I opened my eyes. A deathly silence hung over the entire castle, and darkness blanketed the room that was usually lit by warm light. Only a faint glow filtered through the window, spilling from the moon above. I sat up in bed, then slowly climbed out, but had to grab the bedpost for support as weakness washed over me.
The memory of what had happened only hours ago came rushing back. At the thought of my father's death, tears began to spill down my cheeks. I wept quietly as I made my way toward his chambers. The corridor was dark as well; I hurried barefoot across the red carpet, its thick fabric muffling my footsteps. Stopping before his door, I drew in a deep breath and pressed down on the golden handle.
The room, too, was cloaked in shadow, but even from the doorway I could see it was empty. My father was gone—only the imprint of his presence remained. I walked to the neatly made bed, sat on its edge, and brushed my hand across the soft velvet blanket.
He had been lying here only moments ago.
My heart clenched painfully as I accepted that I would never see him again. Everything had happened so suddenly. Just days ago he had seemed perfectly well—and now he lived only in my memories. My gaze dropped to the floor. Kneeling, I picked up the small leather-bound journal my father had entrusted to me in his final moments.
"You must run! You are not safe."
His last words echoed in my mind.
The door burst open with a loud bang, and I jumped where I sat. Quickly, I hid the little journal in the pocket of my skirt—it was the last gift I had from my father.
"Princess, I know you are mourning," Charles said softly, concern in his voice, "but we must leave at once."
"Go? Go where?" I looked up at him in despair.
"Your father instructed me to get you off the estate. Your life is in danger. Please—come now."
I gave a small nod and followed the tall man down the staircase and out of the castle. A carriage stood waiting at the entrance, the coachman already holding the reins, ready to depart as soon as we boarded. Countless bags and chests were piled high at the back. Charles opened the door for me and gestured urgently. I took one last look at the estate before stepping inside and sitting down.
He shut the door behind me, climbed up beside the coachman, and within moments we were off. The two horses galloped swiftly through the night, their hooves pounding against the road in a steady rhythm that echoed in my ears. I was terrified—no, I was utterly petrified.
My father's words kept swirling in my mind. I tried to make sense of them—who was this Prince of Darkness he had spoken of? And why would he want my life? I reached into my pocket, pulled out the little book, and opened it to the first page.
To my beloved,
It has been two full weeks since I last saw you. Your absence is irreplaceable; the longer you stay away, the weaker my heart grows. I do not know how long I can endure without you. Only my memories remain, but I shall never forget you. Each night I pray to the stars that I may see you once more.
Rose
The handwriting was beautiful, yet in places almost illegible—some of the letters were smudged, others curling and tangling into one another. Rose must have been my father's lover, though I could not recall him ever mentioning her.
The carriage suddenly jolted to a stop, nearly throwing me across to the other seat, but I managed to steady myself by gripping the side. Peering out the window, I saw Charles and the coachman dismounting to inspect the side of the carriage. I opened the door.
"Princess, please step out for a moment," Charles said, extending his hand to help me down. "It seems we're stuck in the mud. We'll have it free in a moment and continue on."
The coachman's eyes darted nervously toward the dark forest nearby, fear reflecting in their depths. Somewhere among the tall trees, a raven cawed. The wind tugged at my hair and slipped beneath my cloak, sending shivers through me. The horses stamped restlessly, snorting and neighing, but the wheels trapped in the mud held them fast.
The two men moved behind the carriage, straining with all their strength to push it free—but it didn't budge.
"Let's try digging around the wheels," the coachman suggested. They crouched by the sides and began scraping away the wet earth.
Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from somewhere in the distance. We all froze and turned toward the sound—but the darkness revealed nothing. The noise stopped for a heartbeat, then returned, louder and closer. I couldn't tell what it was, but Charles immediately rushed to the horses and began untying their reins.
"What's happening?" I asked in panic.
He glanced at me briefly. "They're coming."
With that, he freed the horses. "Princess, come quickly—you must get on the horse."
A new cacophony rose in the distance. I thought I saw a faint flicker of light between the trees, though I couldn't tell whether it was real or only my frightened imagination.
I hurried to Charles's side; he lifted me onto the black horse, then mounted the other.
"And what about you?" I asked, trembling, looking back at the coachman.
"Don't worry about me, my lady," he said, fastening a few bags from the carriage onto the horses. "I'll hide in the forest and try to lead them away."
"We must go—now!" Charles ordered firmly.
I grasped the reins tightly, spurred my horse forward, and followed Charles down the moonlit path.