"Enjoying yourself, my Fiery one?" he teased.
"Just being thorough," Salviana shot back, biting her lip to suppress a smile.
She adjusted his collar, smoothing the embroidery with careful hands. "There," she said with satisfaction, stepping back to admire him. "Now you’re perfect."
"Only because you’ve made so," Alaric replied, pulling her into his arms once more.
Salviana leaned into him, her fingers tracing the embroidery on his chest. "You should rest," she said softly. "And let take care of that headache."
He nodded, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Only if you stay with ," he said, his voice low and tender.
"Always," she promised.
Alaric retrieved the comb, brush, pins, and a small vial of fragrant oil, setting them on the table beside her. His movents were calm and deliberate, his sharp eyes scanning her hair as though planning his approach.
"Sit still, Wife," he murmured, his deep voice soothing. "Let handle this."
Salviana obeyed, a smile playing on her lips as she relaxed into the chair.
Alaric began by running his fingers gently through her strands, detangling them with surprising care.
He worked the oil into her hair next, rubbing it between his palms before smoothing it over her dark locks.
"This oil slls divine," she comnted, closing her eyes as his hands moved. "What is it?"
"Jasmine and cedarwood," he replied, his voice low as he combed through her hair. "I thought you’d like it."
"I love it," she murmured. "Did you know slls have anings, too? Like colors?"
He arched a brow. "Oh? Do tell."
"Well," she began, her tone animated, "colors can evoke feelings and emotions. Red, for instance, represents passion, energy, and danger."
"Fitting for you," he teased, carefully separating a section of her hair.
She chuckled. "And blue—it’s calming, like the ocean or the sky. It makes people feel serene."
"I’d say I prefer the fiery passion of red over the calm of blue," Alaric said with a smirk, twisting a small braid into her hair.
"Of course, you do," she replied playfully. "But green is balance and growth, like life itself. It’s hopeful, grounding."
"Green suits you as well, like your eyes when they look at with such hope for a better life" he remarked, securing the braid with a pin.
She smiled he was so attentive.
"And yellow," she continued, tilting her head slightly to let him work. "Yellow is happiness, optimism, and energy. It’s like a burst of sunshine."
"Not my favorite," he admitted, brushing out another section of her hair. "Too bright for my taste."
She laughed. "Well, what about black?"
"That’s easy," he said, smoothing her hair back. "Power, mystery, elegance. And if I may say so, it’s rather alluring when you wear it."
Her cheeks ward, and she let him continue without interruption, enjoying the quiet intimacy of the mont.
Alaric combed and styled with precision, carefully pinning her hair into place.
"Done," he announced, stepping back to admire his work.
Salviana turned toward the mirror, her eyes lighting up as she caught sight of her reflection. Her hair was perfectly arranged—sleek, with delicate braids framing her face and cascading down her back.
"Thank you, my dearest husband," she said, her voice soft with affection. "I look fiery."
Alaric chuckled, his deep laugh rumbling in his chest. "That you do," he said, crossing his arms and leaning against the table to admire her.
She reached out, taking his hand. "You’ve outdone yourself," she said, squeezing his fingers.
He smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. "Your beauty makes my work look better than it is."
She laughed, swatting his arm lightly. "You’re proud of yourself, admit it."
"Maybe," he said with a grin. "But I’m prouder to be your husband."
Her heart swelled, and she stood, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "You’re perfect, Alaric."
"No," he murmured, pulling her close. "But you make better."
Alaric moved to the small knee pillow on the floor, settling himself in front of the couch. Salviana took her seat behind him, his head finding its place on her soft thighs.
She stroked his black locks, marveling at how silky and untad they felt beneath her fingertips.
Dropping a kiss on his forehead, she murmured, "Relax," before her hands began their slow, soothing motion, massaging his scalp.
Alaric let out a quiet sigh, his body sinking further into her care.
"Your hair is so soft," she mused, fingers threading gently through his locks.
"It’s one of my better qualities," he replied with a faint smirk, his eyes closed.
She chuckled, her thumbs pressing into his temples. "So, tell about your powers. I noticed earlier that you could make the candles burn brighter."
Alaric stilled for a mont before sighing heavily. "I fear I might be more of a demon than the kingdom likes to claim."
"That’s ridiculous," she said firmly, though curiosity tinged her voice. "But it is unusual. Vampires don’t typically move things with their minds or manipulate fire... at least, not in the books I’ve read."
"You’ve been watching closely," Alaric noted, his lips quirking.
"No," Salviana protested, though a playful smile betrayed her. "You weren’t exactly hiding it. You opened the door for the maids earlier today... wait—" Her eyes widened as a mory hit her. "Did you shut the bathroom door that first night I was here?"
Alaric winced, his lips twitching with amusent. "Salviana, at this rate, you’re going to make my headache worse."
Realizing she had been gripping his hair a little too tightly, she gasped, "Oh heavens, I’m sorry!" Her fingers imdiately untangled, resuming their gentler rhythm.
"Kiss it away," he murmured, his voice low and teasing.
She leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his temple, whispering, "There."
But when Alaric tilted his head up, his smoldering gaze locked with hers. He tapped his index finger on his lips with mock seriousness.
Salviana blushed, glancing nervously around the room as though soone might be watching.
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