Throughout the confrontation, the lady-in-waiting, who had accompanied the maids, stood awkwardly at the back, trying to make herself as invisible as possible.
She avoided all eye contact, her gaze fixed on the floor, her body rigid as she desperately hoped not to be drawn into the argunt.
Alaric’s eyes finally settled back on Mathilde, his words cutting through the tension like a blade. "My wife’s well-being is my concern. If she requires anything, she will let you know. Until then, you will wait. And you will not harass her at the door again."
Mathilde’s lips thinned, and though her pride demanded she push further, the weight of Alaric’s presence was too much. She nodded curtly, her posture stiff with barely concealed frustration. "Yes, Your Grace," she muttered, her voice bitter as she bowed her head slightly.
His words were slow, deliberate, each syllable laced with warning. "She is my wife and that should be reason enough for you to wait until summoned. You have no business here."
Mathilde visibly swallowed, her hands clenching into fists at her sides as she tried to maintain control over the situation. "Yes, Your Grace," she muttered again, her voice bitter as she inclined her head slightly, her pride barely holding her together.
Without another word, she straightened her posture, but in her heart, she knew she would never willingly co to these chambers again—no matter how many maids ca to report about the seventh princess. She turned on her heel and left, her frustration seething just beneath the surface, yet she dared not defy Alaric any further.
Alaric’s gaze now settled on the lady-in-waiting who stood awkwardly at the back, trying her best to beco invisible. His eyes narrowed, and his voice dropped to a dangerously soft murmur. "Who are you?"
The woman trembled slightly, her throat constricting as she cleared it nervously. "I am Lady Margaretha Saxe, Your Grace. I serve as Princess Salviana’s lady-in-waiting."
Alaric arched a single brow, an elegant yet intimidating gesture that sent shivers through the air. "Who?"
Margaretha stamred, trying to regain her footing. "L-Lady Margaretha, Your Grace—"
Alaric cut her off with an abrupt wave of his hand, his interest waning. He glanced back briefly at Salviana, his arm subtly tightening around her waist. "No, who is this?" His question dripped with sarcasm, his tone condescending.
Margaretha’s face paled even more, hollowing under the weight of his attention. "Your wife, Your Grace. Princess Salviana," she replied shakily.
Alaric’s lips twisted into a cold smirk. "So you do know she’s a princess."
"Of course, Your Grace. The seventh princess," Margaretha replied, sounding almost offended by the implication that she did not know her station.
Alaric’s tone dripped with icy sarcasm. "Why, then, aren’t you a princess?"
Margaretha blinked, stunned by the sudden and unexpected question. "I-I don’t understand, Your Grace."
Alaric leaned forward slightly, his voice darkening. "Why aren’t you a princess, Margaretha?"
"I am undeserving," she stamred, her voice breaking under the pressure of his piercing gaze. Her chin quivered as the ntal and emotional strain of the mont overwheld her. "I do not have the right, Your Grace."
Alaric’s expression softened into a cruel mockery of understanding. "Good." His hand drifted to Salviana’s back, absentmindedly rubbing in slow, soothing circles. The contrast between his cold command and the tender touch on Salviana’s back was unsettling yet sohow comforting for her. "And who appointed you here?"
"The fifth princess... along with the others," Margaretha mumbled, her voice barely audible now.
Alaric’s smirk deepened. "They picked you for my wife?"
The way he spat out the word ’you’ made it sound like a curse, like she was the most unworthy person to exist in his presence. Margaretha’s lips trembled as she opened her mouth to respond, but Alaric’s disdainful gaze stopped her.
"You will no longer serve here. And if I were you, which is impossible, because I’m not condescending, stupid, or gaudy..." His voice trailed off, dark and foreboding. Salviana, who had been quiet all this while, blinked in surprise, lifting her head slightly to look at him. Alaric caught her movent out of the corner of his eye, and he felt the slight tremble in her body, sensing her shock and pleasure that they both thought the sa of Margaretha.
Margaretha stood frozen, her entire fra trembling with the sha of his words. Alaric continued as if her reaction mattered little. "But if you show yourself in these chambers again, you’ll earn sothing you’ve never had."
Margaretha’s brow furrowed in confusion, unsure of what exactly he was threatening her with. Though he’d used the word ’earn,’ it was clear from the chilling tone of his voice that it wasn’t a reward. She realized with the type of questions he’d asked her, he’d overheard her saying Salviana didn’t deserve to be a princess, she shuddered at how worse this could have gone. "Yes, Your Grace," she whispered, defeated, as she lowered her head.
At that mont, Sarah, no longer tried to discreetly peer into the room because Salviana was out front, calming her anxiety by the second. She couldn’t help but be relieved that her worry about Salviana was wrong, she’d been wondering if sothing had happened to her, but she was too afraid to speak up.
Alaric cast a final glance at Margaretha and her entourage, his expression unreadable. "Do you understand?"
Margaretha nodded fervently, though her confusion lingered. "Yes, Your Grace. I understand."
Without another word, Alaric stepped back, the door closing with a resounding finality, leaving the maids standing awkwardly in the hallway. As the thud of the door echoed through the air, Salviana, still nestled against him, exhaled softly. Relief flooded through her body, and she couldn’t help but feel awed by the way he had handled the situation, fiercely defending her without hesitation.
She tilted her head to look up at him, gratitude shining in her eyes.
This was her husband. The vampire. The darkness that was supposed to consu her, and strangely, as she gazed at him, she didn’t mind being taken away into whatever world he hid from this world and the hearts he cherished.
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