Chapter 57: Silent Warnings

Chapter 57: Silent Warnings’W... What? Was he joking, or was he serious?’ Knowing Zavren, he was serious. She didn’t understand why her heart was aching. She had wanted to ride with him—was he giving her some kind of warning not to try what she did this morning again? "Let me guide you in," Zavren spoke quietly, and Ariana nodded, not realizing how the earlier calmness on her face was fading, almost into disappointment. Zavren’s eyes glinted. "My wife," he said calmly, "tell me, do you agree with the arrangement?" His words trailed off as she curtsied at him gently and slowly toward the carriage door, which had been opened by a man with his head bowed low. Ariana moved and stepped into the carriage. Zavren’s eyes widened slightly. Did she agree to it? But to his surprise, she sat down and lightly tapped the seat beside her. Zavren’s quiet chuckle broke through the silence. The maids lining the opposite side lowered their heads more carefully, as if afraid to risk raising them—their eyes were in shock. W... was His Highness laughing? Shock was written on many faces. Zavren could not believe his wife. And here he had thought she was perfectly fine riding in separate carriages. This woman was truly unpredictable. He walked forward. "Send the other carriage away," he waved his hand dismissively. "As you wish, Your Majesty," the man bowed and gently closed the carriage door. Zavren sat beside Ariana, who was gazing quietly through the window. "Is something bothering you, Snowflake?" Zavren’s deep voice filled the space. Ariana shook her head, but then she felt something light settle on her lap. Her eyes turned to Zavren in surprise, then back at the object—it was a small, handy book and a pen. She hadn’t expected this. In fact, it hadn’t even crossed her mind. "I realized a king and a queen might need a little discussion during our mini-travel. Don’t you think, Queen Aria?" he said smoothly. Ariana nodded, her smile widening. Zavren remained still, his eyes fixed on the dimples that had formed on her cheeks. He watched silently as she opened the book and began to write, the carriage moving swiftly beneath them. After scribbling for a moment, Ariana raised the book for him to see. Very true, King Zavren, she had written. Zavren’s brow arched slightly. "King Zavren?" he asked with a small grin. Ariana nodded, her smile lingering, her heart stuttering. The way his name rolled off her tongue made her heart skip with an unspoken emotion she couldn’t yet name. Ariana moved her pen swiftly, but her fingers gradually slowed, hesitating—unsure whether she should write what was on her mind. Quietly, she lifted the book for him to see. Just as she feared, his eyes dimmed. The moment her gaze met his, her breath caught in shock. The grey darkened—the gleam in his eyes had faded into something cold. That sudden deadness terrified her, and she immediately pulled the book back. "I have no family, Aria... And Zekel—you’ve met him already, haven’t you?" Zavren asked, the dimness vanishing as if it had never been there. Ariana blinked in surprise and nodded. "That reminds me," he said slowly, his voice taking on a colder tone, "a little report came to my notice... After it was made very clear that no one is allowed near the forbidden door, a certain someone still decided to try her luck... which, I’m guessing, ran out." Ariana’s face paled as realization struck. She had just unknowingly reminded him of that incident. To her surprise, his warm hand moved to her neck, tinting it in place. Her body jolted slightly in shock as he gently wrapped his fingers around the back, his large hand covering it. "Your neck is slender," he murmured, his voice darkening. The weight of his gaze on her skin sent a chill down her spine. "A sword slicing through it would be the best feeling..." he paused, then added with a wicked gleam in his eyes, "Not to mention my hands... just imagine the soft, satisfying crack of bones." Ariana’s heart began to thud violently. He wasn’t joking. Not even a little. "So if you want to keep this slender, pretty neck of yours," his voice dropped lower, dead serious as his thumb caressed it slowly before pulling away, "do not ever go near that door again." Ariana quickly nodded, fear tightening her chest. And just like that, the suffocating atmosphere dissolved into calmness. She couldn’t believe how this man—this king—was able to control the very air around them. Yet her mind remained on one haunting question... What was behind that door that could make Zavren threaten her so coldly—without even a hint of teasing? She pursed her lips as she gently closed the book. Zavren’s gaze remained fixed on her. Then, in a deep, calm tone, he spoke, "Go on, Aria. Don’t tell me that’s all the questions you have—I know there are more." Back to acting normal again like he had not just... He was right. There were more. But