Married To Darkness-Chapter 359: Awkward Journey

She pushed open the heavy doors without hesitation.

Inside, Alaric was in the middle of a meeting, seated at the long oak table, surrounded by his advisors and knights.

The air was tense, discussions quiet but firm, yet the moment she entered, the room fell into silence.

Alaric lifted his gaze to her, his icy blue eyes unreadable.

"Leave us," he commanded, his tone calm yet absolute.

No one hesitated. Papers were gathered, chairs scraped against the floor, and within moments, the room was empty.

The door shut behind the last advisor, and now it was just the two of them.

She was still mad.

And he knew it.

As soon as they were alone in the office, Salviana spoke with quiet determination.

"Let’s go and look for Jean."

Alaric frowned. "What? But Lucius has already left for that."

She didn’t argue. She simply stood, meeting his gaze with unwavering resolve. That was enough. He knew she wasn’t backing down.

With a sigh, he stood as well, grabbing his coat while she turned on her heel. He followed her without another word.

"But where could she be?" he groaned as they made their way down the halls.

"We’re not even sure Lucius has found her or where," Salviana replied evenly.

Alaric exhaled in frustration. "So where are we going? What do we do?"

"To Lucius’s mansion."

By the time they reached the front of the palace, a royal carriage awaited them, polished and grand, its deep blue and gold exterior gleaming in the early morning light.

Two knights, Jaefel and Samion, sat atop their horses beside it, their presence a quiet show of security.

The coachman, Manni, hopped down from the driver’s seat the moment he spotted them. He bowed deeply.

"Welcome back, Princess Salviana," he greeted, his voice warm.

Salviana offered a small smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Thank you. I hope you’ve been well?"

"Yes, though we missed you," Manni said sincerely.

She simply nodded and stepped into the carriage, not in the mood for further conversation.

Alaric lingered a moment, glancing at her before shaking his head.

"I told you the other witch was wrong," Manni added in a lower tone.

Alaric gave a curt nod. "You were right. She was in an elevated place. A tower."

Manni grinned, clearly pleased with himself.

"Thank you," Alaric muttered before stepping inside.

The door shut with a soft but final click, sealing them in together.

And then—silence.

It stretched between them like an invisible wall, thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension.

Salviana turned her head toward the window, watching as the grand palace slowly disappeared behind them, replaced by the blurred outlines of trees and cobblestone streets.

The early morning mist clung to the ground, swirling like ghosts beneath the carriage wheels.

She shifted slightly in her seat, her hands clasped in her lap, fingers twisting together in frustration.

Alaric sat across from her, arms folded, his posture rigid. He was staring out the opposite window, his jaw clenched, as if trying to rein in his emotions. It was their first real fight as a married couple—one that neither of them had expected, and neither of them knew how to navigate.

She missed him already.

The thought was infuriating.

She was angry at him, at his stubbornness, at the way he had refused her, but she also hated this distance between them.

They had always been partners, always worked toward the same goal.

Now, it felt like they were standing on opposite sides of a battlefield, neither willing to make the first move toward peace.

Alaric exhaled slowly, running a hand through his dark hair before shifting in his seat. He could feel her anger, just as she could feel his frustration.

It was ridiculous, really—how two people who loved each other so fiercely could also drive each other mad.

He glanced at her then, just for a second, but she didn’t turn to meet his gaze.

Outside, the scenery continued to change, the bustling city fading into quiet, open roads.

The rhythmic clatter of the carriage wheels filled the space between them, but it did nothing to ease the ache in Alaric’s chest.

This wasn’t how things were supposed to be.

She was supposed to be in his arms, laughing, teasing him. They were supposed to be fighting together, not against each other.

He sighed, shifting again, his boot tapping restlessly against the floor.

Salviana noticed. She always noticed.

Her fingers curled tighter in her lap.

Neither spoke.

Neither reached out.

And yet, both of them were painfully aware of just how much they missed each other.

The carriage rolled to a smooth stop in front of Lucius’s grand mansion, the towering structure dark and imposing against the pale morning sky.

Alaric was the first to step out. The crisp air greeted him, cool against his face, but it was nothing compared to the cold weight of the distance between him and Salviana.

He turned back, offering his hand.

