Shadowed

by Tara Jadestone

  “No, I am the youngest! I am Dillon and I am seven!”

  I smiled at him, and he grinned, and then raced over to my side. “Duchess Mel, are you hurt?” He pointed at the slash in my armor.

  “Oh no, I am not hurt. I was attacked by a Dark– evil man.” Dillon’s eyes widened. “It is all right,” I assured him. “The evil men are gone now. We defeated them.”

  “Was our father at the battle, Duchess?” His gray eyes told me it was Silas.

  “Yes. He was wounded, but I expect that he will be fine.”

  “I wish he allowed us to fight,” I took the sight of the gold armband: Tristan. Gray-eyed Silas nodded with him. “At nineteen, we are men. We could have helped.”

  “Your father risked his life there. I do not believe that he would want you to do the same,” I said.

  “But a mere girl like you was there!” Tristan said, the jealousy clear in his voice. “What could you have done that we could not?”

  “She’s Duchess Mel! She can do anything!” Dillon exclaimed, making me smile at his defense for me. Tristan’s face reddened, and he mumbled an apology.

  I fought the urge to grin. My title as Duchess had put him into place.

  “Boys, supper is ready! Wash up before you sit at the table!” Reya said from the doorway. She had composed herself, showing no tears from before. “And Melanie, love, please join us.”

  Dillon grabbed my hand and ran towards the kitchen. When we entered, the table was already set up.

  “Mama, look! Duchess Mel was attacked by an evil man!” He pointed to my armor. Reya set down the ladle in her hand to walk over for a closer look.

  “Let me have you changed into something, alright, love?”

  “Oh no, please do not trouble yourself over me,” I protested.

  Reya pushed me towards another room. “Nonsense, love, this is the least I could do for you.”

  She had me change into a spring green dress, which was pretty enough, but Reya was both shorter and larger in build than I was. To accommodate this, she had to tighten the strings of the corset, but the hem of the dress rested at my shins.

  “This is not necessary, Reya,” I pleaded. Being treated as if she knew me, despite having just met, felt more than just a little strange.

  “Duchess, do not fret. I owe you more than just a change of dress for saving Tiran’s life,” she said with a smile. “If only he were here to see you. It would have made him so happy to see you with us.” Knowing I could not disagree with that, I nodded and joined her as she walked back to the kitchen.

  Dining with Tiran’s family was a nice change from all the formal meals I was used to. There were not a dozen different spoons and platters of food to choose from, but it was just as good a treatment as the Palace’s. And I adored Dillon especially; he was the only one who shared his father’s ability to keep my spirits high.

  But I could not shake the feeling that my staying here was wrong, that I was spending careless moments with Tiran’s family when more important things were at stake. Yet I could not bring myself to leave, not when Reya and her sons needed a distraction to keep their minds off of Tiran’s ailing health.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  THE BATTLE OF LIFE

  As time passed, I found myself with Dillon’s sleeping head on my lap. Reya was busy drying the dishes and adjusting things here and there while the four boys were all in a heated discussion on who would inherit their father’s magical abilities. And guessing by how Reya rolled her eyes at the topic discussion, I could only assume it was not the first time they had argued over the idea.

  “Being the eldest, sooner or later you will see me in the Royal Guard with Father,” Eryk said triumphantly. His three brothers began to object.

  “If that were true, should you not have magic powers by now?” Tristan countered.

  “And should you have magic, there is no reason for us not to have it either,” Radley said.

  Silas shook his head. “I am more different than the rest of you. And I expect myself to be the one with magic.”

  “If anyone, Dillon would have magic,” I said to myself, watching his sleeping face. Selenah could perform magic ever since she could walk. With Dillon being the only one still a child, it was more than likely the four boys had missed their magical awakening.

  “How so?”

  I looked up shocked, eyes wide. I had not realized that I had spoken aloud.

  “He is more like his father than the four of you,” was all I could manage. Reya chuckled at this while the four boys frowned.

  Melanie.

  I turned around, facing the door.

  “Did someone call for me?” I furrowed my eyebrows.

