Chapter 57: Missing The Peace of Her
A chill crept over her. Could Alaric... could he have...? She shuddered involuntarily, recoiling from the idea. She knew he was different, but this—this was something else. She wanted to dismiss it, to believe it was only a twisted exaggeration, but Priscilla had been here long before she had—long enough to know things Salviana might never uncover on her own.
Needing air, Salviana forced a polite smile. "I’ll take lunch now, Priscilla—inform Emma, or just... take a break," she said, her voice brittle.
Salviana fought to keep her face composed, though Priscilla’s words filled her with a strange, thrilling unease. "Thank you, Priscilla. I believe that’s enough."
Priscilla gave her a mocking little bow, the smile on her lips playful and smug. "As you wish, Princess. But if you ever want to know more... just ask."
"No," Salviana said sharply.
"But—" Priscilla began, as if she hadn’t yet exhausted her desire to gossip.
"Thank you," Salviana cut in curtly, holding herself together just long enough to be civil. She didn’t want to believe any of this, yet the thoughts clung to her mind like shadows.
With a small, sly smirk, Priscilla turned and left, casting one last glance over her shoulder that Salviana, deep in thought, never noticed.
Alone now, Salviana’s mind churned with conflicted feelings—worry, curiosity, even a flicker of fear. Who exactly was she married to? She had thought she understood the cold, distant prince whose gaze often felt like it cut through her. But now... was he a stranger, hiding a side of himself no one dared confront?