Married To Darkness
Chapter 328: Meeting With Tackeros Anyway

Chapter 328: Meeting With Tackeros Anyway

Unless they weren’t here for war. Unless this was about her.

Salviana.

The thought was a sudden, searing thing, setting every nerve in his body alight.

Had they taken her? Had someone from their ranks infiltrated the castle last night? Was this some calculated move—a ransom, a warning, a threat?

He didn’t wait.

Didn’t speak.

Didn’t breathe.

He turned like a man possessed, his cloak whipping behind him, and ran.

He barely heard Samion call his name, barely noticed Lucius struggling to keep up as he darted from shadow to shadow—

All Alaric saw was the path to the castle gates.

Because if the Tackeros Kingdom had his wife—

There would be no talking.

There would be blood.

Alaric’s boots thundered against the stone floors, his heart a wild drum in his chest. Every twist and turn of the castle hall blurred past him—guards rushing, servants whispering, the distant clang of the alarm bells still ringing through the air.

He didn’t stop until he reached the castle’s entrance.

And there, standing firm at the top of the grand staircase leading to the gates, was the king.

"Hold."

The single word cracked like a whip.

Alaric skidded to a halt, his jaw tight, fists clenched at his sides. His blood still roared in his ears. His wife was out there—somewhere. Maybe past those gates, maybe in the hands of the Tackeros Kingdom. And yet, here he was, being stopped.

The king’s gaze was heavy, a mix of authority and something more unreadable. Behind him stood his personal guards—each one poised and unyielding—and beside him, Benjamin, the crown prince, a hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword.

Alaric’s voice came out rough, barely restrained. "Are we letting them in, or are we taking the field?"

The king’s jaw tightened, a flicker of annoyance crossing his stern face. "We are not barbarians. They’ve come to speak."

"Speak?" Alaric scoffed, his chest heaving. "They breached our gates last night."

The king’s eyes darkened. "We don’t know that."

Alaric stepped closer, his voice low, vibrating with barely-contained rage. "Then ask them why they came the very morning after my wife went missing."

A flicker of something—hesitation, perhaps—passed through the king’s expression, but it was gone in an instant.

Benjamin cleared his throat. "We should invite them in, Your Majesty. A field discussion would make us look defensive."

Lucius finally caught up, his umbrella tilted just enough to shield his pale face from the creeping sunlight. Samion hovered at Alaric’s shoulder, his gaze sharp as a blade.

The silence hung heavy.

Alaric’s blood boiled. Every second wasted here was another second Salviana was in danger.

Finally, the king’s voice rang out:

"Invite them in."

A guard by the gates nodded and hurried down the steps.

Alaric’s fists curled, his teeth grinding.

If these men had anything to do with his wife—

They wouldn’t be leaving this castle alive.

The guard, clad in silver armor, crossed the threshold and approached the Tackeros envoys stationed just outside the gates. A tense hush blanketed the air, the only sound the faint rustling of banners in the morning wind.

The Tackeros delegation was small — five men, dressed in dark leather with the symbol of a crimson serpent emblazoned on their cloaks. Their leader, a tall man with silver-streaked hair and an eyepatch, stood at the front. His expression was unreadable, but the slight curve of his mouth suggested an unsettling confidence.

The guard’s voice, firm but formal, broke the silence. "By order of His Majesty, King Gideon, you are invited into the castle for a diplomatic discussion."

For a moment, there was no response. Just a long, drawn-out pause where Alaric’s heart thudded in his chest. He stared at their faces, searching for a flicker of guilt, a clue — anything — that would confirm his darkest fear: that these men were the ones who had taken Salviana.

The leader of the envoys finally inclined his head, his smile a fraction wider. "We accept."

Alaric’s jaw tightened.

The gates groaned open.

The Tackeros men stepped forward, their boots clicking against the stone as they entered the castle grounds. The tension was suffocating — the guards lining the pathway kept their hands hovering near their swords, while Alaric’s gaze never left the leader’s face.

He was watching.

Waiting for the man to slip, to mention his wife, to show a hint of recognition.

But there was nothing.

The king turned to lead the way back into the main hall, and as the procession moved, Alaric found himself walking beside the leader of the Tackeros group.

"Did you have a pleasant night?" Alaric asked softly, the threat beneath his words unmistakable.

The man chuckled, a low sound that made Alaric’s skin crawl. "It was quite eventful, actually."

Alaric’s vision darkened at the edges. His knuckles burned from how tightly he was clenching his fists.

If these men had touched his wife —

He would rip the skin from their bones.

The great hall fell into a heavy silence, the echo of footsteps bouncing off the high stone walls. King Gideon of Wyfn-garde, seated at the head of the long, dark oak table, offered a practiced smile — the kind of smile worn by men who wielded both power and secrets.

"I have been expecting you," Gideon said, his voice smooth yet commanding. "We have a truce to discuss — a marriage truce."

A ripple of murmurs broke out among the nobles and knights lined along the hall’s edges. The Tackeros envoy leader merely inclined his head, a glimmer of interest in his single visible eye.

Alaric, however—

He heard none of it.

Because at that moment, the heavy wooden doors creaked open again... and Prince Jaron stepped inside.

And just before Jaron entered—

Her scent.

Alaric’s entire body locked, his heart going utterly still in his chest.

The delicate, unmistakable fragrance of wild roses and a hint of honeyed lavender — Salviana.

He knew that scent better than he knew his own pulse.

It drifted in faintly, like a whisper, but it was there. Fresh. Recent. Close.

His wife.

She had been near Jaron.

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