"Enjoying yourself, my Fiery one?" he teased.
"Just being thorough," Salviana shot back, biting her lip to suppress a smile.
She adjusted his collar, smoothing the embroidery with careful hands. "There," she said with satisfaction, stepping back to admire him. "Now you're perfect."
"Only because you've made me so," Alaric replied, pulling her into his arms once more.
Salviana leaned into him, her fingers tracing the embroidery on his chest. "You should rest," she said softly. "And let me take care of that headache."
He nodded, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Only if you stay with me," he said, his voice low and tender.
"Always," she promised.
Alaric retrieved the comb, brush, pins, and a small vial of fragrant oil, setting them on the table beside her. His movements were calm and deliberate, his sharp eyes scanning her hair as though planning his approach.