"Oh," she breathed, eyes wide. "They're everywhere."
Their guard, Simon, appeared from the shadows with the quiet efficiency of a man used to his lord's whims. Seeing their fascination, he bowed slightly and said, "Shall I fetch a jar, my lord?"
Alaric smirked. "Do it."
Within moments, Simon returned with a glass bottle, and Alaric pressed it into Salviana's hands. "Here," he said softly, his gaze never leaving her. "Catch them as you can."
Her eyes sparkled. "Your belief in me is almost scary," She lifted the jar cautiously, waiting until one of the fireflies hovered close. With careful hands, she cupped it into the bottle.
The moment the tiny creature slipped inside, its glow lit her face, painting her features in soft, ethereal light.
Alaric's breath caught. Divine. That was the only word for her. Even dressed in mortal silks, even barefoot in the grass, she was more radiant than any goddess sung about in ballads.
