He let go of her, swinging his leg over the saddle and dropping to the smooth ground with a soft thud. He didn't reach up to help her down just yet. Instead, he took a few steps forward into the empty space at the edge of the crater and focused his mind.
The blue System interface snapped open in the air in front of him.
Alaric bypassed the units and skills, swiping directly to the [Structures & Fortifications] tab. He scrolled past the heavy stone walls and siege towers until he found the luxury constructs.
[Luxury Pavilion: Geothermal Spring]
[Cost: 2,500 MP]
[Description: A master-crafted bathhouse forged from pale marble and shimmering crystal. Taps directly into deep subterranean heat to provide a constantly flowing, mineral-rich hot spring. Features one-way privacy wards (completely transparent crystal from the inside, solid white stone from the outside) and heated floors.]
"Perfect," Alaric muttered. He tapped the glowing blue Confirm button.
[2,500 MP deducted.]
The smooth green glass beneath their boots gave a sudden, deep tremor.
Sansa gripped the saddle horn tightly, her eyes going wide. Behind her, Roslin's horse nervously stamped its hooves, and Margaery leaned forward in her saddle, her brown eyes locked onto the empty space in front of Alaric.
A swirling mist of blue and gold light poured out of the air. In a matter of seconds, The mist rapidly wove itself into physical matter. A massive, breathtakingly beautiful pavilion rose seamlessly out of the earth.
The architecture was flawless, built from smooth, snow-white marble and shimmering, crystal-clear tiles. Elegant pillars held up an open-air roof, and silver braziers sparked to life along the entrance. Steam immediately began to waft gently from the arched doorways, carrying the sweet, clean scent of fresh water and warm stone.
The blue screen vanished. Alaric turned around and looked at his wives.
Sansa was completely speechless. Her jaw hung slightly open as she stared at the massive, steaming bathhouse that had literally grown out of the ground in less than five seconds. Roslin looked like she had just seen a god perform a miracle, her hands covering her mouth in pure, terrified awe.
Even Margaery, who usually prided herself on never being caught off guard, was completely stunned. She stared at the pristine white stone and the brilliant crystal architecture, then looked at Alaric, her clever mind struggling to comprehend the sheer, impossible scale of the magic he commanded so casually.
"A hot bath," Alaric announced smoothly, walking back over to his horse and reaching his hands up to help Sansa down. He offered her a confident, highly amused smirk. "With clear walls from the inside so you can look out over the city while you soak, and absolute privacy so no one can look in."
He set Sansa on her feet. She didn't let go of his arms. She just looked at the steaming, palace-like pavilion, then back up at him, her blue eyes shining with a mix of utter disbelief and raw adoration.
"You..." Sansa breathed, shaking her head slowly. "You just built a palace. In five seconds. Just because I said my feet were tired."
"Is that a bad thing?" Alaric asked, his tone perfectly innocent as he tilted his head. He blinked down at her, though the wicked, entirely unapologetic glint in his eyes betrayed the act completely.
Sansa just stared at him, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to formulate a proper sentence to describe the absolute absurdity of what he had just done.
Alaric's smirk deepened. He stepped a fraction closer, his hands resting lightly on her waist as his voice dropped into a low, teasing drawl. "Though, if you're really that happy with it, maybe you could reward me. Perhaps by..."
He leaned down, his breath warm against the side of her neck as he brought his lips to her ear, whispering exactly what kind of reward he had in mind.
The reaction was instantaneous. The color rushed to Sansa's cheeks with alarming speed, turning the tips of her ears a burning, bright red. She gasped, pulling back just enough to deliver a light, thoroughly embarrassed punch to his chest.
"Alaric!" she hissed, glancing around as if the empty crater might suddenly have an audience. She bit her lower lip, unable to hide the flustered, shy smile fighting its way onto her face. She dropped her gaze to his collarbone, her voice dropping to a soft, breathless murmur. "Okay... but only one time."
Alaric chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound of satisfaction, just as the soft crunch of boots on smooth glass caught his attention.
Roslin and Margaery had finally managed to pull themselves from their saddles. They walked over to join them, their eyes constantly darting between the steaming, flawless marble of the pavilion and Alaric himself. There was a burning curiosity in their gazes—a desperate, natural urge to understand how he could bend reality to his whim and pull a construct from thin air. But they were smart women. They knew better than to press him for secrets he wasn't ready to share, content to simply reap the impossible benefits of his power.
Margaery, ever the quickest to recover her wits, was the first to shake off the lingering awe. The shock melted from her beautiful features, replaced smoothly by her signature, knowing smile. She stepped right up to Alaric, effortlessly sliding her hands over his arm and intertwining her slender fingers with his.
She gave his hand a firm, eager tug toward the inviting, steam-filled archways.
"Well, don't just stand there keeping us waiting, Husbend," Margaery purred, her brown eyes dancing with excitement and a hint of promise. "Let's go inside. If you truly built us a palace in five seconds, I intend to see if the water is as divine as it looks."