  The boys shook their heads, as did Reya.

  Melanie.

  Melanie.

  Reya walked over to me, worried. “What is it, Melanie?”

  Melanie.

  “Someone is calling my name,” I whispered. The voice sounded distant and I could not recognize who the speaker was. “Please, take Dillon. I am going back to the King’s Castle.”

  As I tried to stand up, Dillon grasped my arm, refusing to leave. It was a wonder, for he was still asleep.

  “At this time of night? You cannot go alone,” Reya said. “Eryk, take her and Dillon.” Eryk nodded.

  “Mother, I would like to go see Father as well!” Silas, Tristan, and Radley chorused. Reya rolled her eyes.

  “No, I cannot have you all there, besieging the King’s Castle. Eryk is to take her there, and Radley can lead the carriage. Come back safely.” Silas and Tristan muttered to themselves but remained seated as Eryk and Radley stood up to obey their mother.

  I lifted Dillon into my arms and was careful not to wake him. Eryk and I made our way outside where we waited as Radley, on the coachman’s seat, drove a carriage from a nearby inn towards us. Eryk opened the door for me and following in after I did. Reya waved goodbye and the horses took off.

  Melanie!

  I shut my eyes for a second, hoping that whoever was calling me could wait. The voice sounded distressed.

  “Dillon is enamored by you,” Eryk said as he sat down beside me. “Only father can put him to bed.”

  I opened my eyes and smiled down at Dillon. He looked so peaceful in his sleep, but there was something about the way he was gripping my sleeve, as if he were holding onto his life desperately.

  Hurry, Mel!

  I shut my eyes again. The voice had gotten much louder. And…familiar? I looked down at Dillon. I wondered if the voice I was hearing was linked to him somehow.

  “Is something wrong?” Eryk asked, studying my face.

  I shook my head. Whose voice is it?

  We sat in silence until the carriage slowed to a halt.

  “We have arrived!” Radley announced, pulling open the door.

  Eryk stepped off and held out a hand. I put my hand in his and held on tightly, so I would not drop Dillon or trip over my own feet. Now outside the castle, I was surprised to see that there were no King’s Guards to stop or question us.

  Come now, Mel, to the Throne Room.

  This time, the last command was clear, as if the person were speaking right in front of me.

  I did as Tiran told me, rushing into the castle grounds as fast as I could with Dillon in my arms. Something was wrong.

  When we reached the Throne Room, the injured Royal Guards were still being treated for their wounds. I could see that many of the King’s guard were also asleep and those who were awake were standing by the wounded. Seeing a gathering of nurses near Tiran, I quickened my pace. He instantly caught sight of us.

  “Mel…Dillon?” Tiran sat upright, his abdomen and leg wrapped with bandages.

  I put Dillon down beside him and the boy complied. Tiran’s eyes watered at the sight of his sons and he kissed Dillon’s head.

  “Thank you, Mel…but I did not call you here for me.”

  I cocked my head to the side, confused. “I called you here because of the Archduke.�
�

  I inhaled sharply and turned to Owen, now realizing that he was the reason why the nurses had gathered. They parted as I approached slowly, denying the thought that I could lose Owen. Again. When it finally occurred to me that he lay dying, I rushed to his side, taking his hand in mine. The nurses had cleaned up the dirt and sweat from his face but it did not stop my heart from racing. Seeing him like this…worrying about being able to have him be himself again…it was all too familiar.

  “Owen?”

  His eyelids fluttered open at the sound of my voice. Upon seeing me, he began to force himself in an upright position. I helped him up.

  “Hey, everything is going to be–”

  “No, Melanie, I do not think I will make it this time,” he whispered, sharply cutting me off.

  I trembled but brought his hand to my cheek. It was ice cold.

  “I do not want to hear you say that,” I said, swallowing back the rising fear in my throat. “You are going to be fine.” But Owen shook his head. I gripped his hand tighter, desperate to make him believe he had a chance. “Owen, you cannot give up on yourself. Please.”

  Owen took my hand to his lips and kissed it. I froze. Owen confessed that he loved someone…and that he wanted her to be his wife.

