Since that night when she saw Wilfred fighting against the night creatures, Aria couldn't forget his carnivorous red gaze, nor the strange beauty of that cursed king.
But what troubled her the most was that vague sensation, that constant shadow that seemed to hover around her, even when Wilfred remained hidden.
Every morning, upon waking, she felt like a breath on her skin, a warmth that came neither from the wind nor the sun. Sometimes, at a turn in the path, she caught a subtle scent, a mix of black roses and cold air, which made her shiver.
Sometimes, in the silence of dusk, she thought she heard a whisper carried by the wind:
> "I watch over you… even when you don't see me."
Aria tried not to think about it, convincing herself she was imagining it all, that it was only the fruit of her tired mind.
But every time she felt danger near, every time a chill of anxiety seized her, that invisible presence seemed to protect her, to guide her, like an unseen hand resting on her shoulder.
One evening, as she sat near the fire with Roy and Van, she glanced toward the forest and whispered:
— You know… sometimes, I feel like he's here, without being here. Like a shadow watching over me.
Roy frowned, worried.
— Who, Aria? You mean that king of shadows?
Aria nodded softly.
— Yes. I believe he hasn't forgotten me… even if he stays far away.
Van, always teasing, smiled and said:
— Now you're talking about your vampire prince?
Aria smiled, but in her eyes shone a strange light, full of hope and melancholy.
In the distance, where the trees met the sky, a shadow slipped silently, and a red gaze watched.
Wilfred, the cursed king, was watching.
Silent.
Invisible.