Destroy My Life In You-Chapter 99: Happy Days

It had been a few days since Astrid and her brothers had moved into the palace, and everything had been going smoothly. To her surprise, even Luke—who had been openly hostile toward Alaric—seemed to have softened his stance. Astrid dared not to ask why, but the shift was noticeable. She silently appreciated the newfound peace, finding comfort in the fact that the tensions that had once seemed so overwhelming were slowly dissipating.

Life in the palace was far different from what she had imagined. She had assumed royalty meant rigid rules, suffocating traditions, and a dull, monotonous existence. But to her surprise, the atmosphere was lively and warm. The people were friendlier than she had expected. Their smiles were genuine, their hospitality unwavering. The servants, once viewed with suspicion and distance, greeted her as though they had known her forever. There was no pretentiousness here, no cold formality, only a welcoming atmosphere that put her at ease.

Among the people of the palace, Alaric’s brothers stood out the most. Finn, the more talkative of the two, had a natural charisma that made him easily likable. His humor was infectious, and it was impossible to stay upset or annoyed for long in his presence. He would often regale them with exaggerated tales of his travels, keeping everyone entertained with his jokes and playful banter. His energy was contagious, and even Luke, who had been standoffish with the entire family, found himself loosening up around him.

Zander, on the other hand, was more reserved. He didn’t speak much, but when he did, his words carried weight. He wasn’t as outwardly expressive as Finn, but Astrid could tell he was kind in his own way. There was a depth to him that, while quiet, was no less compelling. Overall, she had no complaints, and for the first time in what felt like a long time, she began to feel that she could settle into this life.

At the moment, Astrid was in the palace garden, her favorite place, watering the delicate rows of jasmine flowers. She hummed an unfamiliar tune as she worked, the soft rhythm of her movements blending with the gentle breeze that rustled the leaves. The air was filled with the sweet, calming scent of the flowers, their blossoms heavy with fragrance. The garden was quiet, with fewer people wandering through, making it the perfect place for moments of solitude.

Every now and then, a few ladies would pass by, offering their greetings, followed by soft giggles. Astrid simply smiled, already accustomed to their behavior. She didn’t mind the whispers, the gossip that seemed to follow her everywhere. It was natural, she supposed, for people to talk. In the end, it didn’t bother her.

As she finished watering one row of flowers, Astrid prepared to move to the next. But then, something familiar struck her senses, Alaric’s scent. Even in the midst of the garden’s sweet fragrance, his presence was unmistakable. She paused, instinctively looking around, but he was nowhere to be seen. Yet, the scent lingered, strong and near.

Then, just as if reading her thoughts, his deep voice resonated through the air.

"Looking for me?"

Astrid’s gaze darted upward. There, perched on the edge of a slightly elevated section of the palace, was Alaric, his dark figure outlined by the morning sun. He was watching her with an amused smile, his hair swaying slightly in the breeze. There was something about the way he stood, so effortlessly poised, that made it hard for Astrid to look away.

A soft smile tugged at Astrid’s lips. Before she could respond, Alaric moved. In the blink of an eye, he leapt down with an ease that seemed almost unnatural, landing gracefully just a few meters away from her.

Astrid tightened her grip on the watering can, her heart skipping a beat at his approach. His presence was commanding, but not in an overpowering way, and she found something comforting about it, something that made her feel safe, like she could be herself.

When he finally stood before her, she greeted him warmly. "Good morning, Alaric."

His lips quirked up into a half-smile, the same smile that had once sent her heart into a flutter. "Good morning, Astrid." His gaze shifted to the watering can in her hands, and his brow furrowed slightly. "Why are you doing this?"

Astrid tilted her head, surprised by the question. "You mean watering the flowers?"

Alaric nodded, his expression thoughtful. "There are plenty of servants who can handle this."

She offered him a gentle smile, the kind she had learned to give when she felt that someone was trying too hard to take care of her. "I know, but this is the only way I can think of to be useful... to show my gratitude for having let my brothers and I stay here."

Alaric’s expression softened at her words, a small but meaningful smile appearing on his lips. Without another word, he reached out and took the watering can from her hands, setting it aside with a practiced ease. Then, with a gentleness that made her heart skip, he took her hands in his, his thumb rubbing slowly over the skin of her palms. The touch was tender, intimate in a way that left her breathless.

"You don’t need to do that," he murmured, his voice low and soothing. "Your presence is enough."

