"I was insecure," she admitted, her voice trembling.
Alaric wrapped his arms tightly around her, his tone soft yet firm. "You've been hurt so many times before. I understand. But I want you to know, I see you—not just your gift, not just the roles others expect of you—but you."
A small smile crept onto Salviana's face as she exhaled a shaky breath. "You're the best, Alaric. I can't wait to start painting again."
"So," he teased, his voice lightening as they both settled into the moment. "You're the divine painter of the future, are you?"
Salviana chuckled but sat up, her expression suddenly thoughtful. "I think I might be more than that," she said, her golden eyes meeting his.
"What do you mean, my fiery wife?" Alaric asked, intrigued.
Her hands fidgeted in her lap. "Something strange happened while you were away. I…I think I might be a seer."
Alaric's brows furrowed as he tilted his head. "A seer? What makes you think that?"
She leaned forward, her excitement growing as she recalled the incident. "I was at the tea meeting with the women of the castle, and I just…said it. I predicted Florence would give birth to a boy. The words came out before I could stop them. Everyone was uncomfortable, but I knew it was true."
Alaric's eyes widened. "Wow," he said, his voice low with wonder. Salviana flushed, thinking he was amazed at her revelation. But then, he added, "Florence is pregnant? I never thought she could do it!"
"Alaric!" Salviana pouted, crossing her arms.
He laughed, realizing his mistake. "I'm sorry! I'm just…surprised. She always swore she was cursed and could never conceive."
"Well, she's pregnant," Salviana huffed. Then, with a mischievous smile, she added, "And your wife might just be a witch."
Alaric's expression shifted, his gaze softening. "I know you're not," he said, his voice steady. "You're special, Salviana, but you're not like Richard."
"Richard?" Salviana blinked. "He's a witch?"
"A wizard," Alaric corrected. "One of the few left. But he's conniving and arrogant. Not someone you should concern yourself with."
Salviana gasped. "I always thought there was something off about him. So pompous and distant."
Alaric nodded, his tone turning serious. "Ignore him. He's not worth your attention."
Salviana leaned closer, a playful glint in her eye. "The only one who has my attention is my husband."
Alaric laughed, the tension lifting as he pressed another kiss to her forehead. "Yes, dearest wife."
They sat together in the quiet parlour, wrapped in each other's warmth, the weight of their truths shared and understood. For now, the castle felt safe, and in each other's arms, they found a moment of peace amidst the chaos of the world outside.
The quiet knock of a maid interrupted their peaceful moment in the parlor. She stepped in with a polite bow, her voice soft but clear. "My lord, my lady, dinner is ready."
Alaric glanced at Salviana, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Shall we?"
Salviana nodded, taking his extended hand. Together, they rose and made their way to the dining hall. The long table was set with an array of dishes, the warm glow of candlelight casting a golden hue over the room.
As they ate, Salviana broke the comfortable silence. "You mentioned starting a garden together," she reminded him, her voice tinged with excitement.
Alaric paused, as though the thought had only just returned to him. "Ah, yes. I'd nearly forgotten," he admitted, a sheepish smile spreading across his face. "Tomorrow we'll start it. It's the rainy season now—perfect for planting. Everything should bloom beautifully."
Her eyes lit up at his words. "I can't wait. It'll be nice to have something we created together."
Alaric nodded, pleased by her enthusiasm. But before they could delve further into garden plans, Salviana's tone grew more serious. "I heard some murmurs about Tackeros. Something about an impending attack?"
Alaric's expression darkened slightly, though his voice remained calm. "It's true," he confirmed, setting his fork down. "The council and I have been working on plans. We're going to offer a truce, but it's a delicate matter. I'll be meeting with them tomorrow to finalize our approach."
Salviana nodded thoughtfully. "While you're at the council meeting," she began, "I was thinking of visiting the queen to talk about embroidery. She's always so skilled with her designs, and I could learn a thing or two."
Alaric leaned back in his chair, studying her for a moment before shaking his head with a playful smirk. "You'll charm her, no doubt. Just don't let her rope you into her endless projects."
Salviana laughed, brushing off his teasing. They continued their meal, occasionally feeding each other bites, their laughter filling the hall. Alaric, despite not tasting much of the food—a lingering effect of his condition—found himself savoring the moment.
Being with Salviana, sharing quiet conversations and small gestures of affection, made everything else fade away. It wasn't the food or the setting that brought him joy, but her presence.
By the time the meal ended, the storm outside had softened to a gentle drizzle. Salviana leaned against Alaric as they rose from the table, their steps in sync as they left the dining hall, their plans for tomorrow already brightening the horizon.
Later that evening, Salviana and Alaric prepared for bed. The room was dimly lit, the warm glow of a single candle casting soft shadows across the walls. Salviana had picked out one of the dark books she'd found in the library earlier, intrigued by its ominous title and cryptic design. As they settled into the large, plush bed, Alaric reached for the book.
"You actually picked this one?" he teased, turning the worn cover over in his hands.
"I thought it might be interesting," Salviana replied with a small smile, tucking her legs under the covers. "But I also wanted to see if it was accurate."
Alaric arched a brow, smirking. "Accurate? When it comes to vampires? I doubt it."
He opened the book, his deep voice filling the room as he began reading aloud.
The first few passages described vampires as desperate creatures, cursed to roam the night in poverty, hiding from the world. Alaric paused, his expression incredulous.