Prince of the shadows

Chapter 2

I wondered what his name was.

"Your Highness?"

"You may call me Kael when we are alone," he said.

Kael. I repeated the name in my head, testing the way it sounded. It suited him.

After a while, the carriage slowed, then came to a stop. A guard informed us that we had arrived. Kael stepped out first, then turned to offer me his hand. I hesitated for a moment before placing mine in his. His grip was firm yet careful as he helped me down.

The castle was grand, an imposing structure of ivory walls and towering spires. The gardens surrounding it were even more breathtaking—lush green hedges, vibrant flowers in full bloom, and elegant stone pathways leading to various corners of the estate. Large bridges connected the castle towers, their high archways giving glimpses of the city beyond. The windows were small, strategically placed, and the gaps in the walls hinted at the fortress's defensive nature.

At the heart of the garden stood a grand fountain, its cascading waters sparkling under the sunlight. The air carried the scent of fresh blooms, a mixture of roses, lilacs, and something unfamiliar but pleasant. It was a sight so beautiful it almost felt surreal.

"Kael?" Someone called from the distance. I turned my head.

Four men dressed in royal robes approached us.

"We came to welcome you and your bride," one of them announced with a polite smile.

"Is that so?" Kael asked, his voice unreadable.

"Of course. We are family, after all," another one smirked.

Family?

"Why don't you and your bride join us for dinner?" one of them suggested. "We'd like to get a closer look at her." His gaze flickered to me, lingering for just a second too long.

Kael took a step forward, closing the space between him and the man. He wasn't touching him, but the tension was immediate. It was clear he was asserting dominance, and it worked. The man's guards tensed, their hands moving toward their weapons.

Kael's own guards reacted just as swiftly, their hands hovering near their swords.

For a moment, the air was thick with silent threats.

Then Kael spoke, his voice calm but firm. "Thank you, but I must decline."

He turned, his grip tightening on my hand as he pulled me forward. He was tense. Angry.

"Shouldn't we greet your parents, Your Highness?" I asked.

Kael abruptly halted. His grip loosened. "My mother is dead," he said flatly. There was no sadness in his voice, only a hollow emptiness. "And the king... he is of no concern to you."

He started walking again, this time without dragging me.

Inside the castle, two maids awaited us.

"Your Highness," they greeted with a bow. "With your permission, we would like to prepare Her Highness for the evening."

Prepare me?

At first, Kael didn't let go of my hand. Only when the maids gave him a pleading look did he release me and walk away without a word.

The maids guided me to a dressing chamber. They helped me out of my wedding gown, replacing it with a soft silk nightdress and a matching robe. They removed the pins from my hair, letting it cascade over my shoulders. Then they dabbed fragrant oils onto my wrists before offering me a cup of tea.

"What is this?" I asked.

"A calming herbal tea, Your Highness. It will help you relax and ease any discomfort."

Discomfort?

I stiffened as realization dawned. The horror on my face must have been obvious because the maids exchanged glances, their eyes filled with something that looked like pity.

Why pity? Was Kael the kind of man who would be rough with me? He hadn't seemed cruel, but then again, I had barely known him for a day. And the way he had gripped my wrist earlier… it hadn't hurt, but there had been an undeniable strength behind it.

I swallowed hard.

Princess Seraphine sat still, her breath slow and measured. The man beside her—Prince Kael—radiated quiet intensity, his presence overwhelming even in silence. She had spoken to him only hours ago, bold and unafraid. But now, as the flickering candlelight cast long shadows across his sharp features, she felt the weight of every rumor about him.

Kael didn't move, but he could feel her fear. It was always the same. They looked at him, but they never truly saw him.

He had been feared for as long as he could remember. Even as a boy, his father had regarded him with unease. The first time his powers surfaced—a moment of lost control, a burst of fire, a scream that haunted him even now—had sealed his fate. His father had called him a monster. The world had only followed suit.

And now Seraphine lay beside him, stiff as a board, terrified of the man she had been forced to share a bed with.

A quiet sigh escaped his lips. He hadn't wanted this.

That night, Seraphine fell into restless sleep. Her dreams twisted into something dark. She was running, her bare feet scraping against jagged stone. Something was chasing her. A figure, wreathed in shadow, its eyes burning red.

A voice, deep and unearthly, echoed through the darkness:

"You cannot escape me."

The creature lunged.

She screamed.

The world snapped back into focus as she bolted upright, her breath ragged.

Strong arms caught her. Kael.

"Easy," he murmured, his voice lower, gentler than she expected. "It was a nightmare."

Seraphine's heart pounded. She could still see the red eyes, feel the terror gripping her chest. But Kael's hands were warm, grounding her in reality.

For the first time since arriving here, she looked at him—not as the monster the world feared, but as the man who had just pulled her from the depths of her nightmare.