"Until?" Salviana pressed, sensing the weight of an unfinished story.
"Until I began craving blood more than I could control. I kept my distance to keep her safe," Alaric admitted, his voice quiet with regret.
"By the time I could return to her as a friend, too much had changed. She wouldn't let go of the past, and now…" He trailed off, his jaw tightening.
"She might like you," Salviana said carefully, her voice soft. "Romantically, I mean. She probably thinks I've replaced her."
Alaric's brows furrowed, his emerald gaze darkening. "That's blasphemous," he muttered under his breath. "I've had Lucius keeping an eye on her. Ignore her, Salviana. She isn't worth your thoughts."
He reached out, tucking a stray lock of her hair behind her ear with surprising tenderness. The simple gesture made her heart flutter despite the heavy topic.
Salviana sighed but nodded. "Alright. What else did you miss?" she asked, changing the subject with a smile.
"Gists!" she added with a dramatic groan, leaning back on her folded legs like a child. The sight made Alaric chuckle softly.
"Then tell me everything," he said, his tone lighter now.
Her green eyes lit up. "The Queen invited me to her chambers," she squealed, barely containing her excitement.
Alaric raised a brow. "That is a surprise. What did she want?"
"To welcome me, it seems," Salviana shrugged.
"Absolute hogwash," Alaric scoffed under his breath.
Salviana glared at him. "She's nice. And lonely, I think. She shared her hobby of embroidery with me."
Alaric leaned forward, his expression skeptical. "Embroidery? A queen?"
"She's still a woman, Alaric," Salviana said firmly. "She spoke of feeling alone in the field, so I offered to learn embroidery with her."
Alaric nearly bolted upright. "You what?"
"I just want to keep her company," she replied cautiously, unsure of his sudden intensity.
He groaned, running a hand through his hair. "All her daughters refused, and my wife decides to take up the task. You could hurt yourself—the needles, Salviana!"
"I'll be careful," she assured him. "I even went to the market to get materials."
Alaric's eyes widened in shock. "You what?" he repeated, his voice louder this time.
Salviana groaned again, letting her head drop dramatically onto the bed. "I wanted to get them myself. I enjoyed the outing."
"You went to the marketplace during wartime?" Alaric's voice softened, but his disbelief lingered. "That was reckless, Salviana. Spies could've been anywhere."
"I had Jean and a lovely coachman with me," she said nonchalantly, smiling as she sat up.
"Who was the coachman?" Alaric asked, his tone measured but his eyes gleaming with suspicion.
Salviana scoffed playfully. "Do you even know the names of anyone below the rank of nobility? You didn't even know Rose existed."
"She wasn't important," Alaric countered, his lips twitching into a smirk. "But I know the right people."
"His name was Manni," Salviana said, their hands naturally tangling together as they spoke.
Alaric froze mid-motion, narrowing his eyes. "Why do you remember his name?"
"He was nice," she replied innocently.
"Of course," Alaric muttered under his breath, though the corners of his lips betrayed his amusement. His possessiveness was growing with time, but thankfully, it wasn't unbearable—yet.
Salviana believed Alaric could never become unbearable—not to her.
He cared in a way that was both protective and sincere, always wanting to shield her from harm.
Yet, a small voice in her mind whispered doubts.
Was she being delusional?
Could a vampire, a creature often considered selfish by nature, truly be selfless?
Even so, she decided. Even if he were unbearable, I would accept him as he is.
Shaking her head to banish the dark thoughts, she met Alaric's intense black eyes. His gaze was fixed on her, attentive and unwavering. She couldn't help but smile.
"I'll show the Queen my progress soon," she said, referring to the embroidery she had started for the Queen's sake.
"Just don't get too tangled in her web of loneliness," Alaric replied, his voice tinged with both concern and teasing.
"Thank you," Salviana murmured. She stretched her legs to ease the slight stiffness, but Alaric grabbed them mid-motion, gently guiding her legs to rest across his lap. They now faced each other on the bed.
Heat rose to Salviana's cheeks.
The memory of his head between her thighs last night flashed unbidden in her mind, and she quickly averted her gaze.
"And she talked about your mother," she blurted out, her voice slightly breathless.
"Oh?" Alaric arched a brow, intrigued yet skeptical.
"She said I was pretty," Salviana continued, her voice softening. "And that Queen Reannon would've loved me. I was elated to hear that. Knowing that at least your mother wouldn't have been like some of the other women in this castle… it made me feel better. And—"
A sudden knock at the door interrupted her mid-sentence.
She froze, but before she could react, Alaric's arms encircled her waist, pulling her close.
"Your Grace," came a voice from outside, but Alaric only tightened his hold on her.
"What do you think they want?" he whispered, his lips brushing against hers.
"To talk?" she replied, smiling too much for her own good.
Her response earned her a chaste kiss, then another, and another. Alaric couldn't resist.
The thought of his mother approving of Salviana had touched something deep within him. She was his treasure, and knowing that Queen Reannon would've seen that too filled him with quiet joy.
And he also didn't want her to leave with the maids.
"Your Grace, we've brought snacks and milk punch," Emma's voice called through the door.
"I'd love some milk punch," Salviana said, still smiling as Alaric sighed dramatically.
Without another word, Salviana heard the door creak open. Her eyes widened in surprise—he hadn't moved from the bed.
How could he open the door with his mind?
Was it magic?
She would love to know! Could he move humans too?
Can he cook? Can he help her do embroidery without her touching it? …