9
Chapter 19
Sylvia’s Perspective
9:00 am, The Grand Hotel, Room 809
DING DONG! DING DONG!
I was pulled from my slumber by the sudden, sharp trill of the doorbell.
It had been so long since I’d slept this peacefully, I almost forgot what it felt like. The heavy and soft comforter enveloped me like a cloud, making it nearly impossible to leave the warm cocoon of the bed.
My body protested as I shifted, the weight of the comforter pressing down as if to hold me captive in this blissful state just a bit longer. I stretched out beneath it, feeling the weight against my limbs, before reluctantly swinging my legs over the
side.
The room was still dark, illuminated only by thin streaks of sunlight seeping through the thick curtains. For a moment, I just sat there, groggy and disoriented, listening to the quiet hum of the hotel’s air conditioning. The room was luxurious in a way that didn’t quite suit me–polished marble floors, intricate woodwork framing the windows, and the scent of fresh linens that I wasn’t yet accustomed to. My brain was sluggish as I finally rose from the bed, shuffling across the carpeted. floor with my eyes still half–closed.
I opened the door, squinting into the brighter light of the hallway.
“Alaric?” I blinked in confusion, taking in the sight of him standing there casually, as if he belonged in this pristine, opulent environment.
He was dressed in a gray hoodie that hung loosely over his frame, paired with white jeans that stood out against the clean lines of the hotel’s interior. Around his
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Chapter 19
neck, a pair of bright orange headphones blared their presence, loud and bold like everything about him. His outfit screamed youth and vibrance, contrasting sharply with the high–class ambiance of the hotel. He was a flash of color and energy in a place that felt otherwise cold and distant.
“Hey, Sis.” His voice was casual, but his smile was radiant, lighting up his face. His round eyes sparkled with mischief, and when he grinned, two sharp canines peeked out–something I’d forgotten he still had.
For a brief moment, it was like stepping back in time, to when he used to follow me around as a little kid, calling me “Sis” in that same adoring tone. The nostalgia hit me like a wave, softening the edges of my sleep–deprived mind.
“I wanted to see if I have the honor of inviting you to breakfast?”
The way he said it, with that teasing glint in his eye, made it impossible to refuse.
The hotel’s breakfast buffet was the kind reserved for the most elite guests, where you could find anything your heart desired–an expansive spread of pastries, fruits, cheeses, eggs, and dishes from around the world. It was the kind of opulence that should have impressed me, but I’d been traveling so much these past few years that these luxuries started blending together.
Alaric led the way to the dining room, walking ahead of me with the easy, lighthearted gait of someone who didn’t have a care in the world. As we reached the table, ha
pulled out a chair with a flourish, bowing slightly as he did so. His exaggerated movements were so over–the–top that I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Please, my lady,” he said in an exaggerated accent, one hand held to his chest like a knight from some old–timey movie. “Allow me.”
“You’ve really got these human manners down,” I remarked, shaking my head. with a smile. He had grown so much since the last time I saw him. The kid who used to be shy and quiet now had an air of confidence about him that was both charming and surprising.
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He grinned again, that same boyish smile lighting up his face. “I’m not that good at them. It’s just when I see you, everything falls into place.”
He placed a breakfast plate in front of me–exquisitely arranged, each item positioned just so. There was something almost artful about it, like the chef had taken extra care to make it perfect. The food looked almost too beautiful to eat, though my stomach was rumbling in protest at the idea of letting it sit untouched.
“Sis, you’re the well–traveled, worldly one here. Help me judge the chef’s skills,” Alaric said, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.
I stared at the plate for a moment, then at the freshly brewed tea still steaming in its delicate cup. The aroma of rich, dark leaves wafted up, mingling with the subtle, comforting scent of freshly baked bread. For a brief moment, I got lost in the gentle swirl of steam rising from the tea, forgetting his question entirely.
I took a bite of the breakfast, and immediately, I knew. The food was different–not just in the way it tasted but in the way it felt. Each bite was a little richer, a little more robust than anything I’d had from human chefs. It was like the flavors carried more weight, more depth. The subtle hints of spices and herbs lingered on my palate in a way that felt uniquely… familiar.
“It’s quite good,” I finally said, glancing up at Alaric. “You’re using me as a taste
tester, aren’t you?”
He feigned an innocent expression. “Me? No way! I brought in this chef, specially from home, just for you. It’s not every day I get to see a big star, so I had to make
sure you eat well!”
A chef from home?
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The 1x Husband’s Re