  I drew back the hand he held and brought it to my lap. My next words would surely unveil the mystery girl he loved. And as much as I knew it would hurt me to hear aloud that he loved another, this girl deserved to know Owen cared for her, especially if it were to be his last words.

  “Owen,” I started, forcing myself to look him in the eye as I spoke, “you told me you were too afraid to tell the girl you loved to be your wife. Promise me you will fight to live, and I promise you that I will bring her here, by your side.” Owen’s eyes widened at my pledge, but he remained silent. “Please, just let me know her name,” I begged. “How could you leave her without letting her know that you love her?”

  “Melanie,” he whispered. “Her name is Melanie.”

  I gaped, dumbstruck, and my heart– I could not tell what I felt. Did he mean me?

  “Owen–?”

  “Your highness, it is best if he lies down,” one of the nurses interrupted me.

  Red-faced, I and moved away to let her situate him on the floor. When she moved away, I hesitated. But I settled by his side again, confused as to what he had just said.

  “Owen, her name is Melanie? Like mine?” I felt my cheeks burn hotter as my tongue slipped out the last question. Owen smiled, and I felt my eyes water.

  “Yes,” he said, reaching out to take my hand. “Just like yours.”

  My heartbeat quickened, and I stared at our joined hands. Her name is Melanie.

  “Owen…are you talking about me?” I whispered. Owen closed his eyes, turning his head towards the ceiling.

  “Yes.” He was still smiling. It was a look of absolute peace. “The girl I love is you, Melanie.”

  Owen turned his head back and opened his eyes. He gazed at me with an expectant look; waiting for me to repeat the words he had told me. But I swallowed hard and did not –could not– speak. Instead, I leaned down and kissed his fevered forehead, too stunned to do or say anything else. Below me, I felt his body relax and his breathing slow.

  “Melanie, promise me that…you will remember me.”

  I pulled back, frightened by what he had just said.

  I quickly looked around. Where is Selenah? I thought frantically. Where is the vial of liquid that had saved him before? Surely Selenah would have recovered from her injuries and have it sent any moment now. I turned back to look down at Owen.

  “You are not going anywhere, Owen, and neither will I.” I need to stall him, just enough to get Selenah here.

  Owen did not reply and instead, hissed, grabbing a hold of his leg. My heart skipped a beat. He glanced up; his eyes bright as he saw the tears stream down my face. It was unbearable to watch him suffer.

  “May I see you happy?” he whispered. I forced a smile through my tears for his sake. The edge of his lips curled, just the slightest. “Promise me,” he mumbled, closing his eyes, “you will be here if I wake up…”

  “I promise, Owen.”

  For a moment, I thought he was gone. But I saw his chest rise and fall in a slow, rhythmic pattern and sighed in relief.

  I looked at his leg wound, and cursed the Dragon, although dead, for doing this to him.

  One of the nurses came by and asked if he had passed away. I shook my head, and she smiled a bright, kind smile that made me do the same. The nurse then inquired about his consciousness –if Owen was able to speak without slurring or stuttering and if he understood everything I was saying– and later said a few physicians would be arriving from another town soon when the roads opened up as early as tomorrow to check on him.

  Hearing that, I wanted to cry with happiness. Owen will be all right.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  BRUTALITY OF WAR

  I was barely awake myself, teetering from consciousness and sleep when Owen stirred. It brought me to full alertness when I saw that he was waking up. He squinted up at me.

  “Melanie…?”

  “Right here,” I whispered, blinking furiously to beat the tiredness out of my eyes. I absently brushed a strand of hair away from his face.

  “Duchess, I shall take it from here,” I heard someone say. I looked up and saw a physician flanked by two nurses. “Please rest. I am sure it is the best you can do for him now.”

  Carefully, they placed him onto futon bedding to move him onto a real bed. The other two nurses sent me to a chamber where they helped me undress and let me sleep with encouraging words that they brought supplies to make antidotes for all those who remained poisoned. I thanked them profusely, even after they had left, grateful for the hope of Owen’s recovery.

