Christina blinked, clearly unconvinced. "Love? Who's the man?"
A bashful smile crept onto Jollene's face as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Oh, it's a boy I saw today. He winked at me."
Christina's brows shot up in curiosity, and she leaned forward, intrigued despite herself. "Where did you meet him? What was he doing?"
"Jumping over the fence," Jollene replied matter-of-factly, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
Christina's confusion deepened. "What fence?"
"The castle fence, of course," Jollene said with a shrug, utterly oblivious to the absurdity of her words.
"What were you doing so close to the castle fences?" Christina asked, her tone growing suspicious.
"Why shouldn't I be? I can go wherever I want," Jollene shot back with a scoff, crossing her arms defensively.
Christina narrowed her eyes. "Why are you being so cagey? Did he pass you a letter or something?"
Jollene waved the suggestion away with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. "Oh, I don't know what he came for. But he gave me a disarming wink," she said, blushing furiously.
"Jollene," Christina began, her voice heavy with skepticism, "was he jumping in or out of the fence?"
"Out," Jollene replied, her brow furrowing slightly.
Christina threw her hands in the air. "Jollene, that's an intruder, you absolute idiot!"
The realization dawned on Jollene, and she darted closer to Christina's bed, glancing nervously over her shoulder as though the intruder might still be lurking behind her. "An intruder?"
"Yes! Probably a spy! How could you be so reckless? And he winked at you? So what? You're ready to marry someone you don't even know?" Christina fired back, her words dripping with exasperation.
"I give up," Jollene said with a defeated sigh, flopping onto the bed and staring up at the ceiling.
Christina pushed her off the bed unceremoniously. "You don't know what you're doing! Go find Commander Wall and tell him what you saw while I try to salvage what's left of my morning."
"You're a bad sister!" Jollene bellowed dramatically, strutting out of the room with her head held high.
"And you're an idiot!" Christina called after her, shaking her head as she flopped back down onto her pillow.
~~~{───────
~~~~~~~~~~~}~~~
As evening deepened and the castle was bathed in hues of orange and purple, Salviana paced her chambers restlessly.
Alaric had been gone all day, and despite her best efforts to keep busy, an ache of longing settled in her chest. She glanced toward the window, watching the horizon darken. Her patience snapped.
She stood abruptly, smoothing her gown with determined hands. "I can't sit here any longer," she muttered to herself before calling for the guards stationed outside her door.
"Take me to my husband's office," she commanded, her voice firmer than usual.
Yesterday in his office she'd whispered maybe to his comment about her coming to his office for the first time but she couldn't possibly forget the first time he made her sit on his thighs and it couldn't have been in any other room.
The guards exchanged uncertain glances but nodded, leading her down the grand staircases and through the sprawling corridors of the castle. Salviana followed them with purposeful strides, her heart thumping in her chest.
As they neared their destination, a commotion drew her attention. A maid was being dragged out of a chamber down the hall, her face pale and streaked with tears.
"That's the fifth princess's wing," Salviana thought, slowing her steps. The whispered voices of other maids caught her ear as they passed.
"Can you believe it? She actually tried to seduce the crown prince!"
"With Princess Lilian in the same castle? She's lucky she's only being thrown out," another replied, shaking her head. "The audacity!"
Salviana shook her head at the scandal. Drama seems to thrive here like ivy on castle walls. She wondered idly who had caught the bold maid—Lilian herself or the crown prince.
And had the prince rejected the advance, or had he been caught red-handed? She sighed, brushing the thought aside.
But then, a traitorous idea slipped into her mind: What are the odds I find a maid perched on Alaric's lap?
The image was so absurd, so far-fetched, that she laughed aloud before she could stop herself. The sudden sound startled the guards, and even Salviana pressed a hand to her mouth, embarrassed by her outburst.
Clearing her throat, she resumed her stride, her cheeks flushed. "Focus," she told herself. Alaric isn't like that.
The guards tried to maintain their stoic expressions, though their unease was evident. Salviana caught the flicker of nervousness in their postures.
What could they be so afraid of? she wondered.
Was it Alaric's temper? Or was it the possibility that someone—or something—unusual might be with him?
The closer they got to Alaric's office, the more her curiosity burned. And yet, deep down, Salviana felt a flicker of confidence.
She trusted her husband. But trust didn't extinguish the need to see him, to ensure he was truly hers, surrounded by no one but her.
Finally, they reached the heavy oak doors of his office. The guards stopped, bowing slightly as they gestured for her to enter. Salviana took a deep breath, straightened her gown, and pushed the doors open.
Whatever lay beyond, she would face it with her head held high.
The grand doors of Alaric's office creaked open, and Salviana stepped into the dimly lit room, the faint scent of parchment and ink filling the air.
The space was elegant, as expected, with a rich tapestry of ancient maps adorning the walls, each depicting a kingdom or a battle plan.
But it was the map sprawled across his desk that caught her eye—its dark lines marking territory she could only guess at, circles and arrows that seemed to pulse with meaning, as if they had a life of their own.
It was a momentary distraction, her curiosity pulling her in before she realized that Alaric's attention was already fully on her.
Inside, there was a shuffle, and then Alaric's deep voice sounded, soft yet unmistakable. "Come in."