"Commander is surely possessive, is he not?" My body shivered when one of the ladies commented teasingly.
My heart skipped a beat, and I glanced at the brim of the hat he had just slammed over my head.
Finding their absurd comment a beautiful illusion I wished to be true.
I wanted to believe their words, to believe it was possessiveness born of affection, but the cold truth remained: I was simply under his ownership.
I was his possession, and like his precious claymore, I had to stay sheathed.
"Why wouldn't he be? Look at the Lady, since she has stepped here, all eyes are on her."
"Lady Ardelle is a fairy, no?"
Intrigued, I glanced from my shoulder, tilting my head in confusion, "What is a fairy?"
The ladies gasped in unison, exchanged bewildered looks. "You don't know what a fairy is, My Lady?"
"She is a small beautiful woman with wings and magic powers," one explained, her eyes sparkling.
I chuckled softly, thinking of the dirt-streaked girl I had been just three weeks ago, "I have neither wings nor magic powers."
"Wrong," a lady whispered, leaning in close. "You only lack the wings. But you have magic powers. Do you not know?"
"Really? What?"
She leaned into my ear, her voice was low, the sound of gossip.
"Lord Kaldric swore to never wed. He offered his life and his blood to the Crown. You are the first woman of his life. You married the Stone of Emberspear– how can it not be magic?"
The information greeted me like a gentle breeze that was hauntingly heartwarming. The first.
For once, I experienced a sudden, heavy sense of honor, but it was quickly chased by a bitter ache.
If I was the first, why was he so determined to treat me like the last thing he ever wanted to see?
He didn't trust my words. He didn't trust my heart. He only trusted what he could see with his own two eyes.
'Fine,' I thought. A sudden, cold resolve settled in my chest, replacing the shyness with something sharper.
'If you only trust your eyes, My Lord, then I will give them nothing else to look at.'
I excused myself from the ladies, my pale pink skirts sweeping the marble floor with a newfound purpose.
I didn't return to the safety of the Lady's wing. I didn't go to the gardens to hide. Instead, I reached the Great Strategy Room.
The doors were guarded, but the knights stepped aside, confused by the sudden appearance of the Commander's bride. Inside, the room was overflowing with the scent of old parchment, maps, and the aggressive heat of powerful men.
I didn't speak. I didn't interrupt. I simply walked to the corner of the room where the shadows met and stood behind Lord Kaldric, mentally prepared for an insult or being thrown out.
He sensed me instantly. His entire frame stiffened, his hand pausing over a wooden marker on the map.
He didn't turn around, but I saw the muscles in his neck tighten with transparent discontent.
"Ardelle," he warned in a low yet dangerous tone to leave him.
"Go back to the west wing. This is no place for a woman."
The other knights and council members went silent, their gazes shifting between the stone-faced Commander and the girl in the delicate pink dress standing amidst the maps of war.
"You told me you do not trust me and will be watching me, My Lord," I began, my voice steady and clear enough for every knight in the room to hear.
"I simply wanted to ensure I was easy to find and not be a distraction by my absence."
Lord Kaldric finally turned. His silver eyes were wide, swirling with a mix of fury and something that looked dangerously like impressed disbelief. He had challenged my loyalty, and I had answered by placing myself directly under his blade.
"Stay then," he hissed as he turned back to the table. "But if you faint at the sight of these maps, I will leave you where you fall."
"I've seen real blood, My Lord," I whispered to his back, "Ink and paper do not frighten me."
For the rest of the council, he was focused on the map and strategies that were beyond my comprehension.
Yet, despite his steadiness and complete attention, his hand twitched, glancing over his shoulder to ensure I was still there, converted into his shadow, visible, undeniable, and impossible to ignore.
The council had adjourned, but my resolve had not. As Lord Kaldric marched through the corridors of Sernic, was right behind him.
At first, he tried to ignore me. He moved faster, taking stairs two at a time, but I simply lifted my skirts and hurried to keep pace.
When he marched to the war room, I stood silently by the door. When he went to the stables to check the horses, I stood in the shadows.
When he walked the perimeter of the gardens, I followed, my head bowed, my feet treading exactly where his heavy boots had pressed into the dirt.
I didn't speak. I didn't look at the Earl. I didn't even acknowledge Lady Olivine. I became his shadow, silent, obedient, and utterly inseparable from his trail.
Lord Kaldric was losing patience. Every few minutes, he would glance back, expecting me to have wandered off to some luxury.
Instead, he found me there. A small, pink following his every move.
His jaw tightened. His pace quickened. But I did not falter. If he wanted proof of my loyalty, I would give it to him in the only way a man of iron understood: by becoming his burden until he couldn't breathe without seeing me there.
By sunset, the tension between us was doubled. We were alone in the hallway leading to our chambers, the orange light of the sun casting our shadows long against the marble.
"Stop it," he growled, spinning around.
I stopped instantly, three paces away, my hands folded, my eyes fixed on the floor.
"Stop what, My Lord?" I asked softly.
"This! This... haunting. Why are you following me like a dog?"
"I am not a dog, My Lord," I whispered, finally lifting my gaze to meet him. My eyes were dry, my expression as empty as the stone walls.
"I am your shadow. You said you would be watching me. I am simply making it easier for you."
Lord Kaldric looked at me, his breath hitching. For the first time, he looked unsettled, blended with his usual disgust. He had asked for proof, but he hadn't expected the sheer, suffocating weight of my devotion.
I didn't move. Instead, I reached up, fiddling with the brim of the hat he had tied so strictly. I put on a small, pained pout.
"I cannot leave just yet, My Lord. My hat... there is something pricking me in it. It hurts quite terribly."
Kaldric groaned, a sound of deep, spiritual exhaustion. He stepped closer, his shadow covering me.
"Stand still," he grumbled.
His large fingers moved toward my head. The heat of his proximity, the scent of leather and well-fitted noble wear that enhanced his grace enveloping me again, pinning my feet to the ground.
He fumbled with the lace, his movements surprisingly gentle for a man who killed for a living. Finally, he found it, a small, misplaced decorative pin that had bent inward.
"There," he muttered, plucking the pin out and tossing it aside.
He didn't pull back immediately. His thumb brushed against my temple, his silver eyes searching mine for a flicker of the 'ruse' he had engraved in his mind.
His eyes, always on me with nothing but suspicion.
In fact, he searched for chances to yell 'Liar' at my face.
Finding only my quiet gaze, he cleared his throat and slammed the hat back down over my brow, tugging the brim low as per his habit.
"Now, don't appear before me again, Woman," he commanded.
I looked up at him from beneath the brim, a genuine, brave smile touching my lips, "You say this to me quite often, and yet, here I am."
He glared, his jaw tightening as if he was fighting the urge to react to my sudden boldness.
Smiling nervously at my own daring, I gave a small, respectful bow. I silently retreated my steps… because the day had set. The chambers were both of our only destinations.