Married To Darkness-Chapter 420: The Dress Up Dinner

In a blur of squeals, tugged corsets, and clumsy pirouettes, the chamber turned into a whirlwind of color and joy.

Emma twirled in a wine-colored gown with layered skirts. "Dahhling, fetch me my parasol. I must parade down the garden walk," she said in a comically bad noble accent, striking a pose.

Sarah burst out laughing, wearing a soft sky-blue dress that made her eyes shine. "Yes, m’lady Emma, but do be careful—your royal bottom is too big for that tiny chair!"

They collapsed into each other, laughing until their bellies hurt.

They stood before the mirror, one adjusting the other’s sleeves, pinning strands of damp hair, pretending to be elegant ladies of the court.

"I look... beautiful," Sarah whispered.

"You always did," Emma said, hugging her from behind.

The maids returned with brushes and delicate combs, jars of sweet perfumes and floral oils. For once, the girls didn’t feel like servants, or runaways, or survivors.

They felt seen.

They felt soft. Pretty. Worthy.

As the sun dipped behind the mansion’s tall windows, their room glowed with the warm gold of candlelight. Emma dabbed a light rose-scented oil at her neck, while Sarah giggled from the vanity as a maid styled her curls.

"What a night," Emma murmured.

Sarah smiled, eyes dreamy. "Let’s make it count."

In the west wing, the knights were finishing their own preparations. For the first time in what felt like months, they were out of armor, mud, and endless patrol.

Jaefel adjusted the collar of his dark tunic in the mirror, running a hand through his curly hair. "I almost forgot what I looked like without bandages and blood," he said, half-joking.

Samion, standing nearby, was buttoning up a fitted navy coat. "I almost forgot what it’s like to not sleep with a blade strapped to my thigh."

Lucius, leaning casually against the stone wall in a wine-colored coat, gave them both a crooked smile. "Enjoy it. Nights like these don’t last."

"I plan to," Samion replied. "I miss drinking. I miss good food. I miss..." He paused, a grin forming. "Girls."

Jaefel barked out a laugh. "You’re ridiculous."

"Don’t act like you’re not thinking about her," Samion teased, bumping shoulders with him. "Lady Emma’s been looking at you like you hung the moon."

Jaefel flushed slightly, but didn’t deny it. "Let’s just go."

They stepped out, boots echoing down the polished hallways—no armor, no weapons, no threat. Just men, for once. Men who had survived and still found reason to smile.

And then—they saw them.

Emma and Sarah stood at the top of the staircase, radiant in their gowns, hair done up in ribbons and curls, cheeks flushed with excitement and laughter still fresh in their smiles.

Both knights froze in their tracks.

"Gods," Jaefel whispered.

Samion placed a hand on his chest dramatically. "I’m dying."

The girls looked up—and when they met their gazes, everything stopped for a beat.

Jaefel moved first, stepping up to Emma, his eyes wide with honest admiration. "You look like a storybook," he said softly, voice rough. "Like something out of a dream."

Emma laughed, brushing her hair behind her ear. "I hope it’s a good one."

"The best," he replied, offering her his arm.

Nearby, Samion approached Sarah, doing a small, exaggerated bow that made her giggle.

"Lady Sarah," he said with faux formality. "I fear I must report... I’ve been utterly slain by your beauty."

"Oh please," she teased, but her cheeks went pink and she took his offered hand.

"You clean up well," she added.

Samion winked. "So do you."

Lucius watched from the hall, arms crossed, eyes lingering a little too long on Jean in her lavender gown as she quietly followed behind Salviana.

The night had just begun—but for a few tired hearts, it already felt magical.

Soon it was time.

The dining hall of Prince Embrez’s estate was like a throne room gilded in splendor. High glass chandeliers twinkled like constellations, illuminating the long obsidian table at the center of the room.

Velvet curtains pooled along the marble floors, and a hundred golden candles flickered from the walls. The aroma of roasted meats, spiced wines, and sugared fruits hung thick in the air.

They gathered—Alaric, Salviana, Lucius, Jean, the knights, and their ladies—each seated under the approving smile of their eccentric host.

The maids moved like dancers, pouring wine, setting trays of delicacies, and whispering softly in corners. Salviana sat beside Alaric, smiling tightly, her fingers fidgeting in her lap.

He noticed.

"What’s wrong, my love?" Alaric leaned toward her, speaking low. His golden eyes scanned her face, reading every shift in her expression.

"Nothing," she said quickly.

He raised a brow. "You haven’t touched a thing. That’s unlike you. You love roasted pears."

She sighed, looking down at her untouched plate. "It’s nothing. I’m just... not hungry."

But the truth weighed on her chest. She had no way to slip a drop of her blood into his goblet, or onto his plate—not with so many eyes and hands around. No private moment. No excuse to touch his food.

She’d discovered long ago that her blood—strangely, inexplicably—allowed him to taste human food. Without it, everything on the table would taste like ash to him. Bland and gray, like it used to.

He reached for a slice of meat and chewed.

Then paused.

"Odd," he murmured, chewing again. "I thought... perhaps my taste was returning. Maybe it only works when I’m on the road."

She bit her lip and stared at her plate.

Still, Alaric continued to pile food onto hers. "Eat, Salviana. Even if I can’t enjoy it, you should. You’re too thin."

Across the table, however, there was no lack of appetite—for food or attention.

Lucius sat stiffly on Jean’s right, jaw tight, fork unused.

Prince Embrez reclined on Jean’s left, eyes full of mischief and silver rings glinting as he gestured flamboyantly. "You have the most delicate wrists I’ve ever seen," Embrez was saying, lifting Jean’s hand with exaggerated flair. "Do you play the harp? Or perhaps you’re secretly a royal assassin with blades in your sleeves?"

Jean flushed scarlet. "I... I’m just a lady-in-waiting."