Married To Darkness
Chapter 262: The Peaceful Night.

Chapter 262: The Peaceful Night.

"A flower," Heappal said simply. "Delicate, rare, and beautiful. But strong enough to grow even in the harshest places."

Thalia’s breath hitched at his words, her fingers stilling over the basket. She shook her head, her voice trembling as she said, "I’m not strong."

"You’re stronger than you think," Heappal countered firmly.

He reached out, his fingers brushing hers as he gently took the flower she was holding. "And if you’re not... I’ll be strong enough for the both of us."

Thalia’s cheeks burned, and she quickly stood, clutching the basket to her chest like a shield. "You’re saying too much," she mumbled, her voice almost scolding.

Heappal laughed softly, rising to his feet as well. "I can’t help it," he said, his smile disarming. "You make it impossible to stay silent."

Thalia turned away, the flowers in her basket trembling slightly as her hands shook. "I... I have to go," she said quickly, taking a step toward the servants’ quarters.

But Heappal wasn’t ready to let her escape just yet. "Wait," he said, reaching out to gently catch her arm. She froze, her heart pounding in her chest as she turned to look at him.

He held out a small wildflower he had plucked from the garden—a simple bloom, but its petals were a vivid shade of red that matched the blush on her cheeks. "For you," he said softly.

Thalia stared at the flower for a long moment before hesitantly taking it from his hand. Her fingers brushed his, and the brief contact made her feel like her skin was on fire.

"Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Heappal grinned, stepping back to give her space. "You’re welcome. But don’t think this is the last time I’ll give you a flower, Thalia. I’m not giving up that easily."

She didn’t reply, instead clutching the little flower in her hand as she turned and hurried back to the servants’ quarters.

Her heart was racing, and her mind was a whirl of emotions she couldn’t quite name.

Heappal watched her go, a satisfied smile on his face. "One step at a time," he murmured to himself, before turning back to the garden, his heart lighter than it had been in weeks.

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The group of five—Alaric, Salviana, Jean, Lucius, and Sarah—returned to the castle as the night deepened. The cool air carried a faint scent of jasmine, and the faint glow of torches illuminated the grand halls. They dispersed into their respective destinations with a sense of quiet routine, though some carried thoughts far too loud to ignore.

Alaric placed a hand on Salviana’s lower back as they walked towards their chambers. "It’s been a long day," he murmured, his voice low but tender.

Salviana glanced up at him with a soft smile, though her eyes were a little tired. "It has, but it was good. I think Lucius appreciated the gesture. And Sarah—she looked so happy."

Alaric chuckled, pushing open the heavy oak door to their chambers. "That girl jogged off like she had been gifted the moon. I suppose you have a knack for making people feel valued."

"Well," Salviana said with a mischievous tilt of her head, "it wouldn’t kill you to try that, too."

"Noted," Alaric replied with a smirk as he closed the door behind them.

Meanwhile, Sarah practically skipped toward the servants’ quarters, her skirts swishing with every enthusiastic step. She hummed a cheerful tune, her heart full from the evening’s unexpected indulgence at the bistro.

"Sarah, what’s got you so giddy?" one of the older maids teased as she passed her in the corridor.

Sarah grinned. "Oh, nothing. Just had a wonderful evening with their highnesses. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow!" She darted off before the older maid could ask for details, her steps light and joyful as she reached her quarters.

Not far behind her, Jean walked at a measured pace toward her room, her face a mask of calm detachment. She could feel Lucius trailing behind her, his presence as tangible as a shadow.

When she reached her door, she turned abruptly, startling him. "Why are you following me?" she asked, her tone guarded but not unkind.

Lucius blinked, caught off guard but recovering quickly. "I wasn’t following you."

Jean raised a brow, her hand still on the door handle. "You’re standing right behind me."

"I was merely ensuring you got to your quarters safely," Lucius said smoothly, leaning against the wall with an easy grace. "Wouldn’t want anything to happen to you on your grand journey from the castle gates to your room."

Jean rolled her eyes but couldn’t quite suppress the faintest twitch of her lips. "I can manage, thank you."

"Clearly," Lucius replied, his gaze lingering on her a moment longer than necessary.

Jean sighed, opening her door and stepping inside. "Good night, Lucius."

"Good night," he said, though he remained leaning against the wall for a few moments after she closed the door, his expression unreadable.

In their chambers, Salviana untied the laces of her dress, her movements slow and deliberate. "Do you think Jean will ever warm up to Lucius?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder at Alaric.

Alaric, already half-undressed and reclining on a chaise, shrugged. "Lucius has a way of growing on people—like moss."

Salviana laughed softly. "That’s not exactly a compliment."

"It wasn’t meant to be," Alaric said with a smirk. Then, after a pause, he added more seriously, "But if anyone can break through that wall of hers, it’s him. He’s persistent, and he’s... not as bad as he pretends to be."

Salviana nodded thoughtfully, turning back to him. "Do you think we’ve done enough for Lucius? Helping with the house and all?"

Alaric’s expression softened. "We’ve done what we could. The rest is up to him. And Jean, if she lets him in."

Satisfied with his answer, Salviana crossed the room and curled up beside him on the chaise.

The night stretched on, peaceful and quiet, as each member of the group settled into their corners of the castle, their minds wandering to the day’s events and what lay ahead.

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