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Afternoon.
Salviana’s Chambers, Wyfkeep Castle.
Wyfellon, Wyfn-Garde.
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As Salviana rushed back to her chambers, another female voice called out, stopping her in her tracks.
"Princess Salviana!"
Turning, she smiled politely, though she didn’t recognize the woman, despite how oddly familiar she seed. "Good afternoon, Princess... Your Grace."
The woman with striking grey eyes rolled them playfully. "Please, that’s too formal. Call Abigail," she said with a warm, inviting smile.
’Oh, Abigail, the athlete,’ Salviana mused, rembering the description from Sarah, her own smile returned more naturally.
"Thank you, then you may call Salviana," she responded, though the earlier turmoil from her encounter still lingered beneath her calm facade.
"I intend to," Abigail replied, her smile slightly awkward, as if she wasn’t accustod to it and didn’t quite know how to make it seem natural.
Salviana smiled, she was the first princess to be like that, they all knew how to place a perfect smile on their faces.
"I was actually looking for you," Abigail continued as they began walking.
"Oh? Co along then, I was just going for a stroll," Salviana said, her tone light, though she noticed Abigail’s skepticism. She couldn’t exactly tell her she was just coming back from Irene’s place where she was slapped.
"A walk, of course," Abigail murmured, clearly unconvinced.
As they strolled toward the third prince’s chambers, Abigail suddenly spoke again, her voice softer, more serious. "She’ll never believe he didn’t do it."
Salviana instantly knew Princess Abigail had seen what transpired between her and Irene, so she didn’t have to pretend to be fine anymore.
She sighed, the weight of the situation pressing on her. "He wasn’t even around yesterday. He couldn’t have done it." she explained, exhausted by the royals feasibility.
"I’m relieved you know that," Abigail admitted solemnly. "Alaric has always been misunderstood."
Salviana gave her a wry smile. "And how could I possibly control that man?" she asked dramatically, causing Abigail to snort and burst into laughter. Soon, both won were laughing together, the tension between them easing.
"How’s your burn?" Abigail asked after their laughter subsided. "I brought so paste. Sorry I couldn’t co earlier." she was talking about the hot water that had poured her last night and Salviana felt nice to be asked after like that.
Soone who cared, finally.
"You didn’t have to trouble yourself, but thank you so much," Salviana said, grateful.
"I could put it on for you," Abigail offered, surprising Salviana with her kindness.
But, Salviana shook her head, taking the soothing paste from the princess. "No, no need to worry. I’ll apply it myself," she replied, rembering Alaric’s warning that morning to avoid revealing her divinity to the royals—or anyone else.
As they reached the chambers, the door opened, and Alaric stepped out. His eyes narrowed slightly in surprise as he spotted his sister.
"Abigail," he greeted, his tone neutral.
She smiled sheepishly. "Hello," she replied, her awkwardness palpable.
"I’d like to take my wife sowhere," Alaric said, his words surprising Salviana. They had a guest, after all.
’Did he want her to leave already? They hadn’t even invited her in’
Abigail blinked, clearly not expecting the sudden dismissal. "Of course. I’ll take my leave then," she said, her gaze flicking between Alaric and Salviana.
"Thank you again, Abigail. I’ll co over for tea soon," Salviana offered kindly.
"Of course," Abigail replied, though her discomfort was obvious.
As Abigail walked away, Salviana watched her go, but Alaric’s attention was fixed on his wife. His expression darkened when he noticed the faint mark of fingers across her face.
’She had been slapped!’ His eyes blazed with fury.
"Who did this?" he growled, his voice low but dangerous.
Salviana flinched, startled that he had noticed. "Alaric—"
He cut her off, cupping her face gently in his large hands. "Fiery, who did this to you? Who dared lay a finger on you?"
"I went there," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, she refused to et his eyes.
His growl deepened. "Where? Who was it?"
"I can’t tell you who, but they weren’t exactly thrilled by my presence," she said, shaking her head slightly, though he held her firmly, his gaze locked onto hers.
"Was it Abigail?" he asked, his voice rough with suspicion.
Taken aback, Salviana pulled away slightly. "No, of course not. She brought dicine."
Alaric’s anger simred just below the surface, his protective instincts warring with the urge to tear apart whoever had hurt his wife. But seeing the fear in her eyes, he forced himself to stay calm. "You should be wary of her," he warned, his tone serious.
"But she’s so nice," Salviana countered. "She brought a paste for the burn and possible scar."
"Yeah, I wonder why," Alaric muttered, his tone laced with sarcasm and suspicion.
Salviana scrunched her nose, giving him a look. "Be optimistic. I think she likes ."
"Exactly," he grumbled, "I don’t want her to like you."
"They’re almost all horrible to , but she isn’t. I want to be liked," Salviana said with a slight pout, following Alaric as he suddenly began walking toward another part of their chambers.
He didn’t want her to be liked by them, worse desired by Abigail, His lips pressed together before he took her hand.
Salviana was taken aback when Alaric suddenly took her hand. His grip was firm yet gentle, and it caught her off guard. She looked down at their entwined fingers, her heart skipping a beat. A soft smile began to form on her lips, and she quickly tried to suppress it, feeling an unfamiliar warmth rising within her.
Her mind replayed the mont he had cupped her face monts ago, his touch so tender despite the intense anger she had felt brewing inside him. The mory of his large hands holding her so delicately sent a shiver down her spine, and she couldn’t help but feel a little silly and shy. Her cheeks reddened, her emotions betraying her as she bit her lip to keep from grinning too much.
She felt it now, the feeling of butterflies in her belly, she wanted to hide.
Alaric noticed the shift in her deanour. He felt the quickened pace of her heartbeat, and without even looking at her, he could sense the flustered excitent emanating from her. His brows furrowed slightly, curious but also amused.
"Are you okay?" he asked in a low, velvety voice, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.
Salviana, caught off guard, nodded quickly. "Yes," she whispered, though her voice wavered slightly with nervousness.
She tightened her hold on his finger without even realizing it, as if she didn’t want to let go. Alaric felt her grip and resisted the urge to smile, but the corners of his lips twitched. He liked the effect he had on her, even though he wouldn’t admit it aloud.
They continued to walk in comfortable silence, her heart racing and his own calm, he was leading her sowhere unknown yet sohow intimate.
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