Page 4
Story: His Forbidden Princess
Instead, I wait, listening at her door during the changing of the guard, using the brief handover to press my ear against the wood.
Silence.
Too much silence.
When my replacement arrives, I feign receiving special orders.
"I'm to maintain watch tonight," I tell him. "King's request."
He doesn't question it. No one questions Dain Vorex, the princess's shadow, the scarred guard who speaks only when necessary.
I wait until the corridor empties, then test her door. Unlocked. Wrong. She always locks it.
The chambers are empty, the bed undisturbed. A window stands open, curtains fluttering in the night breeze.
She's gone.
Panic seizes me—not the controlled alertness of a guard, but the visceral terror of a man whose reason for breathing has vanished. I force it down, searching the room for clues.
Her jewelry remains. Good—she's not foolish enough to make herself a target for thieves. The simple clothes she sometimes wears for riding are missing from her wardrobe. A rope of knotted sheets hangs from the window, reaching down to a lower roof.
Clever princess. But not clever enough.
I should sound the alarm. The entire palace guard would mobilize within minutes. She'd be found, returned, protected.
But then she'd never forgive me. And selfishly, brutally, I want her to look at me with something other than the careful distance she's maintained these past years.
I make my decision in seconds. Shrugging off my guard's cloak and sword belt, I keep only my daggers. I pull on a plain black tunic from my own quarters nearby, clothes that will let me blend into the shadows of the city. Then I follow her path down the knotted sheets, tracking her by the faint scuff marks on the rooftops.
She's heading for the eastern gate, the smallest and least guarded. Smart girl. She's studied the palace defenses, probably planned this for months.
I keep to the shadows, twenty paces behind her hooded figure. Close enough to intervene if needed, far enough that she won't sense my presence. She moves with surprising stealth for someone raised in silk slippers and formal processions.
My heart pounds against my ribs, contradictory emotions warring within me. Anger that she would risk herself like this. Pride at her resourcefulness. Fear for her safety in a city where a princess without guards is just a young woman with a pretty face. And underneath it all, a dark, possessive thrill that tonight, she belongs to no one but herself—and me, her unseen guardian.
She slips past the gate guards with a bribed pastry and a story about a sick mother. They let her through without question—twoyoung men too bored and too trusting to recognize royalty in disguise.
I follow, using a different gate where the guard owes me a favor, and emerge into the city proper moments later.
The streets pulse with night life—taverns spilling light and laughter, vendors hawking late dinners to revelers, couples and groups moving from one entertainment to another. And there she is, standing in the middle of it all, head tilted back to look at the stars without a palace roof obstructing her view.
The wonder on her face stops me in my tracks. In that moment, with her hood fallen back and her hair loose around her shoulders, she looks nothing like the contained, proper princess. She looks free. She looks like the woman I see in my most dangerous dreams.
She begins to walk, drinking in the sights and sounds of her kingdom with undisguised delight. I follow, a shadow among shadows.
This is madness. I'm risking everything—my position, possibly my life—by allowing this escapade to continue. If any harm comes to her, my failure would be unforgivable. If we're discovered, the scandal would damage her reputation irrevocably.
I should stop her now. Grab her arm, drag her back to the palace, face her fury but know I've done my duty.
Instead, I watch her run her fingers over market stall fabrics closed for the night. I watch her inhale the scent of street food with closed eyes. I watch her smile—truly smile—at a street musician playing a haunting melody on a battered string instrument.
I've given my life to protecting her body. Perhaps tonight, I'm protecting something equally precious—her spirit.
She turns down an alley leading to the entertainment district, where taverns and gambling houses compete for the coin ofsailors and merchants. Too dangerous. Too many men who would see a beautiful young woman alone as an opportunity.
I close the distance between us, ready to intervene if necessary. Tonight, I’ll be her shadow. I won’t ruin the princess’ night of freedom.
Unless I have to.
Silence.
Too much silence.
When my replacement arrives, I feign receiving special orders.
"I'm to maintain watch tonight," I tell him. "King's request."
He doesn't question it. No one questions Dain Vorex, the princess's shadow, the scarred guard who speaks only when necessary.
I wait until the corridor empties, then test her door. Unlocked. Wrong. She always locks it.
The chambers are empty, the bed undisturbed. A window stands open, curtains fluttering in the night breeze.
She's gone.
Panic seizes me—not the controlled alertness of a guard, but the visceral terror of a man whose reason for breathing has vanished. I force it down, searching the room for clues.
Her jewelry remains. Good—she's not foolish enough to make herself a target for thieves. The simple clothes she sometimes wears for riding are missing from her wardrobe. A rope of knotted sheets hangs from the window, reaching down to a lower roof.
Clever princess. But not clever enough.
I should sound the alarm. The entire palace guard would mobilize within minutes. She'd be found, returned, protected.
But then she'd never forgive me. And selfishly, brutally, I want her to look at me with something other than the careful distance she's maintained these past years.
I make my decision in seconds. Shrugging off my guard's cloak and sword belt, I keep only my daggers. I pull on a plain black tunic from my own quarters nearby, clothes that will let me blend into the shadows of the city. Then I follow her path down the knotted sheets, tracking her by the faint scuff marks on the rooftops.
She's heading for the eastern gate, the smallest and least guarded. Smart girl. She's studied the palace defenses, probably planned this for months.
I keep to the shadows, twenty paces behind her hooded figure. Close enough to intervene if needed, far enough that she won't sense my presence. She moves with surprising stealth for someone raised in silk slippers and formal processions.
My heart pounds against my ribs, contradictory emotions warring within me. Anger that she would risk herself like this. Pride at her resourcefulness. Fear for her safety in a city where a princess without guards is just a young woman with a pretty face. And underneath it all, a dark, possessive thrill that tonight, she belongs to no one but herself—and me, her unseen guardian.
She slips past the gate guards with a bribed pastry and a story about a sick mother. They let her through without question—twoyoung men too bored and too trusting to recognize royalty in disguise.
I follow, using a different gate where the guard owes me a favor, and emerge into the city proper moments later.
The streets pulse with night life—taverns spilling light and laughter, vendors hawking late dinners to revelers, couples and groups moving from one entertainment to another. And there she is, standing in the middle of it all, head tilted back to look at the stars without a palace roof obstructing her view.
The wonder on her face stops me in my tracks. In that moment, with her hood fallen back and her hair loose around her shoulders, she looks nothing like the contained, proper princess. She looks free. She looks like the woman I see in my most dangerous dreams.
She begins to walk, drinking in the sights and sounds of her kingdom with undisguised delight. I follow, a shadow among shadows.
This is madness. I'm risking everything—my position, possibly my life—by allowing this escapade to continue. If any harm comes to her, my failure would be unforgivable. If we're discovered, the scandal would damage her reputation irrevocably.
I should stop her now. Grab her arm, drag her back to the palace, face her fury but know I've done my duty.
Instead, I watch her run her fingers over market stall fabrics closed for the night. I watch her inhale the scent of street food with closed eyes. I watch her smile—truly smile—at a street musician playing a haunting melody on a battered string instrument.
I've given my life to protecting her body. Perhaps tonight, I'm protecting something equally precious—her spirit.
She turns down an alley leading to the entertainment district, where taverns and gambling houses compete for the coin ofsailors and merchants. Too dangerous. Too many men who would see a beautiful young woman alone as an opportunity.
I close the distance between us, ready to intervene if necessary. Tonight, I’ll be her shadow. I won’t ruin the princess’ night of freedom.
Unless I have to.