"The bigger the head, the better,"
His brow arched as a playful smirk tugged at his lips. "The better for what?" he asked, his voice laced with laughter as his eyes narrowed with mock suspicion.
Her laughter bubbled out like a stream, uncontainable and infectious. "I don't know! I just wanted to say that," she admitted between giggles, her cheeks flushed.
Alaric couldn't hold back anymore, his laughter joining hers, rich and hearty.
The sound echoed down the stone halls, and as the few nearby servants and courtiers glanced their way, soft smiles spread across their faces.
They were a vision of vibrance and love, their shared joy lighting up the otherwise serious corridors of the castle.
A lively couple whose laughter felt like a balm to all who witnessed them, as though even the stones of Wyfkeep Castle softened in their presence.
As the moment passed, Alaric leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper only she could hear. "You'll be the death of me, Salviana. But what a way to go."
She smirked, looping her arm through his. "Then I'll make sure you live a long life, my fire prince. Who else would I tease?"
His dark eyes softened, and he pulled her closer as they strolled down the corridor.
Whatever the world threw at them, moments like these reminded them of the solace they found in each other.
"And if we're being honest," Alaric began, his tone mockingly haughty as they walked back toward his office, "you only won the teasing game this time. I'm actually the king of teasing."
Salviana rolled her eyes, though a laugh bubbled out. "King tease? That's the best you've got? You must be losing your touch."
"Hardly," he retorted, a mischievous glint in his dark eyes.
Just as they neared the office door, she abruptly stopped, pulling him gently to a halt beside his office in the corridor. "Wait."
Alaric turned, brows furrowed in mild curiosity. "What is it?"
"You didn't ask why I stopped by," she said, his voice softer now.
He tilted her head slightly, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "I didn't think I needed to. You don't need a reason to see me, Salviana."
His words struck her, and a rare flicker of vulnerability crossed her features. "Oh, Alaric," she murmured, her voice laden with affection as she opened her arms.
He stepped into her embrace without hesitation, wrapping his strong arms around her and tucking her close.
Resting his chin atop her head, he let out a contented sigh, running his nose along the soft waves of her hair.
"Did you just fall in love with me again?" Alaric teased, his voice low and warm.
Her reply was muffled against his chest. "I told you, I don't love you."
He pulled back slightly, tilting her chin up with a gentle hand so their eyes met. "And I'm telling you now," he said with quiet confidence, "that I know better."
Her green eyes widened, the emotion swimming within them betraying her words.
She took a steadying breath, regaining her composure, and smiled softly. "Alright, well, I do have a reason for coming to see you," she admitted.
His expression brightened, and he leaned in to press a quick kiss to her lips. "What is it, my lady?"
She stepped back slightly, clasping her hands in front of her. "It's the king's 50th birthday in a few days," she said, watching his face carefully.
Alaric raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking up in mild amusement. "Ah, so the old man's finally aging, is he?"
"Alaric!" Salviana scolded, though she couldn't help the smile tugging at her lips. "We need to get him a gift. Something meaningful."
His brow furrowed in thought. "I've never done that before."
She arched an elegant brow. "Have you ever had a wife before?"
"No," he said, almost absentmindedly, as if realizing it for the first time.
"But if you did," she continued, stepping closer, "wouldn't you want to make her feel special?"
Alaric's dark eyes softened, his expression growing serious. "This is my first time doing this," he said, his voice steady and sure. "And I intend to do it right."
She smiled at his sincerity, taking his hand in hers. "Then trust your lovely wife. Take me to Wyfellon, and we'll find the perfect gift together."
Alaric's lips curled into a slow, boyish grin. "As my lady desires," he said smoothly, before sweeping her off her feet in one swift motion.
Salviana gasped, clutching his shoulders as he carried her down the corridor. "Alaric!" she squealed, her laughter echoing off the stone walls.
"You asked for this," he teased, his grin wide and unrepentant as they headed toward the stables.
And for a moment, their shared joy was all that mattered, leaving the weight of their world behind as they embraced the simplicity of being together.
The carriage creaked lightly as it rolled through the cobbled streets of Wyffellon, the rhythmic clattering of hooves filling the air.
Inside, Alaric leaned back against the plush velvet seat, his dark eyes fixed on Salviana, who was perched elegantly but clearly brimming with defiance.
"I still don't see why we couldn't have ridden on horseback," she said, her arms crossed. "It would have been much more exciting than sitting in here like nobles trapped in a box."
Alaric raised a brow, his lips twitching in amusement. "Exciting, yes. Practical, no. Do you realize the unpredictability of the weather? One moment the sun could be blazing down, and the next, we're drenched in rain. Not to mention the uncomfortable ride, the dirt, the gawkers—"
"Gawkers?" she interrupted, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "Are you afraid someone might swoon at the sight of the handsome third prince?"
He chuckled, leaning forward slightly. "Hardly. I'm more concerned about you being uncomfortable after an hour in the saddle. And let's not forget—what happens when we buy something? Are we supposed to balance it on horseback while riding back? I'd rather not have you juggling produce and silk in the middle of the street."