But Alaric wasn't convinced. His brow furrowed as he studied Salviana. "What just happened?" he asked, his tone low and probing. "You screamed as if—"
"I told you, it's nothing," Salviana replied, avoiding his gaze.
"You screamed in agony," he pressed, his hand instinctively reaching for her arm. "I didn't pull you that hard, did I?"
Salviana sighed, her lips tightening into a faint smile meant to dismiss his concern. "No, Alaric. It's not you." She rubbed her shoulder absentmindedly. "It's from the night I was poisoned… I hit my arm when I fell."
His jaw clenched at the memory of that night. "You injured yourself and didn't tell me?" His voice softened, but his eyes remained sharp. "How bad is it?"
"It's nothing serious," she said, waving a hand as if to brush it aside. "When I collapsed, I think I hit my arm on the edge of the bedside table. I didn't even think about it after."