Only my wound is enough to battle my desire to see Adrian. When I wake to the morning light, I find that it hurts more than before. In fact, it feels just as it did right when Victor was driving his sword into me. I wait in burning agony until Morwen comes to check on me, at which point she need only take one look at me before scampering off to fetch the royal physician.
He arrives within ten minutes, carrying a leather bag in his hand. He's an older man with a kind disposition, his eyes magnified behind thick lenses. As he examines my wound in complete silence, my trepidation grows. Morwen stands beside me, watching with fear that rivals my own.
Finally, the physician speaks. "You'll be all right," he says. "It'll flare up sometimes. Quite painfully, tooâsuch as right now. But the discomfort will subside in time."
I sigh in relief, then wince at the pain such a simple action causes me. Morwen squeezes my hand, cheerful once more.
The physician digs through his bag for a minute before finally emerging with a small glass tincture, not unlike the one I caught Dustin's blood in. The liquid is clear and, when I pull off the cap, odorless.
"That will help with the pain," he says.
I down it without a second thought.
"It may make you drowsy," the physician continues.
Drowsy? I don't want to sleep now, not when I'm about to send for Adrian. But my eyelids are already drooping, and by the time the physician is gone, I can barely keep them open.
"Morwen," I murmur. My voice is sleepy, too. Everything feels strangely heavy, as though the blood in my veins has been replaced by lead.
"Yes?" She leans down to catch my faint words.
"Tell Adrian..." I am asleep before I can finish.
***
It is violet-tinted dusk when I finally wake. The pain has subsided enough that I can rise from bed and, against my better judgement, stagger through the halls. Passing servants give me concerned looks, but none of them question me as I make my way to Ethel's room. The door is locked, and I have lost my key, so I rap on it until Morwen answers.
She gasps when she sees me. "Should you be out of bed?"
"Never mind," I tell her. "Where is Ethel?"
"At supper."
Using the walls for balance, I stumble to my bedroom and open the wardrobe. As I look through the gowns, I call to Morwen, "Will you send for the prince, please? Tell him to meet me in the garden."
"Certainly." She pauses, watching my laborious movements. "Are you sure you don't require my help, though?"
"Yes," I say stubbornly. "I'd rather not continue to be an invalid."
Morwen sighs. "I'll ask another servant to speak to the prince." She slips away, returning only a few minutes later.
By that time, I am struggling into the pale blue dress that so well matched the wisteria flowers that Adrian put in my hair. The effort makes me sweat, and all my muscles are screaming in protest. But I have to see Adrian, and I have to look presentable when I do.
Silently, Morwen helps me into the dress. Then she sits me down on a soft chair and runs a brush through my hair.
"Do you want me to braid it?" she asks.
"Not tonight," I tell her.
When I am ready, we link arms and walk downstairs. The smooth stone floor is cool against my bare feet. I decided to forgo wearing shoes, as I can barely walk right now, even without the added challenge of heels.
The castle is strangely quiet and dark, with only half of the candlestands and wall-mounted lamps lit and everyone who passes us keeping their mouths pressed together in grim, solemn lines. They are all, including the servants, dressed in mourning black, some of them with their faces covered by veils much like the one Ethel wears. Somehow, I have forgotten about King Thurstan's death. I wonder if my gown is too colorful, if Adrian will take offense to my choice in clothing.
My heart beats, causing painful blood to course through my body. But I forget my pain entirely when I see him.
He's there already, dressed in a formal black suit with silver epaulettes and a leaf-embroidered collar. His back is facing me, and I can see the rose he clutches in one hand. When he hears our footsteps, he turns around, a smile spreading over his face when he recognizes me.
I pull away from Morwen and hurry to him. Before I can say a word, he draws me in to a firm embrace and holds me as tightly as he dares.
"I feared you wouldn't want to see me again," he murmurs into my ear.
I rest my cheek on his shoulder, ignoring the discomfort of his stiff epaulettes. "Why?"
"Because I could not allow you to keep me trapped in a jar."
That makes me laugh, but my mirth is cut off by the pain it causes me. "I would have done exactly the same as you."
He still doesn't release me. I wonder if he's purposely hiding his face from view. "That's not all, Nyx. There remains the matter of how I spoke to you the night before you were abducted."
Finally, he lets go of me and places the soft red rose in my hand. I notice that all the thorns have been cut away.
"You shouldn't be standing right now," he murmurs. Putting an arm around my waist, he leads me to the bench concealed within the eaves of the wisteria tree. Once we are settled, he takes a breath as though he wishes to speak, yet remains silent. Perhaps he doesn't know what to say.
"I was insensitive," I tell him, forcing myself to be nothing but honest. "Your father had just died, and I was so blinded by my hatred for him that I couldn't comprehend your love for him."
Adrian nods. "I am the first to admit that he was a wicked man. But, wicked or no, he was still my father, and left me as the last of my family."
"I'm sorry."
"There's no need for that. He wronged you in life, and deserves none of your regret in death."
I steel myself to give him more of the truth. "Surely you know by now that I am not the duchess's niece."
He raises one dark eyebrow, a mocking smirk sliding onto his lips. "How shocking."
He is infuriating, as always. "Save your ridicule, Silver Prince. My father was a carpenter and my mother a seamstress. They died of consumption, without any means of affording medicine. I, too, am the last of my family." Though the Madden family cannot hold a candle to the Bancroft House. I think of Blythe and add, "I now rent a room in a building in Durnwall. Alone." From a woman who cares about me, I add silently. When I am well enough, I will leave this castle and apologize to her for all the strife I have put her through.
Adrian becomes serious once more. "I am truly sorry for that, Nyx."
