"So," Alaric began as they paused near a stall selling delicate glass ornants. "What exactly are we getting the king? You’ve been suspiciously vague about this."
Salviana turned to him, a sly smile on her lips. "I don’t know yet," she admitted with a small shrug. "I don’t exactly know the king, do I?"
Alaric smirked. "You could’ve fooled . You’re married to his nephew; surely you’ve picked up sothing?"
She tilted her head thoughtfully, her green eyes gleaming mischievously. "Alright, since you’re so wise, why don’t you tell ? What does the king like?"
"Won," Alaric answered bluntly, his dark eyes glinting with amusent.
Salviana let out a dramatic groan, rolling her eyes. "Of course. What else would you say?"
"It’s true," he replied, grinning. "He’s a man of... simple pleasures."
"Well, since neither of us knows for certain, we’ll just walk around and see what speaks to us," she declared, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward the next row of shops.
As they walked, Salviana’s attention shifted.
Her gaze fell on a collection of elegant rugs displayed outside a shop, and she paused. "Oh, these are lovely," she said, running her fingers over a rich burgundy rug embroidered with gold threads.
"For the king?" Alaric asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow.
"No," she said with a playful laugh. "For Lucius’s mansion. Jean is helping him clean it, and the place could use so life."
Alaric groaned lightly, watching as she gestured for the rchant to roll up the rug. "You an to tell we’re here to shop for Lucius?"
"Not entirely," she teased, her smile growing. "But it doesn’t hurt to spend a little, does it? You have money to spare."
"Lucius will pay us back when he can," Alaric said firmly, crossing his arms.
"Sure, sure," Salviana replied breezily, clearly not believing him.
The rchant, a stout man with a friendly deanor, handed the rug to one of the guards. "A fine choice, my lady. Perhaps so matching curtains to go with it?"
Salviana’s eyes lit up. "Oh, absolutely. Let’s see them."
Alaric leaned closer, lowering his voice. "You’re going to drain dry, aren’t you?"
She smirked, leaning into him. "If I don’t, who will?"
The rchant returned with a selection of curtains, and after so deliberation—and a bit of haggling—Salviana chose a pair in deep forest green.
The guards took them, adding to their growing pile of purchases.
They moved on, stopping at a shop that specialized in polished candleholders.
Salviana imdiately gravitated toward a set of ornate brass holders, inspecting their intricate designs.
"Do you like these?" she asked, holding one up to Alaric.
"They’re fine," he said, though his tone was indifferent.
"Just fine?" she teased, placing a hand on her hip.
"I’m not exactly an expert in candleholders," he replied dryly.
A voice interrupted them. "Ah, my lord, my lady," the shopkeeper said, stepping forward with an ingratiating smile. "You have excellent taste. These are from the finest craftsman in Wyffellon, I assure you."
Salviana gave the man a warm smile. "Are they? Tell more."
The shopkeeper launched into an enthusiastic explanation about the craftsmanship and history of the pieces, but Alaric wasn’t listening. His attention had wandered to Salviana’s face, the way her expression shifted as she listened intently to the rchant.
"You’re not listening, are you?" she said suddenly, catching him off guard.
"I don’t need to," he said smoothly. "I know you’ll pick the best one."
Her laughter was soft, like a lody. "Flatterer."
By the ti they left the shop, they had added candleholders, rags, and buckets to their growing collection.
"I feel like this was your plan all along," Alaric said as they continued down the street.
"What plan?" Salviana asked innocently, though her grin betrayed her.
"To turn this trip into a shopping spree for Lucius’s mansion."
She laughed, lightly bumping his shoulder with hers. "Well, if it makes you feel better, I promise we’ll find sothing for the king too."
"You’re impossible," he muttered, though there was no real annoyance in his voice.
The day wore on, the sun casting a warm glow over the bustling marketplace.
Alaric and Salviana wandered through the stalls, their banter light and easy.
Despite his initial grumbling, Alaric found himself enjoying the outing more than he expected.
There was sothing about being here with her, surrounded by the lively energy of the market, that made him feel... at peace.
’Amazing,’ rang in Salviana’s head repeatedly as she watched everywhere.
The bustling market buzzed with the energy of rchants hawking their wares and buyers bartering for the best deals.
The sun hung high in the sky, casting warm, golden light on the cobbled streets.
Salviana and Alaric had just passed a jewelry stall when a sudden commotion caught their attention.
A man, red-faced and frantic, was pushing a cart with a massive boulder loaded onto it.
His pace was too fast for the uneven road, and as he tried to maneuver around a crowd, his foot caught on a small stone.
He stumbled forward, losing his grip, and the cart lurched wildly in Salviana’s direction.
"Look out!" soone in the crowd yelled.
Before Salviana could react, Alaric’s strong arm wrapped around her waist and yanked her out of harm’s way.
The boulder-laden cart toppled to one side as the man fell to the ground, narrowly missing her.
Despite being unscathed, Salviana let out a sharp scream that startled Alaric more than the near miss.
"Salviana!" he said urgently, his voice tinged with worry. "Are you hurt?"
She clutched her arm, wincing slightly but quickly shook her head. "I’m fine, Alaric. It’s nothing."
The man who had been pushing the cart scrambled to his knees, his face pale and his hands trembling. "My deepest apologies, my lady! I didn’t an any harm. The cart slipped—"
"It’s fine," Salviana interrupted, her tone steady and forgiving. "You didn’t an to. You may go."
The man stamred a few more apologies, bowing repeatedly before hastily retreating with his cart.
Reviews
All reviews (0)