Chapter 8: Salviana & the Maids
Morning came, and Salviana woke to the soft, hesitant knock at the door. The sound was so faint it barely disturbed her, as if the person behind it would much rather flee than disrupt her rest. She blinked drowsily, caught between the dream world and the present. But as she turned over in bed, seeking a more comfortable position, reality struck her like a bolt of lightning.
'I'm married!.'
Her eyes flew open in a mix of horror and panic. For a moment, she lay frozen, her heart thudding in her chest. 'What would they think if I didn't answer right away?' Unladylike, tardy, undisciplined? The weight of her new status pressed down on her, and instinct took over. She leaped out of bed, her nightdress fluttering around her like a cloud, ignoring the tangled state of her hair.
How had she slept till morning? She'd been sure she wouldn't relax that much and she would've thought it was still night if not for the light streaming in through the windows. She found it hard to believe she'd survived the night. Unscathed and she even slept off her stress.
She rushed to the door, intent on answering the knock as quickly as possible—if only to appear properly human, at least.
Before her hand could grasp the handle, a voice—low, commanding, and far too close—halted her in her tracks.
"Where do you think you're going?"
The sound of her husband's voice sent a chill up her spine.
Thinking he didn't return last night was her mistake, this was his chambers afterall, Salviana turned slowly to face him, her heart quickening and searching for company as her eyes met his. He stood near the window, his dark, intense gaze locking onto hers with a coldness she assumed is there now because she slept off last night instead of performing her duties.
Leisurely he waited for her to speak but his presence seemed to fill the room, and the air thickened, making it hard to breathe.
"There's someone at the door," she whispered, her voice small and unsure, betraying the anxiety bubbling inside her.