"You do know that I've been answering questions you haven't quite paid for yet?" Alaric replied, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. The scent of the oil—a delicate blend of herbs and flowers—drifted around them, mingling with the lingering heat from their baths.
"I owe you one at most," she replied, her voice playful but expectant.
Alaric gave a low chuckle, stepping closer so that his tall frame seemed to envelop her. He leaned in until their faces were mere inches apart, his gaze capturing hers. "All right, then," he whispered. "What was the question?"
She took a shaky breath, her legs dangling slightly from the stool as she steadied herself under his intense gaze. "Your skin, your health... everything. What happens to you in sunlight?"
"Nothing." He shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"What do you mean?" she asked, tilting her head. "The most common lore about vampires is that they can't go under the sun."
Alaric smiled, almost amused. "I told you, didn't I? I might be a different kind of vampire altogether. Yes, I crave blood and, yes, my body is naturally cold, but I've never felt any need to sleep in a coffin or avoid the sun altogether."
He paused, swirling the oil between his hands thoughtfully. "Although, it can still be irritating at times."
Salviana gave him a sympathetic smile. "It's the same for humans, really. The sun can be a bit... insistent."
She studied him thoughtfully. "So, in a way, you're almost human—but still undeniably vampiric." Her eyes sparkled with fascination as she asked, "Are there any other things you can do? Abilities you think are... different?"
Alaric smirked, shaking his head slowly. "No," he deadpanned, focusing intently on rubbing the oil between his palms.
She pouted, her brows drawing together. "Why? I want to know more about you."
He raised his gaze, and there was a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Then let's start with this," he said, a bit of challenge in his tone. "I want to oil your skin."
She opened her mouth to protest, but before she could speak, he lifted one large, smooth hand and cupped her cheek. Gently, he swiped his palm over her skin, the oil gliding softly across her face. She went wide-eyed, her words muffled against his warm hand as he gently spread the oil, his touch reverent and focused.
As he traced her cheekbones and jaw, his face was drawn into a look of deep concentration. Salviana's initial protests faded as she took in his expression, mesmerized by the intensity of his attention.
"I think," he murmured, a slight smile breaking his frown, "your freckles are becoming a bit more visible."
Her cheeks flushed a deeper pink as she replied, "It's nearly strawberry week."
"Strawberry week?" Alaric repeated, his brow quirking in confusion.
"Yes. When human women... bleed," she said, hesitating as she glanced up at him. "From three days to... however long it lasts."
Alaric froze, his expression unreadable. "Bleed?" he asked, his tone both incredulous and concerned.
"Yes, but it's... not quite as alarming as it sounds. It's... natural. An intimate part of our cycle," she explained, hoping to calm his evident confusion.
"I've noticed women in the castle would sometimes smell of blood. But it never made sense." He paused, looking troubled. "Only the men bleed when wounded. I could never understand why…"
Salviana nodded, offering him a gentle smile. "It's a part of life, Alaric. For four days, give or take, I'll bleed."
He blinked, his normally pale complexion paling further. "Four days?" he echoed in disbelief.
She laughed softly, trying to reassure him. "It's just biology."
His expression grew serious, a flicker of anxiety in his eyes. "Can't it be... stopped?"
She shook her head, smiling with amusement. "Not unless something drastic happens. And I'd rather it didn't stop anytime soon, thank you."
Alaric's jaw clenched slightly, a mixture of frustration and concern in his expression. "But how am I supposed to bear it?" he muttered, almost to himself. "The scent of your blood... for days on end."
She gave him a sympathetic look, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "Perhaps if you're... well-fed, it won't be as difficult?"
He nodded, his eyes darkening as he looked at her. "So, it's coming soon?"
"Yes. I expected it before we even went out yesterday, but maybe stress or the new environment is delaying it a bit."
Alaric seems unsettled, though he tried to mask it. "I suppose I'll have to manage," he said, but the worry in his gaze remained.
Salviana gave him a reassuring smile. "No need to fret,You'll be fine."
"Yes, but you might not," he said with a frown.
She smiled lightly, "I trust you,"
He relaxed slightly for her gaze, he didn't trust himself, he can't remember why he'd insisted she trust him before but now he didn't think that's such a good idea, taking a breath he asked. "Let's finish getting you ready, then. You said you're hungry?"
Her stomach gave a small rumble, and she laughed, nodding. "Very."
He smiled, letting the tension dissolve, focusing instead on smoothing the oil over her arms. He was tender but precise, massaging her skin with care. Salviana felt her heart flutter as she watched him—this was her husband, the man she could trust not just with her body, but with her heart.
Alaric, was in a very muddy head space, before marriage he hadn't cared how he'd live with a human wife, he was sure he must've thought if any inconvenience came up then he'll leave her but with Salviana now, he didn't even want to think about leaving her.
He wanted her to be his forever and as her warm fingers reached to clear the frown on his face he knew that he would do anything to make sure they stay together forever.
She was simply too much to lose.
And as he held her forest green eyes, and those white glistening pearl teeth that become obvious whenever she looks at him. He doesn't know what he does to make her smile but if she keeps the facade of happiness long enough maybe she'd actually become happy. Because he could barely believe that he was enough to please a person.
And as he worked in comfortable silence, the connection between them grew stronger, more profound than words could express.