Their gazes met—black and green, a silent clash of emotions neither of them dared to speak aloud.

For a moment, she hesitated, her pride making her want to ignore the gesture.

But then, with a quiet breath, she placed her hand in his, letting him help her down.

She was nearly in his arms, just for a second, and that’s when she felt it—his subtle inhale, the way his nose barely brushed her hair.

He was breathing her in.

He missed her.

The realization sent a sharp pang through her chest, but before she could react, he had already stepped back, letting go of her hand.

No embrace. No words. Just that fleeting moment of weakness before he returned to his usual nonchalance.

Her heart shifted painfully.

They walked toward the entrance, side by side yet worlds apart.

The heavy wooden doors loomed before them, and Alaric knocked, the sound echoing in the quiet.

Then, in a cruel rush of wind, the door swung open—not by human hands, but by something faster, something unnatural.

Lucius stood there, his presence as chilling as the gust that accompanied him. His dark, almost soulless eyes flickered over them both, expression unreadable.

The eerie stillness of the mansion seemed to stretch behind him, as if the walls themselves held secrets.

Salviana tightened her fingers into fists at her sides, bracing herself.

Alaric’s posture tensed ever so slightly.

Something was off.

And they were about to find out exactly what.

"You didn’t report to work today," Alaric stated, his voice carrying the weight of both irritation and concern.

Lucius scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "I don’t work for you."

Alaric exhaled sharply through his nose, his jaw ticking. He and Lucius had always had an uneasy understanding—friends, but not quite equals.

Lucius had been entrusted with guarding Jean, but it was clear his priorities had shifted.

"And yet, you were assigned to protect Jean," Alaric reminded him coolly.

Lucius rolled his eyes. "And I did. Until she ran off."

Salviana, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke up, her voice sharp as a blade. "Enough." She turned to Alaric, her green eyes flashing. "Why are you picking a fight when we’re here to find Jean?"

Alaric’s lips pressed into a thin line, but he said nothing.

Lucius smirked slightly at the reprimand but didn’t comment. Instead, he took a step back, gesturing toward the dimly lit interior of his mansion. "Well? Are you coming in or not?"

Salviana didn’t hesitate. She swept past him, her focus solely on finding Jean. Alaric followed, still bristling with irritation.

The heavy door shut behind them, and the air inside felt thick with something unspoken.

Salviana turned back to Lucius, her voice firm. "Is Jean here?"

The silence stretched.

And then—

Badum.

A single, distant thud.

A heartbeat.

A presence.

And just like that, the atmosphere in the mansion shifted.

Lucius’s expression darkened for a fraction of a second before he turned away, exhaling heavily.

"You could come back later," he muttered, running a hand through his damp hair.

Salviana stepped forward. "Jean is here, isn’t she?"

Lucius didn’t respond immediately, but the way his jaw clenched gave him away. ƒrēenovelkiss.com

Alaric, impatient, took a step closer. "Lucius."

A beat passed. Then another.

Finally, Lucius sighed and nodded toward the hallway. "She’s sick."

Salviana’s breath caught. "Sick? What do you mean sick?"

Lucius hesitated, his usual arrogance dimmed by something else—something dangerously close to worry. "She’s running a fever. It started after she got back."

Salviana didn’t wait for more. She brushed past Lucius, heading toward the hallway with purpose. Alaric followed without a word.

Lucius exhaled and ran a hand down his face. "You’re both insufferable," he grumbled, then turned and led them toward Jean’s room.

They climbed the stairs, Alaric leading the way. His enhanced hearing had already pinpointed Jean’s heartbeat—faint but steady.

Salviana’s concern deepened as they reached the door. She hesitated for a second before knocking softly.

"Jean?" she called, her voice gentle but urgent. No answer.

She knocked again, firmer this time. "Jean, sweetheart, it’s me."

Still nothing.

Salviana pressed her forehead against the door, closing her eyes. "I’m sorry," she murmured. "Please open the door. Let’s talk."

Alaric and Lucius exchanged a glance. Lucius looked tense, his jaw tight, while Alaric exhaled sharply, glancing at the door as if debating whether to break it down.

The silence stretched.

Then—a rustling sound from inside.

A heartbeat quickened.

Jean was listening.