Far above the infirmary, in a chamber cloaked with drawn curtains and guarded doors, Queen Seraphina sat in silence. The queen of Florabelle was always a vision of serene command, her red hair woven into flawless braids, her posture regal, voice calm. But tonight her knuckles were pale against the carved arms of her chair.
Lucien stood at her right, the eldest prince, broad-shouldered and still as stone. He had said little since the summons, but his eyes never left Lady Marwen as she bowed low before them.
"You were the only adult present," Seraphina said at last, her tone even but carrying the weight of command. "Speak plainly, Marwen. What happened?"
The older lady’s lips pressed tight. Her hands trembled once, then stilled as she clasped them together. "Your Majesty... the children were having so fun ti as I used the opportunity to gather my report from Prince Caelith, when the air itself froze. A shadow—tall, faceless—stepped through the warded walls as though they were cloth. We could not move. He spoke only to the princess. He said she was the one they needed."
Seraphina’s face drained of color. "You are certain he spoke of Evelisse in that manner?"
Lady Marwen hesitated, then steadied her voice. "I stake my oath on it, Your Majesty."
Lucien’s fists curled so tightly his knuckles cracked. He had overseen the capture of Evelisse’s supposed kidnappers months before, had interrogated them himself.
"Impossible," he muttered, his stoic face breaking its usual character. "We broke their network. I saw their chains. If another moves freely in this castle..."
"...then what did you capture?" Marwen’s voice cut in, sharper now despite her deference. "If their ssenger still walks free, then Florabelle is not safe. And neither is its princess."
The chamber fell silent, heavy and suffocating.
For the first ti in years, Queen Seraphina’s mask cracked. Her breath faltered, her hand pressing against her chest as though to steady her own heart. She glanced at Lucien, the son she relied on most when Aldric was off on treaty trips, but even he faltered beneath the weight of the truth.
"What of the prince of Elaris?" Seraphina asked, quieter now. "Caelith. How badly?"
Marwen bowed her head. "Bruised ribs. Blood loss. His strength... is extraordinary for one so young. But the shadow ssenger nearly broke him."
The queen closed her eyes. When she opened them again, the calm mask had returned—but thinner, fragile at the edges. "This cannot reach the King. Not yet. Neither ours, nor Elaris’. Not until we know exactly who walks our halls."
Lucien’s jaw tightened. "Then the castle goes under lockdown and a thorough search. No one leaves, no one enters. Not a word spreads beyond these walls."
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Back in the infirmary, Evelisse’s tears slipped silently as she watched Caelith sleep again. His breath was shallow, his lashes casting faint shadows against his bruised cheeks. She pressed her forehead to the edge of the bed, whispering so softly no one else could hear.
"I’ll get stronger. I won’t let you suffer like this again. I swear it."
Fluffy, the small creature who had trailed her faithfully, sat at the foot of the bed. Its ocean blue eyes were fixed on her, silent and unblinking. For once, even it did not stir. Only when the lanterns dimd to embers and Evelisse’s hand stilled from exhaustion did the creature shift, curling closer to her side as if keeping its own vigil.
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
The castle was hushed by midnight, but unease clung to every corridor. Guards doubled their posts, doors were barred, whispers of shadow intrusions kept lips trembling in the dark. Behind the silence, fear rooted itself deeper.
And in the infirmary’s quiet, as Evelisse finally drifted into a tear-heavy sleep, Caelith’s breath hitched. His silver eyes flickered open—not calm this ti, but wide, haunted. His hand clutched at his chest, not from pain of flesh, but from sothing colder.
Because in the dark corner of the room, just for an instant, he thought he saw it again—the outline of a faceless shadow.
Caelith’s silver eyes snapped wide open, his breath caught against his throat as if the shadow had reached inside and gripped him from within.
His body protested the sudden movent, a spike of pain rippling through his ribs, but he forced himself to focus, to be certain. The corner was empty. The lantern’s low fla quivered, and only the curtain swayed gently with the breeze.
Yet his skin crawled.
’It was there,’ he thought, his pulse refusing to settle. ’I’m not imagining it. He hasn’t left .’
His gaze drifted down. Evelisse was curled at the bedside, her small fingers still wrapped around his hand. Her chest rose and fell unevenly, tear stains drying on her cheeks. Even in sleep, she clung to him with all the fragile stubbornness of soone refusing to let go.
Sothing in him broke and nded at once. He hated that she had seen him fall, that she had sobbed with guilt that should never have touched her. Yet at the sa ti... he loved that she held on. That she refused to let go even when she thought she had failed him.
’You think you’re weak,’ he told her silently, ’but you’re the only one who keeps from drowning.’
A soft groan escaped him as he adjusted, trying not to wake her. His body throbbed, but the pain reminded him of what mattered—Evelisse safe, alive, here. He closed his eyes briefly, but the shadow’s outline lingered behind his lids.
The image of the ssenger’s faceless stare burned inside him. That thing had spoken Evelisse’s na as if it owned her fate. And Caelith, prince of Elaris, heir to a crown he hadn’t even begun to carry, had felt powerless before it.
’I swore I would protect her. Yet all I did was bleed in her place. What kind of strength is that?’
But then her fingers twitched around his hand, pulling him back from the spiral. He turned his head, watching the smallest princess of Florabelle with quiet intensity.
’If it happens again... if that shadow cos for you once more... I will not fall so easily. Even if it kills , I will not let you cry like that again.’
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