Married To Darkness
Chapter 281: Lifting The Ban

Chapter 281: Lifting The Ban

"And yet," Lucius replied, his voice dropping to a playful whisper, "here I am, standing next to the most radiant lady in the room."

Jean rolled her eyes but felt a blush creeping up her cheeks.

Meanwhile, the brave maid, Emma, stood before the gathered court. Her courage and resilience during the harrowing events had not gone unnoticed.

The king, in his magnanimity, declared her the head of the seventh princess’s chamber maids, a position of honor and responsibility.

Emma curtsied deeply, her expression a mixture of pride and humility. "Thank you, Your Majesty. I will serve with loyalty and diligence."

Applause rippled through the court, and Salviana caught Emma’s eye, offering her a warm, encouraging smile.

Lucius and Jean were next to be recognized. The king addressed them directly.

"Lucius and Lady Jean," he began, his voice carrying across the hall, "your contributions to the safety and justice of this kingdom have not gone unnoticed. We thank you for your bravery and steadfastness in the face of such danger."

Lucius gave a slight bow, his expression calm but respectful. "It is our duty to serve, Your Majesty."

Jean, standing beside him, felt a sense of pride swell in her chest.

Despite her insecurities, she had played a role in something monumental, and the acknowledgment meant more than she could express.

Attention then turned to the two princesses, Christina and Jolene, who had been retrieved from the clinic after their involvement in the dark events.

Their pale faces bore the weight of their actions and the consequences to come.

"They will not return to the dungeons," the king announced firmly. "But their crimes—attempted murder on a fellow princess—cannot go unpunished."

A murmur spread through the hall.

"They are to be placed under strict house arrest," the king continued. "Their roles will be reconsidered, and they will not regain their status until they prove themselves useful to the kingdom."

The queen, seated beside him, sighed softly.

She managed a faint smile for the sake of decorum, though her disappointment was evident. "We will guide them to redemption," she said diplomatically, her voice even and calm.

As the court adjourned, the group began to filter out, reflecting on the events of the day.

Though the kingdom had been spared from further destruction, the scars of the ordeal lingered.

There was a quiet understanding that this was only the beginning of the changes to come.

As the group made their way out of the court, they were intercepted halfway by the king’s brother, Lawrence, and his wife, Agatha.

The air shifted slightly, tension rippling between the two families like an undercurrent waiting to surface.

Agatha approached Salviana first, offering a warm, almost maternal hug. "I’m so sorry I didn’t come to check on you when you were unwell," Agatha said sincerely, her voice tinged with guilt. "Little Rose has been sick, and I’ve been tied up taking care of her. I hope you understand."

Salviana’s features softened at the mention of Rose, Warren’s young daughter. "I didn’t know Rose was ill," she said, concern flickering across her face. "I wish I could have come to check on her."

Agatha shook her head, her hands clasping Salviana’s in reassurance. "No, no, you had your own burdens. But perhaps, when things settle, you could visit her. She’s been asking about you."

Salviana nodded with a faint smile, but her gaze shifted and froze when it landed on Enid, Lawrence’s son.

Her husband’s cousin stood off to the side, his smug expression unchanged. Memories of his past attempts to seduce her surfaced, and her stomach churned with distaste.

She methodically suppressed the urge to scowl but couldn’t hide the flicker of disdain in her eyes.

Lawrence stepped forward, his hand outstretched, aiming for Alaric’s shoulder.

However, before the gesture could land, Alaric turned sharply, his piercing gaze locking onto the man.

Lawrence froze mid-motion, his hand falling awkwardly to his side.

"It’s been far too long, Alaric," Lawrence said, a forced smile playing on his lips. His tone was drenched in hypocrisy. "But don’t you think throwing your cousins into the dungeons was... excessive? A small misunderstanding, surely."

Alaric’s icy glare didn’t waver, and the faintest shift in his posture suggested that Lawrence’s words had struck a nerve.

The tension between them thickened, palpable enough to cut through.

Sensing the growing hostility, Warren, Lawrence’s son and Rose’s father, stepped forward hastily. "Father," he said firmly, positioning himself between the two men. "Perhaps now isn’t the time."

Warren’s presence seemed to cool the intensity radiating off Alaric, though only slightly.

Salviana felt the heat of her husband’s anger through the gloved hand she now clasped tightly in her own.

"It’s fine," Salviana said quietly, her voice steady as she tried to redirect the moment.

Her fingers brushed against the smooth leather of Alaric’s gloves, and she felt a bittersweet pang.

