Married To Darkness-Chapter 418: Flirting With Jean

Lucius made a sound like a muffled snarl as he took Jean’s hand out of the hosts.

Alaric was biting his lip to hide his smile. "You’re terrifying."

"I know," Embrez replied lightly. Then, to the rest of the group: "Come. You must be tired and half-starved. The cooks have prepared a feast. Baths are being drawn. My maids will show you to your chambers."

Prince Embrez Velthorne clapped his hands together dramatically, his silvery cloak billowing with the motion.

"Lady Ruth," he called to the nearest maid, a tall, stern-looking woman with ice-blonde hair in a coiled bun. "Give them all the finest rooms in the east wing. Velvet sheets, perfumed pillows, and gold tubs. But..." He pointed a jeweled finger with a sly grin, eyes landing on Jean. "Except Jean. She stays near me. I must know if she snores."

Jean choked on her breath. "What?"

Embrez raised both brows with smug delight. "What? I’m only curious. She has the face of a porcelain doll. Perhaps she hums lullabies in her sleep."

Lucius moved so quickly it was like a shadow had shifted.

He stepped forward, boots thudding firmly as he placed himself between Embrez and Jean. His arm curled protectively around her waist, tugging her slightly behind him.

"She stays with me," Lucius said, voice like steel wrapped in ice.

The jovial air drained from Embrez’s face.

The smile still tugged at his mouth—but his eyes no longer laughed. "Who are you to make demands in my home?" he asked, voice soft, dangerous.

Alaric exhaled slowly, dread curling in his stomach. This was what he had feared. Embrez’s fascination with Jean, Lucius’s possessiveness—it was a volatile mix.

"Don’t," Alaric muttered under his breath, watching Lucius’s jaw tighten. "Not here..."

Jean, eyes wide with disbelief, stepped out from behind Lucius before the tension exploded.

"I am not your property," she snapped, voice clear, ringing with sudden authority. "Neither of you." She looked from Embrez to Lucius. "I’ll stay in my own room, thank you. I’m not some doll you can fight over like children."

Embrez blinked, clearly startled—but then he laughed, loud and unbothered. "I like her. Fire. A little burn makes the wine taste sweeter."

Lucius, however, did not laugh.

His jaw ticked, his hand curling into a fist at his side as he watched Embrez like a lion watches a rival predator.

"I say again Alaric..." he said, voice hushed. "You brought me a wife."

Jean blinked. "I—what?"

Salviana turned slowly, confused. Emma gasped softly. Jaefel coughed to cover a chuckle.

Lucius’s face twisted. "She is not—"

But Embrez waved his hand, his silk-cloaked steps as smooth as a cat’s.

He approached Jean with reverence, like she was a relic of beauty unearthed in battle. "You’re the most radiant thing I’ve seen in a decade," he said earnestly. "And I’ve been to the Moon Court."

Jean’s eyes widened in panic. "I—I’m just her lady-in-waiting—"

"And I’m just a humble prince in a glowing palace of wealth and splendor," Embrez said with a wink.

He gently smiled. "You have kindness in your face and fire in your spine. Are you taken, my lady?"

Jean flushed crimson. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.

Lucius stepped forward. "She is not—interested," he snapped, placing himself just slightly between them.

Jean blinked again.

Embrez looked between them and smiled slowly, like he’d caught onto something delicious. "Oho. Noted."

Alaric clapped him on the back. "Stop tormenting Lucius."

"I’m not tormenting. I’m admiring. It’s different."

Embrez turned to the rest of the group and clapped his hands. "Baths are ready, dinner is almost served, and all of you will stay in the east wing. Except for Jean, of course. She’s staying closer to me." He turned to a maid. "Lady Melca, see to it personally. Give her the rose room."

Jean was still blushing furiously. "No, really, I can stay with Salviana—"

"You could," Embrez said, "but you won’t. Come now. A little sparkle will suit you."

"Please excuse me," Jean said.

When Jean walked away, refusing to look at either of them Salviana followed her, he turned toward Alaric.

"You said this was safe," Lucius growled. "You said we were guests."

"And we are," Alaric replied calmly. "But he’s the host. Let him be ridiculous—it’s his house. Don’t cause a scene."

Lucius’s eyes glinted red, fangs threatening to descend. "Then the host should treat good guests with utmost respect," he said, almost spitting the words. "Not covet what belongs to another."

"She doesn’t belong to you either," Alaric said quietly. "Have you told her what she means to you?"

Lucius’s gaze faltered.

"Then don’t be angry when someone else does," Alaric said, walking past him. "You want her? Say it. Before someone like Embrez takes her away laughing."

Lucius stood there, storming inwardly, watching Jean disappear up the staircase with one of the mansion maids.

Embrez winked at him on the way out. "Sleep tight, creature of the dark. Try not to dream of her."

Lucius’s hands clenched tighter.

This would be a long night.

"Does he know what I am?" Lucius asked urgently, whats did he mean creature of the dark?

"We have never talked about you, but he’s formidable." Alaric said

Lucius narrowed his eyes and sighed.

This might be a long stressful stay.

Later, in the halls of velvet...

They were led through softly glowing corridors lined with velvet drapes and crystal lanterns. Every room they passed looked fit for royalty—beds with canopies made of starlight, mirrors that whispered affirmations, windows that shifted to show calming oceans.

Salviana was nearly speechless when she saw the chamber she and Alaric were given. A room carved in warm gold and obsidian, with a bath the size of a lake and a ceiling that shimmered like dawn.

For the first time in days, she unclenched.

And Alaric, behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her neck.

"I told you I wouldn’t bring you somewhere dangerous," he whispered. "Just... try to enjoy this."

Meanwhile, in the corridor across, Jean stood awkwardly outside her assigned room, clearly too shy to go in.

Lucius lingered in the hall, arms crossed.

"You don’t have to entertain him," he said softly.

Jean looked at him, startled. "Why not?"

"Because I don’t understand him," Lucius muttered. "He probably flirts with everything that breathes."

Jean blinked. "So? Maybe I want to be flirted with."

He looked at her then, sharply.

And Jean immediately regretted saying it. "I mean—I didn’t mean—just that... it’s harmless. Right?"

Lucius’s jaw tensed. "Maybe."

Then, before she could reply, he turned and walked off.

Jean stood there for a long moment before finally stepping into the rose-colored room and shutting the door behind her.

Inside, Embrez was already ordering rose tea and a harpist for the hallway.

As the rest were all led to their rooms...

The castle interior stretched on like a spell with no end. Every wall shimmered with candlelight, paintings moved subtly in their frames, and the air pulsed with something old and gentle.

Decade of whispers lived here, but none of them malicious.

As Salviana entered the chamber she and Alaric were given—a room carved in onyx and gold, with a ceiling that twinkled like a night sky—she finally exhaled.

"This place is... feels safe," she murmured.

Alaric wrapped his arms around her from behind, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

"For now," he said. "And for once in a while, I think we can breathe."

In another corridor, Jean sat stunned on a velvet chaise as three maids unpacked her things and a fourth spritzed something floral in the air.

Lucius passed the doorway, glaring at the open door.

And somewhere behind it all, Embrez Velthorne spun dramatically into his wardrobe chamber, throwing open his closet with glee.

"A possible wedding. A feast. A lady to flirt with. Finally... entertainment."