(The shadow Pov)
The moon hung high over the castle, casting silver beams through the ornate stained glass windows. Shadows danced upon the walls, swirling and flickering as if they were alive. Among these shadows, there lurked one particularly adept at navigating the darkness: Torrence, known to many simply as "the Shadow."
A few days had passed since his last conversation with Queen Isabella. Their exchanges had been innocent enough, flitting from light discussions about family secrets to the weight of unspoken hopes. Isabella revealed the memories of her mother's first love—a tale woven with laughter and tears—and Torrence, in turn, shared stories of his own past, cloaked in the mystery that defined his existence. Yet, those stolen moments of openness felt distant now, overshadowed by the urgent work that had consumed him.
Underground, where the lights of civilization flicker and the cries of the lost reverberate through forgotten tunnels, Torrence had dedicated himself to a cause that pulled at his very soul. Striking against the vile forces that preyed upon the innocent, he had become a savior in the shadows. His nights were filled with daring raids against kidnapping rings and cults, where he had rescured the lost servants—displaced souls who had vanished into grim corners of existence. With over eight hundred lives saved and forty ruthless operations dismantled, Torrence bore the scars of his journey, both physical and emotional.
But the thrill of rescue paled in comparison to the warmth he felt thinking about Isabella, whose smile—gentle yet fierce—had forever changed him. On this particular night, after an exhausting mission that had seen him liberate a group of frightened servants from a wretched den, he felt a tug at his heart. It was the call of the queen, echoing through the solitude of his thoughts.
With careful precision, he moved through the labyrinthine structure of the castle grounds, ensuring each footfall was as silent as the night. Torrence reached the door of Isabella's chamber, an ornate thing that spoke of her royal status, and pushed it open softly. Inside, the flickering candlelight bathed the room in a warm glow, illuminating the serene expression on Isabella's slumbering face.
Torrence approached her, feeling an ancient connection blossom in the quiet between them. She seemed so peaceful, her chest rising and falling rhythmically as she lost herself in dreams. He carried with him a golden daisy, a flower symbolizing loyalty and friendship, and a white rose candle, an emblem of purity and new beginnings. These had become his tokens, little offerings to express the gravity of his waning emotions.
Kneeling beside her bed, he placed the golden daisy on her nightstand, its soft petals catching the candle's light. Then, he lit the white rose candle, allowing its fragrant wax to fill the air around them. As the flame flickered, he recalled their shared moments of laughter, the glimmer of curiosity in her eyes as she spoke of family and dreams. It was both a gift and a promise—a vow that he would continue to watch over her as she navigated the perils of her royal life.
Torrence pulled out the journal he had gifted her some time ago, its pages filled with small conversations they have often during the night. He took a moment to pen a few lines, pouring out thoughts he dared not speak aloud, feelings too complex to voice in words exchanged face-to-face.
"Dear Isabella,
Even in shadows, I find my light in you. Know that I am always near, protecting you and others from the darkness that seeks to consume. As you read these words, remember that you are never alone. I carry your heart with me, wherever I go.
Forever your shadow"
With a sigh, he closed the journal, placing it carefully back upon the nightstand. Just as he stood to leave, he paused, taking one last look at Isabella. Her beauty was a paradox—a blend of serenity and strength, of grace and determination. The allure of her spirit wrapped around him, binding him to a fate intertwined with her own.
With one soft footfall after another, Torrence slipped back into the night, becoming one with the shadows once more. But his heart remained tethered to that peaceful room, where the flickering candlelight continued to cast its warm glow, and the golden daisy smiled through the darkness. In this eternal dance of shadows and light, he had found purpose—and a reason to fight, not just for the forgotten souls he saved, but also for the queen whose heart now beat in rhythm with his.