Alaric smirked faintly. "Why don't you tell him yourself, then?"
Lucius muttered something about bats before he finally spoke aloud. "I didn't bring her here," Alaric said with restraint.
"Technically, no, but she's here with her belongings—for you," Richard replied, a smirk tugging at his lips.
Alaric raised an eyebrow. "And you don't even like my wife."
"That's not true," Richard huffed, shrugging dismissively. "I just don't care—"
"As it should be," Alaric cut in. "Mostly." There were exceptions, of course—times when he needed Richard's loyalty to his wife's safety, particularly in his absence.
Richard rolled his eyes, his tone skeptical. "But that doesn't mean I'd condone disloyalty. When did this happen, Alaric?"
Lucius sighed theatrically. "Please tell this overgrown magic-buster to shut up."
"Nothing happened," Alaric said shortly. "She's just a guest."
Lucius muttered in his mind, "She's not just a guest; she's staying here."
Richard's narrowed gaze fixed on Alaric. "Well, are you coming to welcome her, then? Before the whole castle spins this into a new rumor?"
Alaric exhaled, the edge of a scowl on his face. "Like the one you just made up?" he shot back, but he moved forward nonetheless.
It seemed he had little choice but to meet the notorious "guest" Lucius had welcomed into his world.
~~~{────────────
Afternoon.
Hallways, Wyfkeep Castle.
Wyfellon. Wyfn-Garde.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~}~~~
As Alaric approached, he took in the sight of Jean Golliath, waiting beside the carriage. Her raven-black hair cascaded over her shoulders in dark, silken waves, framing a face that seemed both innocent and mysterious.
Her eyes, a piercing shade of blue, held a calm but unreadable gaze that caught him off guard, hinting at secrets beneath her gentle exterior.
Her figure was striking, undeniably curvaceous, with a thick, full form that made her presence feel grounded and powerful. The cut of her dress subtly accentuated her shape, drawing his attention without effort.
She seemed composed, yet something about her bearing hinted at a quiet intensity, as though she was equally capable of kindness and resilience.
She straightened immediately, offering him a polite bow.
"Your Grace, I'm Jean of House Golliath," she introduced herself formally.
"I know who you are," he replied tersely.
Jean's smile didn't waver. "I was sent here at your orders," she said, as though he might have forgotten.
Alaric arched an eyebrow, bemused. Why was she stating the obvious?
"You're here for a reason," he replied bluntly. "In case you think I have any personal interest in you—understand that I do not. I have a wife."
"I'm aware, Your Grace," Jean replied, her tone gentle and unfazed, her warm smile still firmly in place.
Lucius sighed in Alaric's mind. Alaric scoffed, irritated. "Good."
"Follow me," he instructed.
"Of course." She fell in step behind him as they walked down the cobbled path. Maids scurried to collect her luggage and trailed after them, struggling slightly under the weight of her belongings.
Alaric led her past the main quarters, stopping by the modest guest house adjacent to the staff quarters. He opened the door, gesturing for her to step inside.
"This is where you'll stay," he informed her.
Jean entered the small room, her eyes scanning the space. It was sparsely furnished, nearly bare, but she seemed unfazed by it. Instead, her eyes lit up as she looked around, already seeming to settle in, her mind likely whirling with plans.
She turned back to him with a calm smile. "What shall I do for the castle?"
"You're to serve as a lady-in-waiting," Alaric replied.
"For whom?" Jean asked, though she seemed to already know the answer.
"My wife," he replied curtly.
Jean's eyes widened slightly. "I don't believe I'm qualified for such a role, Your Grace."
He nodded, his tone deadpan. "I don't think you are either."
"Alaric…" Lucius's voice sounded a soft warning in his mind.
With a weary sigh, Alaric added, "But regardless, you'll be the lady-in-waiting."
Jean nodded, her expression composed and respectful, though he could see the glint of curiosity in her gaze. The whole arrangement was strange, but she didn't question it further.
"Is there anything else, Your Grace?" she asked.
"No," he replied firmly. "Just remember your role and why you're here. If you need anything, speak to the head maid."
She inclined her head respectfully. "Thank you, Your Grace."
As Alaric turned to leave, Lucius's voice rang in his mind with a mischievous tone.
"Tell her 'Lucius Drake' says hello."
Alaric raised an eyebrow inwardly. "Your name is Drake?"
"Focus on the task," Lucius replied, unfazed.
"Do you have any idea how unsettling that'll make me look?" Alaric retorted.
"Trust me, she already thinks the craziest things about you," Lucius responded, chuckling. "Just indulge me, will you?"
Alaric sighed, then turned to Jean, who was arranging her belongings. "Lucius Drake says hello."
At his words, Jean went ghostly pale, her eyes wide with shock. "D...Drake? You mean the Lucius Drake?"
"Yes…?" Alaric answered, uncertain of her reaction.
Before he could say another word, Jean's knees gave way, and she fainted right there, crumpling to the floor.
Alaric stared, exasperated. "Well, that went well," he muttered in his mind.
Lucius laughed smugly. "See? She already has the right level of respect."
'What? she's actively searching for me why is she fainting over my name?'
'Wake her up.' Lucius
'No, let her rest, I'm not having a conversation about you with her again, I need her to forget what I asked,'
Lucius groaned and Alaric could no longer feel his presence, he looked at the unconcious miss and wondered how she connects to all of these.
With that, he turned and left, feeling Lucius's smug amusement simmering in the back of his mind. This had better be worth it, he thought grimly, already wondering what trouble this new arrangement would bring to his castle—and to Salviana.
He didn't know how he'd talk to his wife after their heated argument but maybe having a lady-in-waiting for her was something nice.
As a friend or a gift.