—roasted quail, a small serving of vegetables, and freshly baked bread. The smells that filled the room were inviting, but Salviana felt no desire for it. Yet, despite the absence of hunger, her body demanded sustenance. She took a seat at the small dining table, her hands resting on the polished wood as she stared at the plate before her.
The first bite was mechanical, her thoughts elsewhere as she chewed without tasting. She ate hurriedly, forcing herself to focus on the motions—knife, fork, swallow—trying to quiet the anxious thoughts that swirled in her mind. With each bite, she could feel the tension in her shoulders slowly loosen, though her mind remained restless.
She pushed the empty plate aside and leaned back in her chair, her hand absentmindedly resting on her stomach. Exhaustion crept up on her, heavy and unyielding. The day had been long, and now the worry over Alaric's absence weighed on her even more than the fatigue in her limbs.
Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment, and she allowed herself to sink into the weariness. She would sleep soon, and perhaps by morning, Alaric would return, and the strange tension in the air would dissipate with him. But as she rose from the table and made her way to the bed, she couldn't shake the lingering sense of unease.
Where is he? she thought as she slipped beneath the covers, her body finally giving in to the exhaustion. And why do I feel like something is coming… something I cannot yet see?
But sleep, merciful as it was, soon claimed her, leaving her with no answers, only silence.