"G- Grim Reaper? Am I dead a-again?"
My voice came out hoarse and dry as I struggled to speak. In that ethereal darkness, a dark silhouette loomed like a lord of shadows, emerging from hell. I tried to move, but pain shot through my body, and my bleeding knee felt too heavy to lift.
"Grim Reaper?"
A low, husky chuckle broke the eerie silence of the midnight forest. He jumped into the pit, closing the distance between us. His magnetic voice echoed mysteriously, "Are you scared of me, M'lady?"
"N-No, death doesn't scare me anymore."
I barely had the strength to respond as I murmured in a disappointed tone.
My head was throbbing as if it would burst, and blood was gushing out from my fresh wounds. Every part of me felt numb except for the searing pain raging within. Summoning the last bit of my strength, I whispered, voice trembling, "Are you here to kill me? I don't want to die yet. It's-"
A lump of despair choked my words. My survival instincts screamed at me. I had suffered all my life—an orphan, homeless, always battling hunger and misery. And yet, I wanted to live, still clinging to the hope of a better future.
Another soft chuckle echoed as he was mocking my pitiful life. He leaned closer, his whisper strangely gentle, "Never. How can I let you die when I am dying for you, My Princess?"
His words sent a shiver down my spine; they were nothing but riddles. The scent of rich cologne and expensive wine filled my senses. He knelt before me, inspecting my bloody wounds.
His voice turned grave. "Damn it! Your injuries are deep. Do you know who attacked you?"
"N-No! I got separated from my Royal Guards while chasing a wild minotaur(the creature had the body of a man and the head of a bull). Then a group of armed men appeared. Their faces were covered with black clothes. They surrounded me from all— Cough! Cough!"
My throat burned, cutting off my words. Suddenly, warmth enveloped me, and that intoxicating scent of fine wine grew stronger, almost choking me with its sweetness.
Strong yet gentle arms wrapped around my waist, lifting me effortlessly.
His voice, calm and soothing, he whispered in my ears, "Shh. Don't speak. I'll get you out of here."
He moved with grace, his steady heartbeat near my ear, his breath warm against my feverish skin. Every step he took was confident, powerful. Safe in his arms, exhaustion overtook me, and my eyes gradually became heavier.
An amber moon hung high in the night sky.
The moonlight cast a long, elegant shadow across his face, making him look more mysterious and enchanting. Reflected light glimmered over his handsome and crystal-skinned face like beams of icy radiance. I could only notice his silky, black hair, ruffling by the breeze and his extraordinary topaz eyes, flecked and ringed with gold; burning like a ferocious animal in that darkness of the midnight.
In dizzy and exhausted eyes, I was gawking at his mysterious face without even realising myself. A twinkle of moonlight caught his eyes the moment he glanced at me as if he sensed my curious and intense gaze on him.
He held my gaze for a few seconds, his silence stretching between us like an unspoken challenge. Then, in a deep, teasing murmur, he said in a low tone, "Tell me, Princess, are you captivated by me or just too afraid to look away?"
I swallowed shyly, my pulse felt unsteady. Still, I couldn't break our eye contact as if I was getting drowned in his eyes, "Should I be afraid of you, Sir?"
His velvety voice curled around me like a promise and a warning all at once. "Fear me? Or surrender to me? The choice was never really yours, was it?"
"Huh?"
I asked, my voice laced with confusion, "Where are we going? Who… who are you?"
A faint smirk curled up his lips as he met my gaze. His voice was a mere whisper, yet it sent a shiver down my spine. "Don't worry," he murmured. "I'm not here to kidnap you… yet. Isn't that enough for now?"
I hesitated, blinking in bewilderment. Everything about him—his voice, his posture, the effortless grace in his movements—felt unfamiliar. Was he a friend or a foe? Could I trust him?
