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If Shadow were to be caught in the act, it wouldn't simply be trespassing, it'd be treason, and they'd have every right to take his head for it. With full intention, he aimed to steal the princess that fateful night. The princess that— often, he needed to remind himself— was property of the kingdom he swore to protect.
It was not his original intent to become a criminal. In fact, he had first been a victim in the ordeal, when, upon arriving at the castle last spring, he had been introduced to her, as was customary. Hundreds of knights had looked into her eyes, bowed their heads, and had yet resisted the thieving nature of her softened glance. With those satin-gloved hands of hers, she had stolen the beating heart from his chest. Yes, in that way, Shadow was all but justified in doing what he came to do.
He knew the layout of the castle like the back of his hand. The entrance to her personal quarters, the budding garden her father had planted for her (hoping to coax her eyes back to her royal duties), the humble library where she spent much of her time. However, he'd be spotted off-duty should he risk roaming those halls. As he did often now, his only choice was to scale to her window.
His hands had become familiar with each brick, each tangled vine that stretched to the shingled roof above where she slept. If he was lucky, he'd spot her peaceful face before she woke to spot him. Unlucky he was, though, as he swiftly rose several stories to the opened window, there she was. Her wistful gaze, with her head cocked toward the ebbing shore, her pink hair ruffled and tireless like tangled wisteria. The herbalists that served the king were constantly seeking out the flower, claiming it could be used to brew love potions, but there she was, hoarding it all.
Shadow swung out his leg, planting his foot gently on her tiled floor. That small noise was all it took to catch her attention. Her eyes popped open, as if she had nearly fallen asleep waiting for him, and a large smile crossed her lips as she rose from her linen sheets.
"You're here." If they had been anywhere else, or perhaps anyone else, she may have screamed those words. Unfortunately, it was but a dampened whisper. She blinked a few times, seeming to take in his appearance with the shattered light of her room, before her smile dropped. "You know you can't stay long."
Was she chiding him? Challenging him? He'd live every moment of his life lying beside her if permissible. They both knew the hurdles that came with that desire. "Tomorrow morning, then? You're really going to marry that fool?"
"A fool?" She lifted a brow, paused a moment to think, and wiped the exhaustion from her eyes. "Yes— perhaps that's true. But he's a noble. I won't want for much, even after leaving the comforts of this castle." Upon hearing the words pass her lips, her face contorted, as if she'd tasted something far too bitter. "I won't miss these barren walls, nor the garden. I won't even miss seeing the hustle and bustle of the ports from my window. Not nearly as much as I'll miss these moments— whatever we have left to cherish."
The crack of her voice caused his breath to halt in his chest. It wasn't the first time she had shed tears over this inevitability, but by Chaos, he needed it to be the last. Breaking every code he had sworn to, he took her in his arms, cupping her dampened cheek in his hand.
His voice came out far more uncertain than he intended. "How long do we have, then?"
Her breathing evened out, slow and steady like the tide she watched from her prison in the sky. Leaning into his touch, she blinked away tears. "My lady-in-waiting will arrive to escort me and my belongings at dawn."
"Rose," he began, "You'll have new walls at the manor of this man's choosing— a thousand ports to watch over, and a thousand windows to do so with— but will you find a new knight to hold you like this?"
The idea seemed to surprise her, as she gave a curt laugh. "I deign to entertain the idea of even this noble stranger being within arm's reach, nevertheless addressing me as his wife."
And then he asked the unspoken question. "Do you truly believe you'll find happiness there?"
It was a long time until she could manage to form a reply. Usually, her chambers would be filled with the sounds of distant music, but in the silence of this humid summer evening, Shadow could only hear the thrumming of his own heart in his ears.
"Must you ask this question again?" Faux anger laced into her speech, into her uneven smirk. Shadow could tell at a glance; the only annoyance she seemed to derive from the constant questioning was how it caused her to visibly second-guess every thought and motion she had previously made. Her fingers twitched, as if unsure of their place until they found a home on his chest. "My duties as a princess outrank my own feelings."
Duties. How he hated the very concept, how the syllables formed on her lips when she recited the same lines that had been broken into her since the moment she could form a sentence. Every citizen in the entire country could decide who they'd like to be or where they'd like to go, except for the one who desired that freedom the most.