how did he expect her to ask another after the threat he had just given her? This man was truly something else. "Go on," he urged again, softer this time. Ariana looked at him, hesitated, then slowly opened the book once more. My voice... do you ever feel bothered by it? Like it would have been better if I did have one? Her hand moved slowly as she wrote, and when she finished, she hesitated to show him. Zavren waited patiently, noticing her reluctance. "You don’t have to worry," he said gently. "You can ask me anything. Let me see the book." Ariana’s heart thudded in her chest as she turned the book to him. Zavren read quietly. Ariana looked away, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her gown. Then he moved, his hand lifting her chin so her eyes met his. "Why would I feel it’s a barrier?" he asked Inna low clear tone. "You’ve just told me your thoughts, and I responded. So what’s the difference if someone says it aloud? Don’t think that way about yourself. And knowing there’s a reason behind it... we could find that, if you want. Voice or no voice—you are still you." Ariana’s pupils dilated. She hadn’t expected that. In fact, it was the last thing she ever thought she’d hear from her cold-hearted husband. She nodded slightly and lowered her gaze. There was a pause. "We’re already in the carriage," he said after a pause. "I’m guessing you wore the hat because of the sun. How about removing it? It might be more comfortable." He had noticed. Not only that—she had been adjusting how she sat so she wouldn’t crush the hat. Her heart warmed uncontrollably at his words. Ariana’s cheeks flushed as she slowly removed it. Zavren took it from her gently, placing it carefully in the corner of the carriage so it wouldn’t fall. He turned back to her, his expression calm, while Ariana shifted her gaze to the carriage window. They were passing a secluded path surrounded by trees, their green leaves whispering in the wind. "I’m guessing this is your first time wearing a hat," he said quietly. To his surprise, a soft smile graced her lips as she turned to him. Ariana picked up her pen and began to write, the smile still lingering. Zavren, unable—as usual—to wait patiently, leaned in to read even as she was still writing. "I have worn a hat before, but it was when my sister, my mother, and I playfully acted out dramas—mimicking the royals. The hat was worn out, almost torn, but my mother refused to discard it. She always said her mother’s mother’s mother’s ancestor mother was given the hat by a royal as a gift for saving a royal child." Ariana raised her hand as if to count something, her smile widening. "The hat was passed down through generations. The mother gives it to her daughter. It had been in the family lineage of women for a very long time. By the time it reached my mother..." Her eyes sparkled. Her smile widened until her perfect, cute teeth came into view. Zavren stiffened, not expecting the memory to bring her such visible joy. "You should have seen the hat, Zavren. It looked like it had been dipped thoroughly in mud. And the funniest part is—my mum said that when it was gifted, the hat was white! I believe my mother, her mother, and her mother’s mother all thought that washing it would take away the gratitude of the royal who gifted it. So despite how filthy it looked, no one ever dared to wash it." Zavren couldn’t help but notice the way his lips lifted faintly as he read. "Where is the hat now?" he asked quietly. Ariana’s smile faltered slightly. She smiled again, this time a little weaker, and wrote: "Mother wanted to give it to me, but Father said it wouldn’t be fair—that my sister might feel there was favoritism in the household. So right now, it’s still at our cottage." Zavren’s eyes paused on the word ’cottage’ Ariana began writing again. "Mother said the hat held lots and lots of significance." Zavren nodded to himself. Now he understood why she had refused to lean back against the carriage seat—she had wanted to protect the new hat, perhaps holding it with the same reverence. "About the royal," he asked expression neutral, "was anything else said?" Ariana nodded and wrote: "Back then, people believed royals were full of pride and obsessed with material things. But when my ancestor mother saved the boy and was gifted the hat in return, it changed how they saw the royal family. It made them believe royals could be grateful too." She smiled again, clearly enjoying telling him the story. But Zavren’s eyes had stopped on one word. Ariana turned her head, suddenly noticing that Zavren had gone quiet—his body unmoving, eyes blank, lost in thought. W... Was something wrong? Had she written something inappropriate? There was a long, stretching silence. Ariana blinked, then lightly tapped him. His head turned slightly as she shyly wrote before lifting the book, her cheeks now flushed pink. Zavren... I want to pee.