The dim light of the lamp flickered, casting the dark shadow of the General onto the wall.
Daphne's hand, still clutching the hilt of her dagger, froze.
"Your highness? What are you doing here?" she demanded.
She slowly lowered her dagger. The silk nightdress felt flimsy and exposed.
Alaric stepped out of the shadows, his presence filling the chamber.
He was dressed in black, a stark contrast to the light. His eyes, two dark pools in the low light, were fixed on her.
"Forgive my intrusion," he said, his voice calm, "but there are some things we couldn't discuss in front of your family."
He gestured toward the table with the lit lamp. "Do you mind?"
Daphne hesitated for a moment, then, with a sharp snap of her wrist, she flicked the dagger back into its sheath and placed it on the table.
She walked over to the fireplace and lit two more lamps, the sudden brightness banishing the shadows.
Now she could see him clearly.
Alaric's gaze moved over her. He took in her figure in the nightdress, his eyes lingering for a moment on her bare shoulders and the graceful curve of her neck.
His expression remained unreadable, but the intensity of his look was a silent acknowledgement of her beauty.
"You could have sent a message," she said, crossing her arms. "I'm sure you have a dozen ways to do so without… appearing in my bedroom."
Alaric replied in a chilling tone. "I don't believe I need anyone's permission to see my future wife."
Daphne's mind went blank.
The words, so casually spoken, were a sledgehammer to her carefully constructed composure.
She could only stare at him, her arms falling to her sides, her mouth slightly agape, that for a moment, she couldn't breathe.
"My message is here," he continued, as if he hadn't just dropped a bombshell that shattered her world.
He held out a small, intricately carved wooden box, with a paper that has numbers written on it. "This contains a coded communication device. You will use it to contact me. This is the encryption code. No one else but a knight I'll assign to you must know of its existence."
Daphne's gaze dropped to the box, then back to his face. "This is what you came here for? A device you could have left with Aidan?"
"Aidan is not you," Alaric said, his words simple but full of meaning. "And no. I came for more than that. The details of the harem are more complicated than I could describe at your family dinner. I needed to see for myself that you were prepared."
He looked her up and down again. "You are a woman of immense strength and talent," he continued, his voice softer now.
"But the Empress is not to be underestimated. She controls the harem with an iron fist. You will have to be perfect, both in your poise and your ability to gather information. My people can give you reports, but you will be the eyes and ears on the inside."
Daphne nodded, understanding the gravity of his words. "I will be," she said.
Alaric reached into his coat and produced a small, leather-bound notebook.
"This contains the names of my contacts. They will appear as servant and even guards. You are to memorize them and their specific roles. You must also commit these to memory," he said, handing her some other scrolls.
"These contain descriptions of the various herbal remedies being used on the concubines. It is a starting point for your research."
Daphne took the items from him, their hands brushing for a moment.
The contact sent a jolt through her that she quickly suppressed.
As she held the items, her mind raced.
The sheer efficiency and power of his network were breathtaking.
"I understand," she said, her voice firm. "Thank you, Your Highness."
"Alaric. Call me Alaric."
He looked at her, a glimmer of something in his eyes that she couldn't decipher. "And make sure no other man sees you like this, not even that guard of yours".
With that, he turned, disappearing into the same shadow from which he had emerged.
Daphne stood in the middle of her room, the box and the scrolls heavy in her hands.
She replayed his last words in her mind.
"Not even that guard of yours."
The command was possessive, a stark violation of her autonomy, and it should have angered her. Instead, a strange, dizzying sensation of satisfaction filled her.
It was a secret, forbidden thrill.
His jealousy, though brief and chilling, was a confirmation.
It meant he saw her as a woman he felt a primal claim over.
It was a terrifying thought, but she couldn't deny that a part of her liked it.
It confirmed his hidden feelings for her, feelings he had never shown openly, not this life, not even her past life.
For the first time, she felt a glimmer of hope that the powerful man might truly belong to her in this life after all.
She had a week to prepare for a war she had already lost once. And this time, she had a General who was more formidable than anyone else, even the Emperor.