Lucius's usually unfeeling face was uncharacteristically relaxed, a hint of contentment lingering in his expression.
"Hello sir?" Sarah asked, breaking the silence.
Lucius nodded, his lips twitching into what might have been an attempt at a smile. "Who are you?"
"Manni, the coachman brought me here, the princess ordered I come here to help Miss Jean repair the mansion,"
"Oh? Come inside," he invited, the sun was rising higher and he couldn't stay out any longer.
The maids are no longer surprised by Lucius because they've seen him a few times after Alaric introduced him as Jean's personal bodyguard.
"Where is miss Jean?" Sarah asked.
He nodded, "She's already rearranging the library."
Sarah laughed lightly. "That sounds like her."
As Sarah entered the mansion, Lucius lingered in the living room, his thoughts on Jean's tireless dedication.
For the first time in years, he found himself looking forward to the future—not because of the house, but because of her unwavering belief in it.
He needed his rest of memories, they needed to get back to their goal with Alaric.
To find their people.
~~{───────
~~~~~~~~~~}~~~
Salviana arrived at Alaric's office in the royal carriage, her mind replaying the scene from the meeting hall like a broken record.
The judgmental stares, the accusations, the venomous whispers—it had hurt. But even through the lingering sting of humiliation, she forced herself to stand tall.
The cool air brushed against her face as she stepped down from the carriage, and for a fleeting moment, she felt lighter, as if shedding the weight of their disapproving gazes.
Inside, the grand corridor leading to Alaric's office was alive with activity. Guards stood at attention, their stoic expressions softening slightly at the sight of her. Salviana offered them a polite nod before pushing open the heavy oak door.
The atmosphere within was thick with strategy and tension.
Alaric sat at his desk, his broad shoulders radiating authority as he leaned forward, speaking with Chief Commander Walls and Head Councilman Aldred.
Maps and parchments covered the desk, a clear testament to the intensity of their discussions.
As the door creaked open, all eyes turned toward her.
Alaric's dark orbs locked onto hers immediately, and his expression softened, a stark contrast to the hard edge he wore moments before. "Salviana," he said, his voice low but warm, a subtle invitation wrapped in her name.
"Your Highness," she greeted with a graceful curtsy, her tone poised yet tinged with weariness.
Alaric stood, motioning toward the chair beside him. "Come, sit with me."
Her heart swelled at the gesture, but she shook her head gently. "Thank you, but no. I didn't mean to interrupt," she said, her gaze flicking briefly to the men seated before bowing slightly. "Gentlemen."
Walls and Aldred nodded in return, though Walls offered a friendly smile. "Princess Salviana," he said, his gruff voice carrying respect.
She turned to leave, her movements deliberate, but not before Alaric's sharp eyes caught the faint sadness lingering in hers.
His jaw tightened, and his hands flexed against the desk. He wanted to stop her, to say something, but the room and its obligations held him back.
The door closed softly behind her, and the tension in Alaric's shoulders became visible to the men before him.
His gaze lingered on the door, and for a moment, he seemed elsewhere.
Walls cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Your Highness, perhaps we should finalize the briefing."
"Yes," Alaric said curtly, snapping back to focus, though his mind clearly remained divided.
Aldred chuckled knowingly, leaning back in his chair. "Ah, the look of a man in love. A rare sight, indeed."
Walls smirked, his gruff voice laced with amusement. "Careful, Aldred. You're talking about the prince and his wife. But… I'll admit, there's truth to your observation. Love makes a man eager for his meetings to end."
Alaric shot them a warning glare, though his lips twitched as if fighting a smile. "Finalize the report," he ordered, though the sharpness in his voice was dulled by his evident distraction.
The men exchanged amused glances but complied, quickly summarizing the remaining points.
Alaric's patience wore thinner by the second, his dark eyes flicking to the door as if willing it to open and bring her back to him.
When the briefing finally concluded, Aldred rose, giving Alaric a sly grin. "Your Highness, a word of advice—stay in love. It softens even the harshest of men."
Walls chuckled as he gathered his parchments. "And find time for her, even amidst chaos. That's what keeps the fire burning."
Alaric didn't respond, but the subtle shift in his expression—half smirk, half thoughtful—was enough for them to take their leave.
As soon as the door shut behind them, Alaric exhaled deeply, running a hand through his raven-black hair.
His mind was already on her, replaying the sadness in her gaze, the subtle heaviness in her posture. He strode to the window, gazing out at the gardens, where he hoped to find her.
Whatever weighed on her, he would uncover it. And he would make it right.
"My love!" Alaric's deep voice echoed down the corridor, tinged with warmth and urgency.
Salviana paused mid-step, her fingers lightly grazing the stone wall as she turned to find him striding toward her.
His black hair shimmered under the sunlight streaming through the high windows, and his dark eyes sparkled with amusement.
Her lips curved into a small smile. "Hello, my fire prince," she said before he reached her, the title slipping from her with an air of mischief.
That stopped him for a moment, and his lips quirked up into a grin. "That," he said, his voice dropping to a low rumble, "is definitely going to my head."
When he finally closed the distance, his large hands cupped her face with the gentleness of a man who knew his strength, and he pressed a firm kiss to her forehead.
Salviana chuckled, her hands instinctively finding his arms. "The bigger the head, the better," she teased, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze.