Silent Crown: The Masked Prince's Bride-Chapter 286: A Quiet Night

Emma smiled faintly, her fingers tracing the lines of his hand before lifting it to her lips. "You’re going to work again tomorrow, aren’t you?" she asked softly. "At the forge."

He nodded, and she sighed, pressing another kiss into his palm. "You don’t deserve to spend your days under that heat, Elias."

His brows knit slightly. "Emma, you were counting every coin just hours ago," he said, half-amused.

"I know," she whispered. "But I have to tell you something." Her fingers tightened around his. "I have enough gold to buy us a two-storey house with a garden, and to keep you from ever working another day in your life."

Elias blinked, utterly stunned. The candlelight caught the disbelief in his eyes, glinting like molten gold.

She smiled at his expression. "Why are you so surprised? I worked for the Princess. She knew this might happen. Of course, she made sure I’d be safe and settled, in case I needed to survive on my own."

Elias let out a soft laugh, shaking his head in quiet awe. "I’ve never known mistresses as generous as yours," he said. "But I suppose your Princess truly was different."

Emma nodded, pride softening her features. "I’m just being careful," she said. "If I start spending now, people will notice. We’re supposed to be poor folk from the countryside. The Emperor’s men are still searching for us. If we spend the Princess’s gold, they’ll trace it back to us."

Her thumb brushed along his jaw, gentle, deliberate. "You’ve held a sword all your life," she murmured. "I don’t like seeing you wielding a hammer. Promise me you won’t push yourself too hard?"

He might do anything to ensure he supported her. But she didn’t want him to work too hard. There was no need for it, anyway.

He smiled and kissed her, slowly, lingering on her lips, as if sealing an unspoken vow.

He truly had found a treasure in his wife. How many men could boast of a woman who told them not to work hard, and who had already saved enough for a lifetime before her twentieth year?

"I love you, Elias," she whispered, eyes fluttering shut as the last candle flickered out.

"I love you too," he murmured into the dark. And for the first time in years, the night felt whole.

Hugging her close to his chest, with her curling into his embrace like a gentle little bird, he felt full, secure and loved. This was his wife. His support. His love.

He knew he could rest well but at the same time, he needed to be alert, to protect her.

-----

Aldric ducked through the low archway of their little home beneath the tunnels, brushing the dust from his shoulders. The warm, earthy, and touched with herbs scent of broth greeted him first. Inside, Sylvia sat on the bedroll, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, her once-pale cheeks now tinged with faint color. Aralyn sat beside her, both women sharing the same bowl of soup and laughter that sounded too light for the underground gloom.

Aldric stopped by the doorway and smiled—soft, genuine. He hadn’t expected those two to get along. But watching Sylvia smile at something Aralyn said filled his chest with a strange, full warmth.

When Sylvia saw him, her smile deepened; Aralyn, however, rolled her eyes fondly, muttering, "I’ll leave you yougones before you spoil the air with your sweet nonsense," and went to her corner bed.

Aldric chuckled and crossed the room. "You’re walking now," he said, setting his sword aside.

"Barely," Sylvia replied, her tone teasing but weary. "It hurts when I move too much."

"Then don’t move." He knelt beside her, his hands careful, reverent. "Let me help you."

She gave him a look that was half suspicion, half amusement. "You just like excuses to touch me."

He grinned, unashamed. "And you say that like it’s a sin."

Her laughter came quiet but bright, echoing off the stone walls. When she lifted her arm, the fabric of her sleeve fell, revealing her shoulder. She opened the robe further, revealing her bandage around the abdomen. Aldric’s smile faded a little. He worked in silence, unwrapping the old cloth and cleaning the wound with water from the basin. His touch was slow, almost sacred, his thumb brushing her skin just once too long to be purely practical.

"You’re healing well," he murmured.

"You make a terrible nurse," she teased, her voice low, eyes glinting.

"And yet you’re still alive," he said, meeting her gaze with a smirk. "So I must be doing something right."

She leaned toward him, close enough that her breath mingled with his. "Perhaps."

He wrapped a fresh cloth around her abdomen and tied it off. The closeness lingered, unspoken but steady, the air between them thick with something softer than passion and deeper than comfort. He rested his cheek on her bare chest, just for some time. It was soothing to hear her breathe and the sound of her heartbeat. He had almost lost her.

Sylvia understood what he was thinking. She too didn’t want to leave him so early, just when they got married. His hair tickled her chest and she relished that sensation. She hugged him and kissed his head. They stayed like that, in each other’s warmth for some time.

When she shifted, he steadied her easily, his arm slipping around her waist to help her lie down.

"Stay," she whispered, her fingers catching his sleeve.

"I wasn’t planning to leave," he murmured back. He lay beside her, the two of them fitting together as if they had been carved for it.

For a while, neither spoke. The faint light of a single candle flickered against the walls, casting warmth over their faces. Sylvia rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

"You always smell like iron," she murmured sleepily. "You don’t smell like ink anymore."

"And you always complain about it," he said, smiling.

"Maybe I like it," she whispered, her voice fading. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

Aldric looked down at her, brushing a strand of hair from her cheek. "Then I’ll never wash it off."

Her laughter was the last sound before silence fell, gentle, complete. And in that silence, beneath the hum of distant water and the heartbeat beneath her ear, trust took root, quiet and unbreakable.