"I'm simply amazed by you—the things you can do leave me speechless. Do you want to try again?"
Blushing, Salviana nodded. "Yes, I have you here." Her words made him smile, and even Jean couldn't help but swoon.
"I want to see Lucius Drake," Salviana declared with renewed determination. A tense silence followed as she froze, her focus sharpening.
"Where is the coffin?" Jean asked softly.
"It's… dark and lonely," Salviana said hesitantly, her words measured. "It's in a tomb."
Jean's eyes brightened with hope. "You're doing well. Maybe try to see where the tomb is—"
"Ruins," Salviana interrupted, her voice firmer. "It's in ruins."
Jean's breath hitched. "Is he alive?"
Salviana's gaze snapped to Jean, her expression intense. "Of course not," she said with a no-nonsense tone, her eyes bloodshot.
Jean recoiled slightly, surprised by the outburst.
"Salviana," Alaric called softly, pulling her attention back to him. His black eyes held hers with a steady calm. "Are you all right?"
"Yes," Salviana replied, her voice robotic.
Jean, attempting to lighten the mood, whispered to Lucius, "I think you look hideous, and now she's completely shaken."
"I can hear you," Salviana murmured. "And no, he looks pale as ashes but… he's good-looking."
'I knew it!' Lucius exclaimed triumphantly.
Alaric's eyes widened in dismay. "Fiery?!" he whined.
"What, my dearest husband?" Salviana asked sweetly, tilting her head.
"You compliment another man," he grumbled, glaring.
"He's a ghost," Salviana pointed out with a playful smirk.
"It matters still," Alaric sulked, his possessiveness catching Jean off guard. She hadn't realized he could be this endearing.
"I won't again," Salviana promised, leaning against him affectionately.
Lucius grumbled impatiently. "It's getting close to dinner. Are we done with this conversation?"
"Do ghosts eat?" Salviana asked curiously.
"Pumpkin needs to eat!" Lucius bellowed, earning a laugh from Salviana.
"What is happening here?" she teased, glancing around.
"I wonder, too," Alaric replied dryly, making Jean blush while Lucius scoffed.
Lucius cleared his throat dramatically. "All right, now that we're all on the same page: we hear each other, we find me, and wake me up. Then we can continue this conversation properly."
They all nodded in agreement as Alaric rose, helping Salviana to her feet.
Jean bowed politely. "I'm sorry I couldn't offer you anything to drink."
"It's all right," Salviana assured her with a smile as they left, heading back to their chambers.
The soft knock at the chamber door was followed by a hesitant voice. "Your Grace, may we come in?"
Salviana glanced at Alaric, who was lounging beside her, his gloved fingers twirling a strand of her hair absently. He gave a slight nod, and Salviana called out, "Come in."
The door creaked open to reveal two maids, one of whom gently nudged a younger girl forward. She was petite with delicate features, her hands clasped nervously in front of her apron.
"This is Thalia, Your Grace," one of the older maids announced. "She's just joined us and wanted to introduce herself."
Thalia curtsied, her voice steady despite her clear nerves. "Your Grace, it's an honor to serve you. I'm skilled in embroidery, and if there's ever anything you need, I'd be more than happy to assist."
Salviana tilted her head, pleasantly surprised by the maid's confidence and clear diction. She offered a kind smile. "Thank you, Thalia. That's wonderful to know. I've been thinking about working on something soon—I'll let you know when I do."
Thalia's face lit up, her nerves dissipating slightly. "It would be my pleasure, Your Grace."
Alaric, still toying with Salviana's hair, gave a small hum of approval, though his gaze never left his wife. "She sounds educated," he commented idly, his tone betraying no particular emotion.
"She does," Salviana agreed, her smile growing. "It's good to have skilled and resourceful people around."
Thalia's cheeks flushed under the praise, and she curtsied again.
"Thank you, Your Grace. If there's nothing else, I'll leave you to your day," she said.
Before Salviana could respond, a gentle knock interrupted them again, and another maid appeared at the doorway. "Dinner is ready, Your Grace," she announced.
Salviana rose gracefully, adjusting her dress. "Thank you. Alaric?" She turned to her husband, who reluctantly released the strand of hair he'd been holding.
"I suppose I'll allow it," he teased, offering his arm to her.
As they made their way to the dining room, Salviana glanced over her shoulder at Thalia, giving her a reassuring nod. "I look forward to seeing your embroidery, Thalia."
Thalia beamed. "Thank you, Your Grace."
With that, the couple disappeared down the corridor, leaving the new maid buzzing with excitement at the prospect of serving a mistress as kind and approachable as Salviana.
The dining room was quiet, save for the soft clinking of silverware against porcelain. A warm golden light bathed the room, casting a serene glow over the couple seated across from each other. Salviana was halfway through her meal when she finally broke the silence.
"Do you know," she began, her tone light yet curious, "you were at war during my strawberry week?"
Alaric paused, his fork halfway to his mouth. His dark eyes flicked up to meet hers. "Strawberry week?"
"My period," she clarified with a small laugh, her cheeks coloring faintly.
A flicker of amusement passed over his face before it was replaced by thoughtfulness. "And you're wondering what it would be like with me here?"
She nodded, watching him carefully. "I just… I've thought about it. How you'd handle it, or if you'd—"
He set his fork down and leaned back in his chair, his gaze turning serious. "I wonder about that too," he admitted, his voice soft. "Your scent… it's already hard to ignore. And during… that time?" He exhaled, shaking his head. "I fear I might not have enough restraint. I might have to leave for awhile"
Salviana tilted her head, her brows knitting together. "You're stronger than you think, Alaric. You've proven that."
"But what if I'm not?" he countered, his hand brushing through his hair in frustration. "The thought of hurting you because of my… lack of control—it terrifies me, Salviana."