Astrid opened her mouth to protest, to argue that she wanted to do more, to be more than just someone who was cared for. But before she could speak, Alaric placed his index finger against her lips, silencing her. The unexpected gesture made her heart race, her breath hitching at the contact. His gaze was intense, unwavering, and it was as if the entire world had narrowed down to just the two of them.

"No objections," he said softly, the smirk on his lips betraying a hint of teasing. "I have something to show you."

Astrid wanted to ask what it was, but his finger was still pressed against her lips. He seemed to realize this only a moment later, and with an almost sheepish "Oh," he withdrew his hand, his expression more amused than apologetic.

"Come with me," he said, his voice now warm and inviting. He entwined their fingers together and led her away, and for once, Astrid didn’t hesitate. There was something so magnetic about him, something that made her feel like she could follow him anywhere.

As they made their way to the stables, Astrid chuckled softly, realizing the reason behind his sudden decision. Just a day ago, she had mentioned how she had always wanted to ride a horse. It seemed that Alaric had taken her words to heart, remembering her wish and deciding to fulfill it.

She felt her cheeks flush with warmth as they arrived at the stables, the large wooden doors opening to reveal a magnificent black stallion standing proudly in the sunlight. The horse’s coat gleamed beautifully, and Astrid couldn’t help but be in awe of its beauty.

She turned to Alaric, her voice soft with surprise and gratitude. "You didn’t have to do this... but thank you."

Alaric smiled, his usual playful demeanor returning. He bowed theatrically, one hand resting below his stomach and the other holding her fingers. He pressed a gentle kiss to her knuckles before raising his eyes to meet hers. "My pleasure."

He helped her mount the horse with ease, steadying her as she adjusted herself in the saddle. Then, without a word, Alaric climbed on behind her, his body pressing lightly against hers as he settled in the saddle. His hands moved to grasp the reins, and he leaned closer to her ear, his voice a low murmur. "Are you comfortable?"

Astrid felt her heart quicken at the closeness between them, her breath hitching as she nodded. "Yes."

Alaric guided her hands, showing her how to control the reins. At first, the horse moved at a slow, steady pace, the soft clip-clop of hooves against the ground the only sound between them. But as Astrid gained confidence, Alaric gradually let go of her hands, his fingers resting lightly on the side of her waist instead.

She noticed the subtle shift in his touch, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she focused on controlling the horse, feeling the steady rhythm of its movements beneath her. Her laughter bubbled up as the horse picked up speed, and before long, she and Alaric were both laughing and bickering as they rode across the field. The wind rushed past them, and for the first time in a long while, Astrid felt free. There were no obligations, no expectations—just the pure joy of the moment.

By the time they returned to the palace, it was nearly afternoon. They walked side by side, letting the comforting silence reign.

Alaric walked her to her chambers, his steps slow and deliberate. When she mentioned needing to wash before lunch, he offered to wait for her. At first, Astrid hesitated, but after a moment of quiet contemplation, she relented.

As she entered her room, Alaric sank into an armchair near the window, his eyes scanning the space with an almost absent-minded interest. He seemed to be checking for anything that was out of place, anything that might disturb the tranquility of the room. His gaze lingered on the small details—the soft throw draped over the armchair, the flowers in the vase by the window, the subtle elegance of the room’s decor.

Time passed before Astrid emerged from the bathroom, dressed simply in a dark blue gown. Her damp hair cascaded over her shoulders in soft waves, water droplets trailing down her skin.

Alaric turned, his eyes immediately locking onto her. She moved with quiet grace, her movements delicate as she walked toward the mirror, and sat down in front of it. She reached for a towel, beginning to dry her hair with a calm, practiced motion.

Without a word, Alaric rose from his seat, his gaze never leaving her. He moved toward her, his steps silent, and when he reached her side, he gently took the towel from her hands. She froze for a moment, surprised by the sudden closeness, but made no protest. There was something about him that made her feel both safe and exhilarated at the same time.

Their eyes met in the mirror, the unspoken emotions passing between them. Alaric’s gaze held a softness, a tenderness that took Astrid by surprise. He always tried to hide his emotions, feelings but then, his eyes spoke volume.

Silently, Alaric began to dry her hair, his fingers brushing lightly against her scalp. The sensation sent a ripple of warmth through her, and she found herself closing her eyes, savoring the moment. It was a small, intimate gesture, but it brought warmth, melting her heart completely. They were growing closer, and she could feel it in every touch, every glance. The bond between them was deepening, and neither of them seemed willing to pull away.

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