Married To Darkness-Chapter 364: The Castle, The Clash

"Shut up Lucius, I’m the prince and I’m not even complaining," Alaric said to his friend as they stepped into the bar.

A burly man at the bar let out a booming laugh, slapping the back of another patron so hard that his drink sloshed onto the table.

A group of merchants argued over a dice game, while a trio of women in revealing dresses whispered and giggled as they eyed the newcomers.

Jean ignored it all and zeroed in on the food.

She turned to Lucius, eyes wide with hunger. "We’re getting the biggest platter they have."

Lucius smirked. "Do I have a say in this?"

"No."

Alaric, meanwhile, pulled Salviana closer as a few wandering eyes lingered on her. His voice was low but firm. "We’ll eat quickly and leave."

Salviana raised an amused eyebrow. "Worried someone might steal me away?"

Alaric didn’t answer, but the way he tightened his grip said enough.

Manni led them to a table, and a plump barmaid soon arrived, balancing a tray on her hip. "What can I get ya, dearies?"

Jean didn’t hesitate. "The biggest platter of food you have."

The barmaid chuckled. "A hungry one, are ya?"

Jean nodded solemnly. "You don’t understand. I fought a mud demon this morning."

The barmaid blinked, then laughed. "I like you, lass. I’ll bring extra bread."

As they settled in, Jean grinned at Lucius. "See? This place is great."

Lucius shook his head with a smirk. "You’re impossible."

But as the food arrived—steaming meats, buttery potatoes, fresh bread, and hot cider—even he had to admit:

The Rusty Stag wasn’t so bad after all.

After a hearty meal at The Rusty Stag, the group resumed their journey. The roads were still damp from the morning rain, but the carriage moved smoothly now, carrying them toward the looming silhouette of the castle.

As they approached, the towering gates stood firm, guarded by heavily armored sentries. The security was stricter than usual, and a handful of knights immediately stepped forward, hands resting on their swords as the carriage slowed.

One of the guards, a broad-shouldered man with a sharp gaze, raised a hand. "Halt. Identify yourselves."

Lucius pushed open the carriage door and stepped out, his cloak billowing slightly as he met the guard’s eyes. "The Third Prince of Wyfn-Garde," he said smoothly.

The guards stiffened at once. Whispers passed between them before the lead knight gave a sharp salute. "Your Highness."

A second knight stepped forward, inspecting the carriage closely before glancing at Alaric and Salviana. His eyes flickered with curiosity at Jean, who was still nibbling on a piece of bread.

Lucius arched a brow. "Is there a problem?"

The knight cleared his throat. "No, my lord. Apologies for the delay—protocol, you understand."

Lucius didn’t respond, merely waiting as the gates creaked open with a slow, heavy groan.

Jean leaned out of the carriage, whispering to Salviana, "You’d think they were guarding a dragon in there."

Salviana chuckled softly.

Once fully opened, the guards stepped aside, allowing the carriage through. The moment they crossed the threshold, the atmosphere changed—the air inside the castle walls was calm, eerily so.

Unlike the lively kingdom beyond, the castle grounds were quieter than expected, with only a few scattered attendants bustling about. The grand courtyard stretched before them, polished stone glistening faintly under the soft sunlight.

Alaric took in the stillness. "It’s... quiet."

Lucius’s expression darkened slightly. "Too quiet."

Salviana peered out of the carriage window. "It doesn’t seem like anyone was expecting us."

Jean dusted crumbs off her lap and muttered, "I don’t like this."

The carriage came to a stop, and as they stepped down, an attendant hurried toward them, bowing quickly. "Your Highness, welcome back."

Lucius wasted no time. "Where is everyone?"

The attendant hesitated. "Preparations for the royal union have occupied most of the court. His Majesty is in counsel, and the Queen—"

Before he could finish, a familiar voice interrupted from the top of the grand staircase.

"Well, well. Look who finally decided to return."

Everyone turned to see Prince Benjamin, standing with his arms crossed, his piercing gaze locking onto Lucius.

Jean blinked. "Uh-oh."

Lucius sighed. "Here we go."

As they stepped out of the carriage, Manni took the reins and guided it away, leaving them standing in the grand courtyard. The silence barely lasted a moment before a sharp voice sliced through the air.

"Well, well. Look who finally decided to return," Prince Benjamin drawled, descending the staircase with slow, deliberate steps.

