Married To Darkness - Chapter 495
Chapter 495: How is your beast
“Careful,” Salviana murmured, her tone cool as steel. “Your tongue might cost you more than you realize. I will not stoop to your level with respect, when you are full of disrespect”
Eva chuckled softly. “Oh, I never speak without intention. And certainly never where it doesn’t sting.”
Her smirk deepened, head tilting just slightly. “Though… it is sweet to see such color in your cheeks. The Third Prince must keep you very entertained, or dare I say…never entertained?!”
Gasps fluttered around the table.
Florence’s eyes widened; Beatrice nearly choked on her tea; Irene’s smirk broadened into something wicked.
Jean, sitting beside Salviana, went rigid, her jaw tight.
“Eva,” Princess Lilian’s tone finally broke through, measured and authoritative. “Enough.”
Eva turned her gaze toward the Crown Princess with a slow, deliberate smile. “I meant no offense, Your Highness. Surely we’re just talking as women. We were all quite open about such things a moment ago.”
Lilian’s expression didn’t change. “There’s a difference between conversation and provocation.”
“But what if provocation reveals truth?” Eva countered, her eyes never leaving Salviana’s.
Salviana rose fully now, her chair sliding back with a muted scrape that silenced even the whispers.
“You mistake my silence for weakness,” she said quietly, the air thick with poise and quiet wrath. “But where I come from, silence means I’ve already decided whether to forgive or destroy, today I am in a benevolent mood, pushing the wrong buttons will not get you entertained—beheaded probably.”
The hall stilled. Even the maids had stopped moving.
Eva’s breath caught — just a fraction — before her smirk returned, brittle around the edges. “Such drama,” she whispered, her voice barely carrying.
Salviana smiled, soft and regal again, as though nothing had happened. she wondered where the girls audacity stems from, “I believe to be lovely today, it suits me.”
She sat back down gracefully, folding her hands atop her lap. “Now, if you’re quite done, perhaps we can return to our tea before it grows cold.”
The silence that followed was absolute—then Beatrice, trying to dissolve the weight, gave a nervous laugh. “Well… I must say, the royal household never lacks entertainment.”
Florence chuckled weakly. “Or courage.”
Jolene whispered, “Or madness,” earning herself a swift pinch from Irene, but by then everyone had already begun breathing again.
Eva reached for her cup with a shaky hand masked as elegance. “I do apologize,” she said sweetly, “perhaps I was too forward.”
Salviana didn’t look at her — only smiled faintly, eyes on her tea. “Certainly.”
And just like that, the duel was done.
But beneath the flutter of fans and the rustle of silk, the atmosphere never quite returned to calm. The princesses exchanged quiet looks; a few admired Salviana’s restraint, others burned with envy.
Eva sipped her tea and said nothing more—though her hand trembled ever so slightly, the kind of tremble that came not from fear, but from losing a battle she had expected to win. She wondered if the rumors was true and the third prince actually loves his wife, that man was incapable of feeling she thought, how could he love this girl? If not witchcraft!
Jean leaned closer to her lady, whispering softly, “You shouldn’t have to deal with such venom, my princess.”
Salviana exhaled slowly, her smile serene but her tone edged. “Let them try. I’ve been through worse storms than silk and perfume.”
At that, Jean smiled faintly; proud, protective, and reassured.
Florence finally lifted her cup again, eager to ease the tension. “Now,” she said, “can we talk of something sweeter? Perhaps the baby names I’ve been considering?”
Relief flooded the room. Laughter returned in fragile pieces.
But Salviana felt Eva’s eyes again—only once—before the woman looked away at last.
And though Salviana smiled with the others, her mind whispered silently to itself: The next time she crosses me, she won’t get a warning.
The laughter had softened into the clinking of porcelain and the perfume of over-steeped teas. The air was thick with a sweetness that wasn’t from sugar—it was the heavy, unspoken kind that came before someone decided to stir trouble.
Salviana sat gracefully, her gloved fingers tracing the rim of her teacup as she pretended to admire the embroidery on the tablecloth. She was content to stay quiet—content, at least, until the next arrow found her.
“But Salviana,” came Princess Jennifer’s voice, feigned casual, sharp underneath, “you should really tell us how it is intimately for you. You’re married to a beast yourself—”
“Like the girl in the story!” Jolene squealed, eyes wide with delighted mischief.
The chatter broke into giggles. Even the maids tried to hide their smirks behind silver trays.
Salviana froze, her heartbeat thudding faintly beneath the lace of her gown. Her lashes lifted slowly, her gaze serene and dangerous at once.
“Yes!” Jennifer pressed on, emboldened. “The Third Prince is a rumored beast, a demon, after all. You must tell us—what’s it like? Does he snarl in his sleep? Does he—oh, forgive me—bite? How deadly does he pleasure you”
A ripple of scandalous laughter.
Even Eva smiled into her cup, pretending disinterest but clearly enjoying the discomfort flickering across Salviana’s features.
Florence shifted awkwardly beside her, placing a protective hand on her round belly. “Jennifer, please, that’s not a decent question.”
But the princesses were too entertained to listen.
Salviana’s hand stilled. She lifted her gaze, calm, regal, a small smile curving her lips like the unsheathing of a blade.
“I do not wish to share such intimate moments with the group,” she said simply. Her tone was even, but her eyes—those pale, unblinking eyes—made the laughter falter for half a breath.
“Of course, of course,” Irene crooned mockingly. “You must be quite shy. Or perhaps,” she added with a sly tilt of her head, “there isn’t much to share?”
Gasps, snickers. A few nervous glances.
Eva leaned forward slightly, her perfume trailing through the air, her voice a velvet dagger. “Oh, but shyness has its charm. I daresay her husband appreciates it.”
That drew a full chorus of giggles.
Florence frowned, and before she could speak, Jean—who had been quietly standing behind Salviana all this while—finally stepped forward. Her voice, though calm, held the firmness of a drawn sword.
“My lady,” she addressed Salviana, but her gaze swept coldly across the room, “that is not a topic you should discuss with the public. It is common etiquette.”
The air dropped still.
Jennifer blinked, feigning innocence. “Oh, Lady Goliath, we were only jesting.”
“Then perhaps jest with decency,” Jean said evenly.
Eva arched a brow, feigning amusement. “You must be very protective of your mistress, Lady Goliath.”
Jean’s eyes didn’t waver. “It is my duty to ensure she is treated with the respect due her title.”
Lilian, ever the peacemaker, laughed softly and lifted her cup. “Oh dear, you’re all taking this too seriously. It was harmless conversation. Let’s not let our tea turn bitter.”
But Salviana could feel the sting behind those smiles, the heat of their stares, the curiosity burning to know what kind of marriage she truly had.
She breathed slowly, then smiled—softly, gracefully, dangerously.
“I see why such tales are fascinating,” she said, breaking the silence. “Women who fall in love with beasts—it sounds tragic, doesn’t it? But perhaps what most people forget is that sometimes, the beast is not the demon in the story.”
The table went quiet.
“What do you mean?” Jolene asked, frowning slightly.
Salviana set down her cup. The soft clink rang like the punctuation of something final.
“I mean,” she said with a faint smile, “sometimes the beast is hidden where we least expect it. And sometimes… he wears a dress, puts on make- up and sips tea while spouting nonsense.”
A hush fell. Eyes darted toward one another, uncertain, intrigued, maybe even a little afraid.
Jennifer gave a nervous laugh. “Oh my, what a dark thought, Seventh Princess.”
“Perhaps,” Salviana replied, lifting her tea again, “but truthful nonetheless. It is how dark your curiosity had taken you”