The Frantic Search

Jean blinked, then darted a glance toward Lucius, as if hoping for help. When none came, she swallowed.

"I—I believe she just stepped out for some air, Your Highness," she said quickly. "She didn't wish to disturb your evening."

Alaric's lips curled into something dangerously close to a snarl.

"She should know better than to disappear on me."

Lucius smirked, leaning back in his chair as he studied Alaric's reaction with thinly veiled amusement.

"Careful, Alaric. You sound like an obsessive husband," he mused.

Alaric ignored him. His entire focus had already shifted elsewhere.

His fingers twitched, his instincts screaming.

If Salviana wasn't in the banquet hall, where had she gone? And why did his gut tell him something wasn't right?

With a sharp breath, Alaric turned on his heel and strode out of the hall, not bothering to excuse himself.

If Salviana was in danger, nothing else mattered.