Alaric folded his arms. "Ah, Benjamin. I see you’re still compensating for your lack of charm with unnecessary dramatics."

Benjamin smirked. "And I see you’re still prioritizing personal escapades while the kingdom handles the burden of actual responsibility."

Lucius muttered under his breath, "Here we go."

Before anyone could respond, a second, more grating voice joined in.

"Honestly, it’s disgraceful," Lilian, Benjamin’s wife, sneered as she stepped beside her husband. She looked Salviana up and down with a smirk. "While the kingdom was bidding farewell to a princess, you were off playing house, pretending to be unwell, weren’t you?"

Salviana stiffened.

Jean, ever blunt, scoffed. "Are you implying she wasn’t actually sick? She nearly collapsed."

Lilian rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. The timing is suspicious, don’t you think? Just when things became inconvenient, she suddenly couldn’t lift a finger?"

Lucius’s expression darkened. "Watch your tongue, Lilian."

"Oh, I’d rather not," she said sweetly. "I quite enjoy speaking the truth."

Alaric exhaled sharply. "If you’re done with your pointless accusations, perhaps you’d like to explain why you’re so concerned about our whereabouts. I assume you haven’t come all this way just to throw tantrums."

Benjamin stepped forward, his tone turning colder. "You mean aside from the fact that your cousin was forcibly married off while you were having your little adventure? Or that another cousin of yours was locked away in the dungeons?"

Salviana’s breath hitched, her fingers curling slightly at her sides.

Jean frowned. "What cousin?"

Lilian smirked. "Oh, she doesn’t know? How amusing." She turned to Salviana. "Tell me, dear. How does it feel to be so blissfully ignorant while real matters of state unfold around you?"

Salviana clenched her jaw, but the words hit harder than she wanted to admit.

Alaric stepped forward, eyes narrowing. "Enough, Lilian."

Benjamin raised a brow. "Touched a nerve?"

"More like bored me to death," Alaric said dryly. "If you’re done with your melodrama, we actually have things to do."

Lilian let out a mocking laugh. "Oh, by all means, run along. But don’t be surprised if the rest of the court doesn’t welcome you as warmly as you expect."

"That’s where you’re mistaken, they’ve never received me warmly, never welcomed me," Alaric said.

Benjamin leaned in slightly, his voice dropping. "You’ve been gone too long, cousin. The tides have shifted."

Alaric didn’t flinch. "Then I’ll simply shift them back."

The air between them remained thick with tension, but Salviana, despite her usual strength, felt something tighten in her chest.

She had expected judgment. She had expected whispers.

But she hadn’t expected this much hatred.

"Let’s go my love," alaric whispered

"If I could we’ll leave this castle and never return," Salviana sighed.

"Maybe this journey will help, come," Alaric comforted her.

The tension from the argument still clung to the air as Alaric, Salviana, Jean, Lucius—his umbrella still in hand—Jaefel, and Samion strode forward.

They didn’t look back. There was no need. The weight of judgment followed them regardless.

The castle halls were alive with murmurs. Servants paused mid-task, their eyes darting toward the group as they passed. Nobles and lesser royals whispered behind their hands, exchanging looks laced with curiosity, disapproval, or quiet amusement.

Salviana could feel it—the questions.

She saw them in the slight raise of an eyebrow, the way someone’s lips parted as if about to ask something but thought better of it. She could hear the unspoken words hanging in the air:

Where have they been? What were they doing while the kingdom moved on without them?

Jean, walking beside her, let out a quiet huff. "I hate when people stare like that. Like we owe them an explanation."

Lucius smirked slightly, spinning his umbrella with a lazy flick of his wrist. "It’s the court, dear Jean. A den of people who thrive on gossip more than politics."

Samion muttered under his breath, "They should mind their business before I give them something worth whispering about."

Alaric, however, remained focused. His steps didn’t falter, his expression unreadable. "Let them talk," he said simply. "We have more important things to deal with."

Jaefel, walking a step behind them, nodded in agreement. "The castle’s different since you last left, my Lord. People are careful. Even the guards watch each other."

Salviana frowned. "Something is shifting, isn’t it?"

Lucius’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Oh, no doubt about it."

Still, they didn’t slow. They had a mission—a reason for being here beyond court politics and bitter confrontations.

So, without another glance at the questioning faces around them, they walked on.