A storm of unanswered questions raged in my mind, but my eyes were drawn to that smirk, that quiet amusement dancing on his lips. He was unnerving in ways I couldn't explain. My vision blurred, exhaustion weighing down on me, clouding my thoughts. Without thinking, I leaned into him, my cheek brushing against the firm plane of his chest repeatedly.
"You smell s-so good," I murmured drowsily, inhaling his warmth.
His arms tightened around me, steady and secure. Within moments, sleep claimed me, pulling me into its depths as his steady heartbeats were like a lullaby in my ears.
---
[Eden Forest, Near the Border of Zahava]
The deep hoots of an owl echoed through the midnight hush, blending with the rhythmic gallop of approaching horses. The crisp scent of damp earth lingered in the air as a dark silhouette moved steadily through the forest.
He walked with effortless confidence, the broad lines of his shoulders straining against the fine fabric of his dark tunic. There was a quiet strength in his stride, an unspoken authority that made it clear—this was a man who feared nothing. And in his arms, he carried a girl, fast asleep, cradled against his chest.
A sharp whisper broke the silence.
"Your Highness!"
The prince halted, his head tilting slightly at the sound of hurried footsteps behind him. A figure emerged from the shadows- a young lad in his early twenties with a pair of sharp hawk-like eyes.
"Your Highness," the young lad repeated, lowering his voice. "You must not go any further. If you cross into Zahava's territory, you'll be walking into danger."
The prince turned but it was too dark to read his expression. Then, with a slow, knowing smile, he murmured nonchalantly, "And?"
The knight stiffened. "The army—"
A low, rich chuckle cut through the air. The prince threw his head back, his laughter deep, almost inviting. "Do you think I care?" His voice was laced with amusement, but his eyes gleamed with something far more dangerous.
Metz swallowed, unease flickering across his face. "Your Highness, please. You must not be seen."
The prince exhaled, shaking his head. "Afraid of a few soldiers, Metz?" He scoffed, his tone edged with arrogance. "I am not a coward."
Without another glance, he turned and continued into the night, disappearing into the depths of the forest. Though they were already inside the territory of Zahava kingdom, there wasn't even a flicker of panic in his topaz eyes.
"They will misunderstand if they see the princess in your arms like this. They'll assume you're the one who hurt her. You must think about Princess' dignity, Your Highness," Metz warned in a hushed voice.
The prince paused, considering his words. Then, with a slow nod, he stepped forward and carefully laid the sleeping princess onto a soft patch of grass. His movements were gentle, mindful of her wounds, as if she were something fragile—something precious- delicate like a porcelain doll.
Without another word, both men climbed into the sturdy branches of two nearby trees, blending into the shadows. They watched in silence as Zahava's cavalry approached, the pounding of hooves disrupted the stillness of the night.
The moment they noticed the Princess in that condition, panic darkened their brave faces. Swiftly, one of them lifted her into his arms and rushed her back toward the golden castle, desperate to summon the royal physicians.
From his hidden branch, the prince watched, his golden eyes gleaming like molten topaz in the moonlight. A faint smirk curved his lips- pleased, yet unreadable.
As they made their way back toward the border, he finally broke the silence. "Metz, how did you find me? Were you following me again?"
Metz exhaled, matching the prince's pace. "No. I simply knew you'd be here when I heard of Princess Aralia's disappearance."
For a while, neither spoke. The silence of the night surrounded them, broken only by the distant rustling of the trees and occasional screaming of the nocturnal creatures. Then, Metz spoke again, his curiosity getting the better of him.
"Why?" he asked. "Why do you care so much about Princess Aralia? You're willing to risk your reputation, even your safety for her. Why is she so important for you?"
The prince's gaze lifted to the midnight sky, his expression unreadable. He let out a slow, heavy sigh before speaking, his voice low and distant—like a whisper from another time.
"When you've spent too long in the dark, you learn to treasure the light." His voice softened, almost reverent. "And she- she is the brightest thing in my dark world."
He paused for a moment, then murmured, almost to himself, "I just want to protect her glow. I need her to shine for me."