Chapter 484: A thoughtful husband
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"Ohhh!" she gasped, dizzy from the rush. "Alaric!"
He only grinned, fangs flashing faintly in the candlelight, "That is such a breathtaking sensation,"
"Oh?" Alaric asked with a smile in his voice.
"Yes, can I feel it again?"
"Yes, my lady," and then—before she could even catch her breath—he darted back down. Her squeal turned to a helpless giggle, her fingers clutching the back of his shirt as the castle blurred around them.
Up again, the walls a streak of shadow and flame.
Down again, her laughter echoing off the stone.
Up again, faster, smoother, until her hair was flying around her face and she could do nothing but gasp and laugh and cling to him.
"Stop—stop!" she cried through her giggles, though the sparkle in her eyes betrayed her.
"Addictive, isn’t it?" he teased, his lips brushing her ear as they stilled halfway up the stairs. His voice was warm velvet, his body steady despite the wild speed he’d just unleashed.
Breathless, cheeks flushed, she whispered, "So addictive. Do it again."
His smile softened, boyish and dangerous all at once. He leaned down, kissed her mouth—slow, lingering, tasting her laughter—and when he pulled back, his eyes glowed faintly silver in the candlelight.
"I’ll take you up and down these stairs in vampiric speed for as long as you want," he promised against her lips.
She melted into him, her giggles dissolving into a happy sigh. And this time, instead of blurring again, he carried her steady, unhurried, into their chamber. He lowered her to the bed, setting her down like something sacred, and slipped in beside her, wrapping her in both his arms and his vow.
Salviana woke before the sun had fully warmed the sky. The sheets beside her were already cool, the indentation of Alaric’s body long gone. For a moment, she reached across the empty space, her palm brushing over the silence, her heart tightening with the strange, sharp longing of waking without him.
She rose quietly, slipping into a light robe, and padded downstairs. The scent of wax and paint still lingered in the chamber where she had left her brushes last night. The half-finished canvas waited for her, the dark castle stretching up in jagged lines against a crimson sky. Salviana set her jaw, lit the candles, and began painting again.
Each stroke deepened the shadows, each layer of color bringing that haunting fortress closer to life. She found herself wondering when—if—she would stand before it in person. Would it be as abandoned as it appeared? Or alive with secrets her world wasn’t meant to know?
The door creaked softly. Thalia and Sarah entered, curtsying. Emma followed with a tray in her hands.
"My lady," Thalia said gently, "Prince Alaric asked us to inform you—he will not be joining you for breakfast today."
Salviana’s brush stilled midair. A tiny splatter of paint darkened the canvas like blood.
"Oh," she murmured, too softly, setting the brush down.
Emma stepped forward, placing the tray neatly on the table. "He said you are not to worry. He will return before noon."
Salviana nodded and wiped her paint-stained hands in a cloth. The ache in her chest deepened as she washed her fingers clean at the basin, staring at the swirl of dark pigment disappearing into water. She let out a breath, straightened her shoulders, and moved to the breakfast table.
The food was laid beautifully—fresh bread, fruit, a steaming pot of tea—but the chair opposite hers remained painfully empty. She sat alone, lifting her fork and nibbling at the fruit.
She tried. She really did. But with each bite she found herself slowing, staring at the chair as though he might appear at any moment, teasing her, stealing from her plate, urging her to eat more with that irresistible blend of sternness and tenderness. Without him, her appetite faltered.
He doesn’t eat with me, yet somehow when he’s there, I eat more... perhaps because he makes me feel less alone, she thought, her chest tightening.
"My lady," Emma’s voice broke through her drifting thoughts. She was watching carefully, the way she always did. "Are you done?"
Salviana glanced at her half-finished plate and sighed. "Yes, I am."
She rose gracefully, though a shadow of longing lingered in her gaze.
"Very well," Sarah said quickly, exchanging a glance with Thalia. "Then let us begin the preparations. The princesses and ladies are already gathering. You must be at your best today, my lady."
Salviana nodded faintly. "Yes. The tea party." She smoothed her robe over her wrist and forced a small smile. "Come then. I want to look my best."
The three maids curtsied together, relief softening their faces. They stepped closer, guiding her upstairs where her gowns and cosmetics awaited.
As Salviana placed her foot on the first stair, a sudden thought struck her like cold water.
"Oh no..." She froze, clutching the banister, her eyes wide.
Emma nearly bumped into her. "My lady? What’s wrong?"
"The fireflies," Salviana breathed, guilt knotting in her chest. She pressed a hand to her lips. "Alaric and I left them in the jar by the window. I forgot them. What if—they could have died, trapped because of me—"
Her words tumbled out in a rush, heavy with panic.
Sarah hurried forward, her voice calm, reassuring. "No, no, my lady. When we came in this morning to clean the chamber, the glass was empty."
"Empty?" Salviana blinked.
Thalia smiled softly, folding her hands. "It seems His Highness had already taken care of them. Perhaps he released them last night after you fell asleep. We saw no jar, only the window open."
A long breath escaped Salviana’s chest. Relief swept over her, loosening her shoulders. A warm smile tugged at her lips. "Of course he did. Alaric would never let them suffer."
Her heart softened, almost aching at the thought. He had remembered when she had forgotten. He always thought of the little things, the fragile things, even when he seemed so unshakably powerful.
She turned back to her maids with gratitude shining in her eyes. "Thank you for telling me. I’d never have forgiven myself otherwise."
"Now, my lady," Emma said gently, gesturing upward, "let us go prepare you. The bath is already drawn."