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Evening.
Third Prince Chambers, Wyfkeep Castle.
Wyfellon, Wyfn-Garde.
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Alaric stepped into their chambers, his shoulders still tense from the day's grueling meetings when the scent of the space, subtly marked by Salviana's presence, greeted him warmly.
He paused, taking in small but noticeable changes around the room—her fiery hair in a comb by the window, perhaps placed by her hand.
How did she lose so much hair? He wondered with a frown.
He looked further and noticed her delicate shawl draped over a chair.
These small touches softened the room, lending it a sense of warmth he'd never felt before. Aside from his mothers lily.
Two of the maids greeted him with low curtsies and practiced smiles.
"Welcome back, Your grace," one of them said softly. "A long day, I imagine?" she asked, surprising him, he glanced at her before he nodded softly.
It was Emma.
His gaze swept the room. "It was… certainly eventful," he replied, his tone measured.
Sarah sensing his quiet anticipation, added with a knowing smile, "Lady Salviana is being readied for dinner, my lord. She has been eagerly awaiting your return."
Alaric's eyes brightened slightly, though he maintained his calm exterior. "Is she well?" he asked, though he could already feel her presence, the trace of her energy within the chambers unmistakable to him.
"Very well, my lord," Emma assured him before she left to return inside the bedroom.
Alaric sighed and decided to ready himself for dinner too, as he moved to change out of his formal attire, he caught sight of Salviana with her maids in the adjoining room, where she was being readied for dinner.
Her vibrant hair caught the dimming sunlight, casting a soft glow around her, and he felt a surge of anticipation. He wanted to hold her in his arms, the unexpected thought crossed his mind. Yet, for the moment, he'd have to wait.
With a quiet sigh, he retreated to his office, sinking into the familiar leather chair behind his desk.
The weight of the day's discussions hung heavily on him—every word and order, every calculated move they had mapped out to protect the kingdom.
But here, in the dim comfort of his own space, he allowed himself a rare pause.
His mind drifted, and before he realized it, his eyes closed, his guard slipping as exhaustion took over.
In the quiet of his chambers, the image of Salviana lingered at the edge of his thoughts, a comforting presence as he drifted into an unplanned slumber.
The gentle hum of evening surrounded him, and in the stillness, Alaric slept, a rare peace settling over him.
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Bedroom Bathroom
Salviana's Chambers, Wyfkeep Castle.
Wyfellon, Wyfn-Garde.
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As Salviana stepped out of the bathroom, her maids were already bustling around with cheerful anticipation.
"Your husband has returned, my lady," Sarah said with a smile, smoothing out Salviana's gown as they prepared her for dinner.
Salviana tried to keep her expression neutral, though her heart did an unexpected flip. The thought of seeing Alaric after the day apart brought a soft warmth that she quickly brushed aside.
Emma carefully dabbed a touch of color on Salviana's cheeks, her steady hands skilled yet gentle. "He'll be quite taken with you tonight, my lady," she commented with a grin, brushing a delicate dust of powder to finish.
As she worked, Sarah recounted her day in the market. "There was such a crowd today, my lady! And you won't believe the gossip flying around…" she continued with a conspiratorial glint in her eye.
Priscilla, however, kept a watchful eye on Salviana, gauging her reactions with a hopeful look. She clearly expected something eventful, and perhaps a bit disastrous, might happen tonight.
"I think tonight might be a memorable one for you, my lady," she said, giving Salviana's gown a final adjustment.
Salviana glanced at her, wondering what she meant before she allowed a faint smile, suppressing the slight flicker of disappointment over Alaric's rumored past, but her anticipation grew all the same. "Well," she murmured, "I suppose we'll see."
"Dinner will be waiting in the dining room," Emma added.
Salviana stood up from the front of her mirror and before she could ask how she looked Emma smiled and whispered, you look lovely my lady, she glanced at the maid, grateful.
"Where is my husband?" she asked and Emma was quick to guide her to his chambers office while Sarah stayed back arranging the room, Priscilla however rolled her eyes and went downstairs.
Salviana took a steadying breath as she stood outside Alaric's office, her hand hovering near the door. She could feel her pulse racing, anticipation building in her chest.
Emma had led her here with a gentle smile and left her with a quick nod, clearly sharing in the excitement that bubbled beneath Salviana's reserved exterior.
Straightening her gown, Salviana bit her lip, caught in a swirl of doubts.
What if she was nothing compared to the women Alaric had known? The thought stung, though she tried to brush it aside.
Why should it matter? she reminded herself. She was his wife now.
And yet, standing here, her heart beat with the unfamiliar thrill of wanting to impress him.
Gathering her courage, she finally raised her hand and tapped lightly on the door.
No answer.
After knocking on the door to her husband's office and receiving no reply, Salviana frowned, hesitating only a moment before pushing it open.
The room was dim, cloaked in a cozy warmth that, if she stayed too long, might feel oppressive.
The windows were shut tight, casting a shadowed glow over everything, but in the center of the room, she saw him—her husband, Alaric.
He sat in a high-backed chair, reclined slightly, his striking features softened by sleep. His long, jet-black hair fell across his forehead, glossy strands catching even the faintest light.
His face was all sharp angles and hard lines: a chiseled jaw, straight nose, and high cheekbones, framed by a pair of lashes so long they almost touched his cheeks.
His full, sensual lips were parted slightly as he breathed in quiet, steady rhythms. Salviana felt her heartbeat quicken.
He looked almost innocent—though in a dangerous, untouchable way that reminded her of a predator merely resting.
Drawn closer without realizing it, she took a tentative step forward. Just as she reached him, his eyes opened, black and intense as if they could see straight through her.
Salviana shivered, her breath hitching as she whispered, "You fell asleep."