Married To Darkness
Chapter 292: Further Preparations In Wyfn-Garde

Chapter 292: Further Preparations In Wyfn-Garde

When Rose finally drifted off to sleep, Salviana placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

She turned to the maids, her voice low but commanding. "Continue to watch over her. Keep the room quiet and cool. If her fever rises again, send for me immediately."

As she rose to leave, Emma tugged on her skirt once more. "Mama?" the toddler asked, tilting her head.

Salviana crouched down, meeting the child’s gaze. "No, Emma," she said with a smile. "But I’ll always come when you call."

The toddler beamed, throwing her tiny arms around Salviana’s neck in a clumsy hug.

As Salviana left the room, her heart felt lighter despite the weight of the rumors surrounding her.

Little Rose would recover, and for now, that was enough.

Back in the hallway, Jean walked beside her, her expression thoughtful. "You know they’ll twist this into something else," she said quietly.

"Let them," Salviana replied, her chin held high. "I’d rather be cursed for kindness than praised for cruelty."

And so, the whispers continued, but in the quiet nursery, Little Rose slept peacefully, her fevered dreams soothed by the memory of fire-bright hair and a lullaby sung with love.

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The morning of the king’s grand birthday was a whirlwind of activity, each corner of the castle buzzing with energy.

The kitchen was the heart of it all, a cacophony of clanging pots, chopping knives, and hurried footsteps.

The aroma of roasting meats, freshly baked bread, and spiced pastries filled the air, mingling with the occasional tang of spilled wine or broth.

"Move faster! The pheasants need to be plated within the hour!" bellowed Chef Baudry, a stocky man with a face perpetually red from heat and fury. His staff scurried about like ants, dodging one another as they carried trays piled high with food.

A young kitchen boy stumbled, nearly dropping a tray of candied apples. "Careful, lad!" snapped one of the senior cooks, grabbing the tray just in time.

"Sorry, sir!" the boy stammered, his face pale as he hurried off to his next task.

At the far end of the kitchen, two maids were giggling as they arranged a platter of desserts. "Did you see the gown Lady Salviana wore yesterday? The one with the emeralds?" one asked.

"Yes, but have you heard the rumors?" the other whispered, glancing around nervously. "They say she’s a—"

"Back to work!" Chef Baudry’s booming voice cut through the chatter like a knife. "If I catch anyone gossiping instead of working, you’ll be on latrine duty for a month!"

The maids turned red and busied themselves, though their curiosity remained evident in their stolen glances.

Outside the castle, the guards were equally busy. At the main gate, a long line of carriages waited to be inspected before entering the castle grounds.

The clatter of hooves and the creak of wooden wheels created a rhythmic din, accompanied by the voices of merchants, nobles, and visitors.

"Next carriage!" barked Captain Durain, a grizzled man with a stern face and sharp eyes.

A sleek black carriage pulled forward, its gold trim glinting in the sunlight. The coachman tipped his hat as the guards approached.

"State your business," one guard demanded.

The coachman handed over an invitation sealed with the royal crest. "Lord Arlequin and his family, here for His Majesty’s birthday," he said.

Captain Durain inspected the document carefully, his keen eyes scanning for any signs of forgery. Satisfied, he nodded. "Let them through."

As the carriage rolled forward, Durain turned to his men. "Stay alert. The king doesn’t need any surprises today."

The guards nodded, tightening their grips on their weapons as they continued their inspections.

Back in the stables, the horses were being prepared with equal care. Grooms brushed their coats until they gleamed, while stable hands checked the saddles and reins for any signs of wear.

"Easy now, boy," murmured one groom as he soothed a restless stallion. The horse snorted, tossing its head, but eventually calmed under the man’s skilled hands.

Another groom chuckled from across the stable. "That one’s got spirit. Maybe he should carry the king himself today."

"Don’t be daft," the first groom replied with a grin. "Only the finest and calmest for His Majesty."

The horses destined for the royal carriages were adorned with intricate harnesses, their bridles inlaid with gold and silver. They stood proudly, their polished hooves clopping softly against the stable floor.

As the preparations continued, the castle courtyard began to fill with guests. Nobles in their finest attire mingled, their laughter and chatter echoing off the stone walls. Ladies in elaborate gowns and jewels exchanged pleasantries, their fans fluttering as they spoke.

"I heard the king’s new wine cellar is being opened today," one noblewoman said, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Indeed," replied another, adjusting the feathers in her hat. "And I hear the crown prince has planned a surprise performance for His Majesty."

Meanwhile, children darted between the adults, their laughter adding to the lively atmosphere.

In the midst of the bustle, a young maid hurried through the castle halls, carrying a tray of goblets filled with wine. She nearly collided with another servant as she rounded a corner.

"Watch it!" the man hissed, steadying the tray before any of the wine could spill.

"Sorry!" the maid replied, her cheeks flushing as she continued on her way.

She entered the main hall, where the grand dining table was being set. The table was an opulent display, adorned with a pristine white cloth, golden candelabras, and floral arrangements that filled the air with their sweet scent. Silverware gleamed under the sunlight streaming through the tall windows, and crystal glasses sparkled like diamonds.

The steward overseeing the preparations clapped his hands. "Hurry up! The guests will be arriving soon, and His Majesty will not tolerate any delays!"

As the final touches were made, the sound of trumpets echoed through the castle, signaling the arrival of the first wave of guests. The guards at the gate straightened their postures, and the kitchen erupted into even greater chaos.

"Here we go," muttered Chef Baudry, wiping his brow. "Let’s hope everything’s perfect—or we’re all doomed."

In the distance, the sound of horses and carriages grew louder as the castle prepared to welcome its guests for the grand celebration. The air was thick with anticipation, excitement, and just a hint of unease. After all, in a kingdom as vast and powerful as Velthorne, even a birthday celebration could turn into a day to remember—for better or worse.