Darkest Thoughts

"My wife…"

Emma's brows lifted just slightly. "The princess? What about her?"

His fingers twitched. "I can't find her."

A pause. Then, in that steady, almost knowing way of hers, Emma hummed thoughtfully.

"Maybe she is still on her way to you."

He smiled. Poetry.

Emma bowed and left.

Alaric barely registered Emma's words at first, his mind still a storm of uncertainty. But then, like a candle flickering in the dark, the meaning settled in.

"Maybe she was still on her way to you."

His head snapped toward the chambermaid, his sharp gaze locking onto her calm expression.

The walk.

The distance between the grand hall and their chambers was considerable—too far for someone to arrive so quickly unless they took the royal carriage. But Salviana…

She had wanted fresh air.

If she had chosen to walk, then—

His stomach twisted.

"I was too hasty."