Married To Darkness
Chapter 315: The Payment For Evil & Gossip

Chapter 315: The Payment For Evil & Gossip

Knights and guards turned silk-lined suitcases upside down, checked beneath luxurious cloaks, and poked at everything with suspicion.

A few of the drunker guests had collapsed on the stone steps, snoring, while others whispered behind gloved hands.

"This is absurd," someone muttered.

"The princess is missing," another voice countered, hushed yet alarmed. "If something happened to her in this castle, what does that say about the security?"

Jean stood nearby, stiff with guilt. She had barely spoken since joining the search, her face pale. She should have followed the princess.

Should have kept her in sight. Instead, she had been too distracted by Lucius—

She shook the thought from her head.

Lucius, noticing her distress, nudged her shoulder lightly. "Stop blaming yourself," he murmured. "You’ll have time to beat yourself up later. Right now, we need to find her."

Jean swallowed, nodding.

By the gates, Alaric’s anger only grew as the search continued without results. His fingers twitched, aching to strike something.

The guards were careful, but their inspections slowed as exhaustion set in.

"Faster!" Alaric barked, his patience wearing thin. "No detail overlooked!"

"Your Highness," Samion approached cautiously. "The guests are becoming restless. The king may—"

"I don’t give a damn about the king," Alaric cut him off, his voice sharp. "My wife is missing."

The statement sent another ripple of unease through the crowd.

The night was cold, and still, the stars hidden behind thick clouds.

The grand torches flickered in the courtyard, casting long shadows on the castle walls.

As the last carriage was searched and let through, a deep frustration settled in Alaric’s bones.

If she wasn’t with the guests... where was she?

Then, a thought struck him.

Had anyone checked the hidden passages?

His stomach twisted.

With one last glare at the departing nobles, Alaric turned sharply on his heel and stormed back towards the castle.

If Salviana had been taken, or if she had gone somewhere alone—there were only so many places she could be.

And he would tear this castle apart to find her.

~~{─────────

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

The tension in the castle thickened like fog rolling in before a storm. The longer Salviana remained missing, the more the atmosphere shifted.

What had started as murmurs of curiosity had turned into full-blown speculation, spreading like wildfire.

Some of the noblewomen clutched their shawls, whispering behind gloved hands as their eyes followed Alaric’s every frantic movement.

"He must truly love her," Lady Yvette sighed, watching as Alaric barked orders, his face tense with worry. "I wish my husband would panic like that if I went missing."

"Hah, don’t be ridiculous," her companion, Lady Faye, scoffed. "Your husband wouldn’t notice you were gone until he ran out of wine."

A few of the younger ladies, flushed from both wine and excitement, swooned at the sight of Alaric in his dark, regal attire—his sharp features illuminated by torchlight, his presence commanding even in desperation.

"A man that powerful, that devoted... Imagine having him search the entire castle for you," one murmured dreamily.

But not all the women felt admiration.

Others were seething with jealousy.

"Why is he so obsessed with that witch?" Lady Corinne spat, folding her arms. "She should be grateful to be missing. Maybe she finally realized she doesn’t belong here."

"Careful what you say," another woman warned in a hushed tone, glancing around nervously. "If he hears you, he might have you thrown into the dungeons."

The jealous ones weren’t the only ones unsettled.

Among the crowd, several women exchanged fearful glances.

The thought of what might happen if the princess wasn’t found weighed heavily on them.

"If he doesn’t find her... he’ll turn this castle upside down," a servant girl whispered to her friend, her hands trembling as she wiped a silver tray.

"Turn it upside down?" her friend scoffed. "More like burn it to the ground."

They weren’t entirely wrong.

The longer Alaric went without answers, the more dangerous his energy became. His frustration was palpable, his patience dwindling by the second.

The noblewomen weren’t the only ones whispering.

The guards, knights, and even the kitchen staff had begun to spin their own theories.

"What if she ran away?" one of the footmen asked as he stacked empty goblets. "She never looked happy here."

"Fool," the head butler snapped. "The princess wouldn’t leave without a reason. Something happened to her."

"Maybe she was taken," a kitchen maid muttered, eyes darting around. "Or worse..."

The words hung in the air, unspoken fears thickening between them.

Back in the courtyard, Alaric had no time for gossip. He knew people were talking, but he didn’t care.

The only thing that mattered was finding her.

And if someone had taken her...

They would pay in blood.

~~{────────

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

Soon it was way darker and the castle less noisy.

Alaric stood at the castle’s grand entrance, his sharp eyes scanning the departing guests with cold intensity.

Every carriage, every departing noble, every servant—searched. Yet nothing. No sign of her.

He inhaled sharply, clenching his fists at his sides. This wasn’t failure. This was progress.

"She’s still in the castle."

The realization sent a fresh wave of urgency through him. It ruled out the possibility of an outsider taking her.

The enemy was within. Someone in these walls had dared to take what was his.

And they were still here.

Lucius approached, his face grim. "The last of the guests have been searched. Nothing suspicious."

Alaric gave a curt nod, exhaling through his nose. He knew Lucius wasn’t lying.

His guards had been thorough, overturning luggage, scanning every inch of the departing carriages. But deep inside, the fire of his rage only burned hotter.

Jean, standing nearby, looked equally disturbed. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her cloak.

"At least we know she’s still inside," she offered hesitantly, though she knew it was little consolation to a man on the brink of losing his sanity.

Alaric’s mind was a battlefield. Logic fought against the rising storm of his emotions, but it was a losing battle.

His rage clawed at him, a beast demanding to be unleashed.

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