Shadow couldn't hold back the furrow of his brow. "You'd give up everything between us to fulfill some promise your father made? To be thrust into another tower? Being escorted from one prison to the next— it's no life for a woman like you."
"It's exactly the life for me, unfortunately." With sudden clarity, she turned her eyes to his, her expression steeled. "You're a knight. You'll live your life protecting the people dwelling here. And then, one day, you'll marry a chambermaid— or perhaps, if you're lucky— you'll sweep the daughter of a baron or viscount off their feet." A smile crossed her lips. "Give it a year, a decade… You'll forget me. You'll keep only the fond memories of this secret we share."
The burning in his chest caused his vision to blur. Was he tearing up? If so, it only added to the blindness of his fury. Sucking in a shaky breath, he squeezed her tightly. He couldn't commit every detail to memory. There wasn't enough room in his heart to hold the image of her crystal eyes and rosy cheeks.
The words felt like fire on his tongue as he whispered into her ear. "Run away with me."
Perhaps, for a brief moment, Amy could manage to convince herself he had uttered a joke in poor taste, but as time went on, Shadow never offered a snide remark for confirmation. Her look of shock morphed into confusion. "That's treason, Shadow. They'd kill you if they ever found us—"
"Then they never will," he interrupted. Fingering his pocket (praying that it hadn't fallen out during his climb up), Shadow procured something precious. A ring, humble and sparse of jewels, but worth everything in his eyes. "I know this isn't enough— not for a princess, not for someone as beautiful as you, but—" His mouth felt suddenly dry. He swallowed. "I need you to accept it."
Her cheeks reddened, and she forced her gaze anywhere else but his piercing eyes. "Odd to make demands of a princess, especially as one that's supposed to serve."
"I'm not demanding. I'm begging." On any other occasion, Shadow would hesitate to lower himself for anyone else in the world, but for her, he fell to one knee. "Marry me, Rose. I'll take you to the farthest reaches of the earth, wherever you'd like to go. Any town, any port, any ocean. I hold a lower position than any noble— I'm only a man— but I'll do anything to build a home with you, far from here."
Another smile crept along her face as he spoke, but she forced it down, glancing at the rolling hills far along the horizon. The sun, lavender and distant, began to sneak its way into view. Her eyes snapped back to him. "And you're acceptant of the risks? Of the misery that could befall you?"
A small chuckle escaped his chest. "Whether it be ten minutes from now, or sixty years, a life lived with you will be far greater than the death I have already experienced, imagining you in the arms of another. I will be no more than bone and ash should you not accept. In that sense, could you spare some mercy? Or do you intend to have me grovel at your feet?"
"No groveling," she groaned. "You certainly intend to make our life together interesting. That much I've come to expect from you."
Shadow nearly shouted, but held down his voice. "You'll marry me then?"
A small nod. "Yes, but—"
With brazen joy, he leapt to his feet, sweeping her into his arms. He hushed her surprised squeal and the giggle that burst from her chest, as he pressed his lips to hers. Blindly, he found her ring finger, and slipped on the golden ring. He held her hand, warmed her cool skin; she was his. He found he longed for nothing else then.
She parted from his affection with hesitation, only to gaze once again at the brightening sky. "It's nearly dawn. They'll be expecting me soon."
"Then we'll go," he replied. "Leave no note. It's better they have no clue of where we went." He scanned over the room, across every piece of ornate jewelry and her wardrobe full of gowns. "Do you wish to bring anything along?"
She grinned wildly and swung her arms behind his head. "Everything here is but an artifact of the life I lived before you. Let it remain buried."
"So be it." Shadow, the thief that he became in that moment, stole another kiss from her. "Have you ever climbed out a window before?"
"Never in my life," she replied, "but there's no time like the present."
And so with great caution, Shadow led her through the open window, down the vine-covered wall, and guided her gently as her feet met ground. He gazed out at the newly born sky, still young and plentiful with its opportunities for the day— for their life together— and his breath hitched.
This path held every risk, and yet, it was the only road he could see himself traveling. Even though he was the one who would lead her past the borders she had never crossed, she was guiding him there in a way. All was inevitable. And Shadow had readily accepted his fate long ago.