Alaric's expression tightened. "I'm busy with my wife right now. We can talk another time."
Genevieve's smile faltered, her gaze flicking to Salviana for the first time, sharp and full of disdain. "Then tell your wife to go back to her chambers, or wherever she wants to be, so we can have a proper conversation."
Salviana's cheeks burned with indignation, but she remained silent, her posture straight and composed.
Alaric's jaw clenched visibly. His grip on Salviana's waist tightened as he took a deliberate step closer to her. "Genevieve," he said coldly, "I don't have the patience for your tantrums today. Leave us."
Genevieve's eyes flared with fury, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Fine," she hissed, spinning on her heel. Her skirts flared dramatically as she stormed off, her perfect image marred by her obvious anger.
Salviana watched her go, her thoughts a jumble of confusion and irritation. "What's your relationship with her?" she asked as they resumed their walk.
"She's my cousin," Alaric replied easily, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
"Maybe she doesn't know that," Salviana muttered bitterly.
Alaric chuckled softly. "She's always been a bit clingy. Come on."
But Salviana couldn't shake the possessive glare Genevieve had directed at her. It lingered in her mind, stirring emotions she didn't quite know how to name.
As though sensing her unease, Alaric stopped abruptly, turning her to face him. His dark eyes met her green ones, steady and sincere. He placed his hands on her shoulders, grounding her.
"You are my wife, Salviana," he said, his voice low and firm. "And I will always choose you."
Salviana blinked, his words sinking in and soothing the tension in her chest. She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips.
Satisfied, Alaric leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, lingering just long enough to make her heart flutter.
As they resumed their walk, Salviana's earlier irritation melted away. Her face brightened, and soon she was smiling, her spirits lifted once more.
The clang of swords against shields echoed in the warm afternoon air as Salviana and Alaric strolled into the knights' training ground. The knights were a blur of movement—sparring, running drills, and testing their strength in preparation for the upcoming war.
Salviana's eyes wandered over the scene, captivated by the raw power and precision of the warriors. Their muscular forms glistened with sweat, their movements fluid yet ferocious. The occasional shout of encouragement or laughter broke through the otherwise tense atmosphere.
"Impressive," she murmured, tilting her head to get a better view of a particularly fierce bout.
Alaric's jaw tightened as he noticed the sidelong glances his knights threw in Salviana's direction. Some straightened their postures, others flexed a little harder than necessary, clearly showing off for the lady.
"You're enjoying this too much," Alaric muttered, stepping closer to block her line of sight.
Salviana giggled, her cheeks tinged with a rosy blush. "Can you blame me? It's a fascinating sight. Look at them—so focused, so disciplined. And their forms—"
"I *see* them," Alaric interrupted, his tone laced with irritation. "But you've seen enough."
Before Salviana could protest, Alaric grabbed her hand and started leading her away.
"Are you jealous?" she teased, her laughter bubbling out as she tried to keep up with his long strides.
"Jealous? Of them?" Alaric scoffed. "I simply refuse to let my wife ogle shirtless men with swords. You're supposed to be looking at me."
"Well, you didn't give me a show, my lord," Salviana quipped, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
Alaric grunted, but the faintest smirk tugged at his lips. "Come on. I know something better than this sweaty spectacle."
The Castle Fish Pond
The air was cooler by the time they reached the castle's fish pond. Tucked behind a grove of trees, it was a serene escape from the bustle of the knights' grounds. The pond stretched wide, its crystal-clear surface reflecting the sky's soft hues of blue and gold. Stone pathways circled it, lined with trimmed hedges and benches. The sweet scent of blooming jasmine mixed with the earthy aroma of the water.
Several workers bustled about, maintaining the pond. Some skimmed the surface for fallen leaves, while others tended to the edges, ensuring the plants around it thrived. A few maids lingered nearby, their hands clasped politely as they observed their lord and lady.
Salviana approached the pond, her steps slowing as she caught sight of the vibrant fish gliding beneath the surface. "They're beautiful," she whispered, leaning slightly to get a better look.
"Koi," Alaric said, his tone softening.
"Koi?" she repeated, glancing at him.
"Yes," he stepped closer, his dark eyes lighting up with rare excitement. "They're a type of ornamental fish. They're considered symbols of perseverance, strength, and prosperity."
Salviana watched him as he spoke, his voice animated in a way she hadn't seen before. "I didn't know you liked fish this much."
"These koi aren't just fish," Alaric explained, crouching near the edge of the pond. "Each one is unique. Their patterns, their colors—reds, whites, golds, and even blues. See that one?" He pointed at a large koi with shimmering golden scales. "That's an Ogon. It represents success. And that one with the red circle on its head? A Kohaku. A symbol of purity and love."
Salviana knelt beside him, her skirts fanning out on the ground. "You know so much about them," she said, a smile tugging at her lips.
"I've always found them calming," Alaric admitted, his fingers brushing the surface of the water. A few koi swam closer, curious about his hand. "And I like that they're survivors. They adapt, thrive even in harsh conditions. They remind me of someone."
Salviana raised an eyebrow. "Who?"
"You."
She blinked, taken aback, before a soft laugh escaped her. "You're being sweet."
"It's the truth," he said simply.
One of the maids approached, carrying a small box. "Your grace, the koi eggs arrived from the city. Shall we place them in the nursery pond?"