"What are you looking for, my lord?" Askd
Alaric smirked. "Something to make him look less like he crawled out of a grave."
Lucius glared at him. "Funny."
After much deliberation, they settled on a dark coat with silver embroidery, a crisp white shirt, and tailored trousers.
As Lucius inspected himself in a small mirror, Alaric crossed his arms, a smug grin on his face.
"You clean up well," he teased. "Almost like a proper noble. Too bad you're probably broke."
Lucius turned sharply, his dark red eyes narrowing. "If I regain my memories, I'll find my gold, and I'll repay you tenfold."
Alaric chuckled. "I'll believe it when I see it. Until then, consider this a gift."
Lucius rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress a faint smirk. "Don't get used to it."
As they walked back through the market, Lucius paused at a stall selling scented oils. He picked up a small vial, sniffing it thoughtfully. "This one," he said, handing a few coins to the merchant.
"What's that for?" Alaric asked.
Lucius shrugged. "For my pumpkin. Figured it wouldn't hurt to smell… less like a corpse."
Alaric laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. "You're learning, Lucius. Slowly, but you're learning."
The two walked into the night, their banter echoing through the quiet streets as they made their way back home.
When Alaric and Lucius reached the castle, the first rays of dawn were stretching across the sky, painting it in soft hues of orange and pink.
The journey had been long, but the sight of the towering gates brought a sense of relief. Inside, the air was still, as if the castle itself was holding its breath after the events of the night.
Emma approached swiftly, bowing low. "Your Grace, the ladies have returned safely. Lady Salviana is currently in Lady Jean's quarters."
Alaric nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Good. Make sure Lady Jean is tended to."
The servant scurried off, and Alaric turned to Lucius. "Get some rest. You've had enough excitement for one night."
Lucius gave a lazy smirk, his dark red eyes gleaming faintly in the dim light. "Don't tell me what to do, "youngster. But I'll consider it."
As Alaric moved to go pick his wife Lucius followed closely, "Where are you going?"
Lucius raised a brow, daring Alaric, "To my pumpkin"
"Of course," Alaric forgot their closeness for a second.
Ever since he made Alaric bring her here Alaric had realized the other place Lucius left him for was Jean's before she came to the castle.
"I have no other place but hers" Lucius whispered.
Alaric ignored him, his thoughts already drifting to Salviana. He made his way to Jean's quarters, his steps quick but quiet.
Inside, they found Salviana sitting by Jean's bedside, her fingers brushing over the younger woman's hand as she murmured something soft and comforting.
"Salviana," he said gently, his voice low.
She looked up, her eyes tired but filled with relief at the sight of him. Without a word, she rose and walked into his open arms. He held her tightly, feeling the tension in her body slowly ebb away.
"She's stable now," Salviana whispered. "The healers said she just needs rest."
Alaric kissed the top of her head. "And so do you, my fiery one. Come, let's go."
With a final glance at Jean, Salviana allowed Alaric to guide her out of the room. They walked in silence through the quiet halls, their steps echoing faintly against the stone walls.
When they reached their chambers, Alaric closed the door behind them and turned to her, his dark eyes softening as he took in her exhausted but beautiful face.
"Tonight was… a lot," Salviana admitted, her voice trembling slightly. "I didn't know if we'd make it back."
"But we did," Alaric said, cupping her face in his hands. "You're here, safe, and that's all that matters."
She leaned into his touch, her eyes closing as a tear slipped down her cheek. "I was so scared, Alaric."
"I know," he murmured, pulling her closer. "I was too. But we survived. Together."
Their lips met in a soft, lingering kiss, a silent reassurance that they were both still standing. The weight of the night slowly melted away as they held each other, their breaths mingling in the stillness of the room.
Alaric led her to the bed, where they lay side by side, their bodies tangled together as if afraid to let go.
His fingers traced gentle patterns on her arm, and her hand rested over his heart, feeling the steady rhythm beneath her palm.
"Thank you for staying strong," he whispered, his lips brushing against her temple.
She smiled faintly, her eyes heavy with sleep. "I couldn't have done it without you."
As the morning light began to filter through the curtains, they finally allowed themselves to drift off, their exhaustion catching up to them.
The castle outside stirred to life, but within the confines of their chamber, all was quiet and peaceful.
For now, they had each other, and that was enough.
Meanwhile, Lucius sat silently in a high-backed chair, his dark red eyes fixed unwaveringly on Jean's still form. Her bed was positioned in the middle of the room, its linens clean and crisp, but her pallor unnerved him.
The moonlight streaming through the window highlighted her delicate features, making her appear ethereal, like a fragile porcelain doll teetering on the edge of breaking.
He leaned forward, his forearms resting on his knees, his hands clasped tightly together as if holding himself back from reaching out to her.
Lucius couldn't believe he was awake, free from the darkness of the grave, while she was the one trapped now—silent, motionless. It was a cruel twist of fate. He craved her voice, the sound of it like a melody that had haunted his dreams for years.
He wanted to feel her touch, to have her hand in his and know that she was alive and real.