'He was a lady's man?'
'Famous amongst girls?'
'A killer?'
Salviana felt unsettled, each revelation about her husband from Priscilla lingering in her mind like shadows that refused to fade. She tried to brush away the discomfort, but it clung to her thoughts, filling her with an uneasy curiosity.
The maids had returned from the marketplace, their laughter echoing faintly down the halls as they busied themselves with their chores. Salviana stood up, glancing around her room, feeling more a stranger in her own quarters than ever before. She needed answers.
Determined, she reached for the bedside table and noticed a pen and paper—likely left by Alaric for her use. A small, unexpected gesture. She carefully folded the paper and tucked it into the pocket of her gown, then swept out of her room.
Upon reaching the foot of the stairs, she found Emma busily attending to some linens. The maid looked up with a start, offering a respectful bow. "My lady, where might you be off to?"
