The garden was a masterpiece of vibrant blooms, each petal kissed by sunlight, casting a soft, golden glow over everything.
Salviana walked among the flowers, the sweet fragrance surrounding her like an embrace.
As she moved deeper into the garden, her gaze fell on Alaric, who was crouched by a cluster of flowers, his dark hair catching the light in a way that made him look softer, almost tender.
She took a few silent steps forward, planning to tap his shoulder, but before she could reach him, he turned and caught her gaze with a small, warm smile.
"Enjoying the view?" he teased, his voice low and rich, as if he'd been waiting for her all along.
Before she could respond, he rose and, with a fluid motion, swept her up into his arms. His touch felt different, familiar yet strangely new—his fingers were bare and warmer than she'd ever felt.
Her heart fluttered as he carried her to a nearby bench, where he sat her down gently, never breaking eye contact. They were alone in this serene world, and Salviana felt her heart pounding.
In the glow of the garden, his features softened but somehow grew even more striking. She reached up almost instinctively, her hand moving to touch his hair, her fingers weaving through the soft strands.
He caught her wrist, holding it to his lips, his kiss melting her with a warmth that made her smile despite herself.
His hand slid to her waist, drawing her closer until they were nearly touching, the bench shrinking with the intensity of their closeness.
The moment was electric, her heart racing as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers brushing her cheek.
She drew a sharp breath, anticipation filling her every nerve. He gently cupped her face, steadying her, his gaze intent and unwavering.
She closed her eyes, feeling his warmth as he leaned in, her senses keenly aware of everything—the softness of his touch, the way his breath mingled with hers, his face just inches from her own.
Her heart hammered as she braced herself for the kiss, for the spark she felt waiting between them.
But just as she would feel his lips press against hers, she woke with a sharp intake of breath, the softness of her pillow beneath her and the ceiling above her, stark and unchanged.
She lay there, heart pounding, blinking up at the ceiling as the vivid dream faded but left a lingering ache.
What 'would' it feel like, kissing Alaric? She sighed again
Why was she having this dreams? This was the second time and she doesn't like feeling like a pervert but it seems to be all her subconscious thought of, also a partial thought of her conscious.
She really wanted to know if his kiss would be soft or dangerous and strong, invading like he has invaded everything that's hers.
Would it feel better than candy floss?
She sighed deeply, frustration and longing mixing within her. Groaning, she flung her legs up like she's fighting invisible beings as she squealed lightly.
"Fiery?"
She froze, her legs mid air. Alaric!
She had completely forgotten that he was at home, it was morning of course he'd be at home how could she have forgotten. "Salviana?" he called again.
"Yes?" She mumbled meekly, embarrassment flushing her skin red.
"What are you doing?" He asked calmly, his morning voice hoarse and manly.
Slowly, she dropped her leg that she had forgotten that she was holding up still, glanced at him, 'Thinking about kissing you' she mused but she couldn't possibly say that out loud.
"Good morning," she said instead, her eyes distant.
This morning was demanding, there's nothing good about it.
She pouted but he didn't seem to notice because he headed for the door while she still lied on the bed facing the ceiling.
"I'd be back by the night," he said but no answer came after him.
She was wondering when he'd woken up, gotten dressed and was even about to leave.
"Stay out of trouble," he added but her reply didn't come as she lay gazing at the chandeliers.
He turned around and with inhuman speed he was by the bed, his face upside down as he gazed at her, "Mmm?" her eyes closed instinctively from the gush of wind.
As Salviana opened her eyes to the sight of Alaric standing beside the bed, she had't seen him since, he was already dressed in his dark tunic and armor, her pulse quickened. Every detail of him, from his intense dark eyes to the strength in his jawline, was almost too much to take in, especially when he looked like that, all dark elegance and quiet strength.
He was striking, and yet distant, as though some unseen barrier kept him just out of her reach.
He's my husband, she thought, her gaze tracing over him slowly. But why does he feel so… untouchable?
A hint of frustration fluttered in her chest, mixing with the steady rhythm of her admiration. We're bound together, and yet, he hasn't once tried to hold me close.
Why hasn't he kissed me? The thought made her cheeks warm. Does he not want to?
Or is he… waiting for something? Maybe he's not ready. Maybe I'm not ready.
The idea that he might not desire her stung more than she wanted to admit. She let herself wonder, her heart pounding with a strange vulnerability, Is he being distant because he regrets marrying me?
Her gaze shifted to his hands, rough and strong, his fingers curling ever so slightly around his belt. Those hands… what would they feel like on my skin? She swallowed, fighting the thought but unable to ignore the faint spark it sent through her.
Does he not feel the same? Or is he hiding it, waiting for me to make the first move?
A strange urge rose within her—to reach out, to touch his hand and feel if he'd pull back or let her fingers linger. How could I be so near to him, bound by vows, yet feel this longing?
She didn't understand why he kept his distance, yet some part of her wanted to lean in, to see if he'd close the space between them.
If only he knew how much I wish he'd break this silence, touch me just once… She sighed softly, casting one last look at him, her mind lingering on the unspoken desire that left her caught between hope and doubt as he prepared to leave.
"Yes," she mumbled, her heart wild from how close their faces are and the damn dream resurfacing.
She felt hot and slightly bothered.
Alaric bent dropped a kiss on both her cheeks and her forehead and then left before she could register any.
She blinked as her hand slowly reached for her face, she palmed both cheeks and let out a girly squeal. Unbeknownst to her, her husband was also leaning by the door at that moment and listening to her with his vamp super hearing ability.
He reddened and felt giddy with a boyish grin when he heard her squeal before he left.
Turning away, he moved toward the door, grabbing his sword and glancing around the room one last time, the familiar comforts tugging at him.
Richard stood outside, his expression tense but patient. "The council is on edge, my lord."
Alaric nodded, tightening his grip on the hilt of his sword. "Let them wait a bit longer," he muttered. "No one wakes my wife if I can help it." Then, with a last look toward their chambers, he strode down the hall beside Richard, steeling himself for whatever awaited him.