  ****

  I awoke some hours later. The sun had not fully reached its zenith when I dressed and was allowed into Owen’s chamber. By the small smiles the nurse had given me, I assumed that he was doing all right.

  He was asleep when I entered. His breathing seemed normal, with occasional quick gasps for air, but his skin was still too pale. I tensed as I sat down beside him, remembering that he confessed to being in love with me, and felt my face burn. The first time Owen had risked his life, I learned to see him as the friend he saw in me. And now?

  “Please, Owen,” I whispered, leaning over to wipe his feverish brow. “Recover quickly.”

  He made no response.

  The two nurses came to check up on me periodically to bring in rationed food and ask if there were any changes in Owen’s health. I also asked them for directions to the King’s Castle library. I planned to read up on anything that resembled a cure for a poisoned bite from a magical dragon. Although the nurses had told me about their antidotes, I could not help but worry it was not enough. The physicians had never dealt with poisons from a magical beast before.

  The shelves at the King’s Library were toppled and books scattered from the invasion of the Castle. Despite this, the nurses and I were able to salvage some books that showed promise. With them in hand, I went back to where Owen was so I could read while staying by his side.

  Owen finally stirred by evening. My heart raced and I gripped my hands in anticipation of him finally opening his eyes. He blinked several times before actually seeing me. When he smiled up at me, it warmed my heart.

  “How do you feel?” I asked, leaning forward a bit.

  “All right,” he whispered.

  “Here, drink some water,” I said, turning to grab the cup from the bed stand and putting the glass of water to his lips.

  I carefully let it fall into his mouth. “Are you hungry?”

  He shook his head and stared up at the ceiling. “How is everyone else?” he asked. “How is…Tiran? His family? And of mine?”

  “They are all well,” I said, unable to withhold a smile, though it did not last very long. “But we have been on our own for the most part. No word yet f
rom Selenah, the Prince, or of the King’s situation.”

  Owen nodded, turning his head to face me. He took my hand and held onto it tightly. I knew what was coming.

  “I love you,” he whispered, just as he did the night before.

  “Owen…” I stopped and bit my lip. He watched me expectantly, his eyes wondering one thing: Why had not said those three words in return? But I knew why. I am not ready to say it. “I am sorry,” I said, glancing down at my hands. Owen said nothing in response. Uncomfortable, I began to stand up.

  “Melanie,” he started, making me stop. “May I ask…for whatever reason you have decided to stay here, would you continue to remain by my side through this?”

  I sat back down. “I promise.”

  Just then, someone knocked on the door. I got up to allow them in.

  I smiled at the visitors. Tiran was using a wooden crutch to walk in slowly –with a metal brace tied around his abdomen– and Dillon raced over once the door had opened.

  “Duchess Mel!” he exclaimed waving at me. But he gaped at the sight of Owen lying on the bed.

  “This is the Archduke, the King’s nephew,” I told Dillon. “And this is Dillon, Tiran’s son,” I said to Owen.

  “It is nice to meet you, Sir Archduke,” Dillon said walking over to Owen and outstretching a hand like a gentleman.

  Owen smiled and shook Dillon’s hand. “Likewise, Sir Dillon,” he replied with a smile. Dillon giggled at the formal name. Tiran stood off, watching. I turned to address him.

  “You should be sitting down,” I said. “And not be walking on your leg so soon.”

  “Papa is strong. He can stand and walk just fine,” Dillon said defensively.

  “I am sure he is, Dillon,” I agreed, looking at Tiran sternly. If his wound was anything like Owen’s, he had to be careful.

  Tiran nodded and turned a desk chair around to gently lower himself onto it.

  “Dillon, why not give Duchess Mel what Lady Selenah gave us?” he said.

  My eyes widened. Selenah was here? Did she bring the liquid that could heal Owen?

  Dillon nodded at his father’s words and retrieved a silver chain from the pocket of his breeches. My heart plummeted. A necklace. It had a diamond bird on it, its wings splayed out, ready to take flight. Dillon scrambled up onto a chair to reach my height and clasp it around my neck.