Chapter 92: Uncomfortable Occurrence.
~~~{────────────
Morning.
Bedroom, Wyfkeep Castle.
Wyfellon, Wyfn-Garde.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~}~~~
Morning light crept softly into the chamber, casting a warm glow over Salviana’s face as she stirred, blinking herself awake. The first thing she felt was the solid weight of Alaric’s arm draped around her, holding her close. His breathing was steady, a gentle rise and fall, and his face looked softer than she’d ever seen it—a peaceful expression that softened his otherwise intense features.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him this vulnerable, if ever. Did he even sleep most nights? She wondered, finding it hard to imagine him still and resting rather than prowling the halls or tending to some matter of the night.
Her curiosity lingered, absorbing the subtle details of his sleeping form: the way his dark lashes rested against his cheeks, the slight part of his lips, and his relaxed brow, free of its usual intensity. She bit back a smile, thinking how strange it was to see her fierce, imposing husband so tranquil.
But then her attention drifted to her own situation—a pressing need she could no longer ignore. Her legs shifted, pressing together, and she squeezed her eyes shut in discomfort, trying to delay it just a bit longer.