He had stopped wearing them regularly long ago, but she was relieved he had chosen to wear them today.

In moments like this, with pointed fingers and insincere smiles all around, she thought perhaps they gave him a layer of protection—not physically, but emotionally.

Warren offered a disarming smile to Salviana and Alaric. "We’re glad you’re safe," he said earnestly, his voice a stark contrast to his father’s.

Agatha, ever the peacemaker, placed a gentle hand on her husband’s arm, coaxing him to step back. "Let’s not spoil this moment," she said softly. "This is a day to be thankful, not divisive."

As they moved on, the group left on what could only be described as a fine note.

Salviana released a deep breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, thankful for the few good souls—Warren and Agatha—amid the storm of the king’s brother’s family.

Before they could go much further, the bustling noise of the court was interrupted by a booming voice.

"Princess Salviana!"

The entire crowd stilled, heads turning toward the source.

It was the king himself, striding toward the couple with an air of regal authority.

His voice commanded attention, and in the silence, every eye was on Salviana and Alaric.

The king halted a few steps away from them, his sharp gaze softened with a practiced smile. "I have an announcement," he began, his voice carrying the weight of finality. "The ban on the couple’s presence in the Grand Dining Hall is officially lifted. From now on, Princess Salviana and Prince Alaric may join us for breakfast and dinner with the royal family."

There was a collective murmur from the crowd, quickly followed by scattered applause and cheers of approval.

Court members congratulated the couple, their expressions ranging from genuine smiles to forced pleasantries.

Salviana stood still, a polite smile frozen on her face.

Somewhere deep down, she thought this moment should feel triumphant, a long-awaited victory.

And yet, as the king’s words echoed in her ears, she realized she didn’t feel the happiness she had imagined.

The warmth, the relief—it wasn’t there. Instead, there was a strange hollowness.

"We’ll consider it," she said graciously, her tone even but distant.

Beside her, Alaric moved to speak, his posture stiff and his expression unreadable.

His mouth opened, but Salviana cut him off with a sharp glare, one that silently demanded his compliance.

He frowned but said nothing, his hands folding behind his back as he stood silently beside her.

The king’s smile widened, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "I’m glad to hear that," he said smoothly.

But as he turned and walked away, his smile dropped instantly, replaced by the cold, calculated mask he usually wore when the pretense wasn’t required.

As the crowd resumed its chatter and murmuring, Jean and Lucius appeared, rushing to join Salviana and Alaric.

"Are you all right?" Jean asked breathlessly, her gaze darting nervously around the court.

Lucius, ever the stoic, simply nodded toward the exit, silently urging them to leave before any more scenes unfolded.

Salviana exhaled softly, steadying herself. "Let’s go," she said, her voice low but firm.

With their maids and newly appointed guards trailing behind them, the group finally left the court, heading toward the sanctuary of their mansion.

After breakfast, Salviana and Alaric retreated to their chambers.

The morning light spilled through the tall windows, illuminating their private space with a soft, golden hue.

As they stood together, Salviana spoke, her voice carrying a note of calm determination.

"I think I’ll continue the painting I started the other day," she said thoughtfully.

Alaric nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "And I’ll tend to the garden. It’s been a while since I worked on it."

It had been their shared project, a space they had envisioned together. He had designed the layout, she had added her ideas, and now, the garden was slowly becoming a haven of beauty and tranquility.

"Then let’s stay in the garden together," Salviana suggested, her green eyes softening.

Alaric’s gaze lingered on her for a moment, then he nodded again. "Agreed."

The maids were quick to assist, bustling about to prepare Salviana’s painting stool, canvas, and supplies.

They carried everything outside, carefully setting up a shaded spot where Salviana could work undisturbed.

Meanwhile, the couple changed into more comfortable attire for the day.

Salviana donned a light dress, perfect for the warm weather, while Alaric opted for a tailored shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

By the time they stepped out into the garden, the sun had risen higher, casting a bright glow over the neatly arranged flowers and freshly tilled soil.

The scent of blossoms and the hum of bees filled the air, creating a serene backdrop for their morning.

Salviana settled into her stool, brushing her fingers over the canvas as she picked up her palette.

Alaric, on the other hand, strode toward a section of the garden that needed tending, his movements deliberate and focused.

For a while, they worked in companionable silence, their separate tasks drawing them into the same shared space.

The garden seemed alive with their presence, a reflection of the bond they had nurtured despite the challenges around them.