Married To Darkness
Chapter 294: Ready To Kill

Chapter 294: Ready To Kill

Meanwhile, The air in Alaric’s chambers stroke office was heavy with tension and the faint scent of sandalwood, lingering from the oils used to polish the dark wooden furniture.

A gleaming suit of ceremonial armor stood in the corner, a silent reminder of his princely duties, but today, Alaric was to don something far grander—befitting the king’s birthday and the spectacle it promised.

The morning light filtered through the tall windows, casting long shadows on the tapestries that adorned the walls.

Thalia, a young maid with trembling hands and wide, uncertain eyes, stood just inside the doorway, clutching the folds of Alaric’s elaborate attire.

She glanced nervously at the prince, who sat by the window, gazing out at the courtyard below.

He didn’t look at her. His dark eyes were fixed on the distant horizon, where the mountains loomed like silent sentinels.

Alaric’s thoughts were elsewhere—not on the grand celebration or the ceremonial pomp, but on the looming threat of the

Tackeros, the ruthless enemy that had cast a shadow over the realm. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to focus.

"This might be the grandest moment of peace we’ll have," he muttered under his breath, his voice low and edged with frustration. "Before the storm hits."

"Pardon, Your Highness?" Thalia spoke timidly, her voice barely above a whisper.

She had overheard him but wasn’t sure if she was meant to respond.

Alaric finally turned his gaze to her, his sharp features softening ever so slightly as he noticed her trembling.

He hadn’t realized she was standing there, waiting.

She looked like she wanted to be anywhere else but here, and he could hardly blame her.

"Nothing," he said, rising from his seat and running a hand through his slicked-back black hair. "Let’s get this over with."

Thalia nodded quickly, setting the garments down on a nearby table.

The outfit was regal yet modern—a long, dark midnight blue coat embroidered with silver patterns resembling swirling constellations, a fitted white shirt beneath, and finely tailored black trousers.

The coat was designed to accentuate his broad shoulders and tall frame, with a high collar that added a touch of formality.

"Your Highness," Thalia began hesitantly, her hands fumbling with the coat, "if you would—um—please remove your shirt so I can—uh—help you."

Alaric raised an eyebrow at her stammering, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Relax, Thalia. I’m not going to bite."

She flushed a deep crimson, her eyes darting to the floor. "Of course, Your Highness. I didn’t mean—"

"Just... pass me the coat," he interrupted gently, unbuttoning his shirt and handing it to her before shrugging on the crisp white shirt she offered.

He moved with the practiced ease of someone used to formalities but not entirely comfortable with them.

Thalia stepped closer, the coat in her hands, and hesitated. "May I?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

Alaric nodded, standing still as she helped him slide his arms into the sleeves.

Her hands were cold, and they shook slightly as she adjusted the fit of the coat across his shoulders.

"It’s fine," he said after a moment, his tone softer now. "You don’t have to be afraid. I know I’m... not the easiest person to be around."

Thalia’s lips parted in surprise, but she quickly composed herself. "You’re not frightening, Your Highness," she said, though her voice wavered. "I’m just... not very experienced with such duties."

Alaric glanced at her, his dark eyes searching hers for a moment before he chuckled softly. "Well, you’re doing fine so far. Better than most who fumble with these cursed buttons."

She allowed herself a small, tentative smile as she stepped back to survey her work. "Would you like the sash, Your Highness? It’s part of the ensemble."

Alaric sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly. "Of course there’s a sash. There’s always a sash," he muttered.

Thalia quickly retrieved the silver sash, its fabric shimmering as if woven from starlight, and draped it across his torso.

As she adjusted it, she couldn’t help but notice the tension in his frame, the way his muscles coiled like a predator ready to strike.

"Is something troubling you, Your Highness?" she asked timidly, surprised by her own boldness.

Alaric met her gaze, his expression unreadable.

For a moment, he considered brushing her off, but there was something earnest in her eyes that made him pause.

"There’s always something troubling me, Thalia," he said finally, his voice low. "But today, we celebrate. No point in spoiling the mood, is there?"

She nodded, stepping back once more. "You look... very grand, Your Highness," she said, offering a nervous smile.

Alaric looked at himself in the mirror, the constellation patterns on his coat catching the light.

He adjusted the high collar and tugged at the cuffs of his sleeves. "Grand, huh?" he said with a wry grin. "Let’s hope that’s enough to distract everyone from the real problems."

Thalia opened her mouth to respond but quickly closed it, sensing that no reply was needed. Instead, she bowed her head. "I’ll... let the others know you’re ready, Your Highness."

As she hurried toward the door, Alaric called after her, his tone softer than before. "Thank you, Thalia."

She stopped, surprised, and turned to see him watching her with a faint smile. "You’re welcome, Your Highness," she said, bowing deeply before slipping out of the room.

Alaric exhaled, rolling his shoulders as he prepared to step out and face the day.

The storm might be coming, he thought grimly, but for now, we pretend.

~~{────────

~~~~~~~~~~~~}~~~

Alaric stepped out of his chambers, his polished boots clicking faintly against the marble floors as he strode toward Salviana’s chambers.

The hallway seemed quieter than usual, save for the distant hum of the bustling palace preparing for the grand celebration.

He adjusted the silver sash across his chest, his thoughts briefly flickering to the political tension and the looming threat of the Tackeros.

But as he pushed open the door to his wife’s chambers, all those thoughts vanished like mist under the sun.

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