"It's one of the reasons why I hated Lady Cordelia so," I admit. "We always struggled for food, and to see how unnecessary it is for her to raise the prices of her goods so high...well, it was uniquely upsetting for me."
Adrian frowns, perplexed. "Cordelia sells produce to Itoria at an exceedingly fair price. It was my father, on Dustin's advice, who then made it exorbitantly expensive for our citizensâespecially those residing in Durnwall, as it is quite far from Bellvemarre."
I am so shocked that it takes me several seconds to process what he's saying. "So none of that was her doing?"
"None."
I stare down at the rose in my hands, ashamed. I hated Cordelia for nothing, even after she was perfectly friendly to me.
Suddenly, I realize that Ingram and the others are not lurking nearby. Finally, the prince and I are able to talk in complete confidence.
"Where are your guards?" I ask.
He laughs. "The perks of being a king, Nyx, are that I was free to dismiss them."
"But who will keep you safe?"
"I am safe, so long as you are by my side."
My face grows warm. None but Adrian can make me feel this way. Bashful, I think it is. "But did you love her?"
"How can I convince you that I did not?"
"I don't know," I tell him. I wonder if there is any way for him to do so. Despite his attestations against his love for her, I still find it difficult to believe.
"You were right," he says quietly. "I told you before that I had given you my all, but I suppose that's not true. And it was unfair to ask for your secrets when I always planned to continue to keep mine. Well, Nyx, I will tell you all there is to know about me, and then you must believe that, despite my colored history, you are the only person that I have ever loved."
His words startle me. "Love?" I whisper.
"Yes," he says, emphasizing the word with a definitive nod. "I love you, Nyx, and while I don't expect you to return my affections, I do ask that you allow me to explain myself."
I stare at him wide-eyed, not trusting myself to speak. In this violet light, sheltered by the flowers of the wisteria tree and dressed in striking black, he has never looked more beautiful.
"I was not born to my father's wife, Queen Isolde, but to another," he says quietly, eyes downcast in shame. "My father loved his wife, but that didn't stop him from patronizing local brothelsâor, more accurately, inviting his favorites to his chambers for long nights of debauchery. One of these women was my mother."
Though I already know, he shouldn't be telling me this information. This could destroy his reputation more than it already is, as well as call into question his claim to the throne of Itoria. But he trusts me. Inexplicably, he trusts me.
Adrian still doesn't meet my eyes while he continues his story. "A prince was born on the day I celebrate my birthday. I was born a day later, in Madame Jeanette's brothel. The queen died in childbirth and the true prince, my father's heir, died a week later. My father took me from my mother's arms and from then on, I was Prince Adrian of Itoria." He pulls the necklace bearing Astoria's likeness from under his jacket and says, "This is all I have left of my true mother. I don't even know if she is alive or dead, but she sent this to the castle with me when my father came to claim me."
"The queen's hair," I murmur. "It matches yours."
He smiles, finally looking at me again. "Is that what bothers you most about this tale? For as long as I can remember, I have been drinking a potion once a month that changes my hair to white, to match the hair of the child that was born to Isolde."
That explains his dark eyebrows. "Your hair is truly black, then."
"Yes, though I have never seen it in its true form myself."
I reach out to touch it, running my fingers through his silken white locks. It's strange to discover that his most distinguishing feature, his hair, is artificialâjust like his birthright. Ironically, it's remarkably fitting to his situation.
His eyes flutter shut for a moment, drawing attention to his dark lashes. Then his silver gaze stays steadily fixed on me. "My father always hated me because I am not of full royal blood. I have never been able to live up to his expectations so, eventually, I quit trying. But his strict hand, encouraged by Dustin, was never still. You asked about the marks on my back, and now I must tell you that they were given by my own father."
I take his long-fingered hand and pull it into my lap, holding it in both of mine. "He will never hurt you again."
Adrian leans forward and plants a light kiss on my lips. "You were right, Nyx," he whispers. "You are my ruin."
I am frozen for several eternal moments. He did recognize me, then. "Adrian..."
His sly grin is back. "Shadow Thief. I knew from the start that you were not the duchess's niece. From yours and her strange behavior, I then realized that you had come to kill me. I didn't know until I saw you standing over Dustin's corpse that you were, in fact, the Shadow Thief. Itoria's most wanted."
My blood runs cold, as though I am wearing the accursed Immaterial Ring again. "I...I..."
He kisses me again. "You saved me, you know. He forced me to sign a contract that gave him full control over my decisions as king, but you saved me."
"I didn't mean to kill him." My voice is abominably weak but, then again, all of me is weak at the moment.
"No, but in doing so you prevented Itoria from crumbling in his hands."
"He told me about the contract," I admit. "And Adrian...he said that you signed it because of me."
A shadow passes over Adrian's exquisite face. "Yes. He threatened to take you from me, whether that be through marriage or death, and my father was on his side."
It's my turn to look down. My loose hair falls forward as I stare at the rose in my lap. Adrian has done so much to save me. Truly, he must love me. How can he love me, though, when I have betrayed him continually? I am entirely undeserving of him.
"You may not be mine," he murmurs, "but I am yours. Heart and soul."
"But not shadow."
He laughs. "No, not shadow." He rests a hand on my face and tilts it upward, leaving me no choice but to look at him. "Tell me if you'll have me, Nyx. If not, I will leave you be. But I must know now, before I fall so deeply for you that I cannot claw my way out again."
I put off answering, just for a few more minutes. "Morwen told me that you remained by my side while I healed."
"As much as I could, yes. I hope you do not find that invasive."
"On the contrary, I think you brought me home."
His smile wavers. Finally, he has sincerely given his all to me. It's strange to see him like this, more exposed than I have ever seen him before. I could ruin him. As the Lord of the Underworld said, I am the scourge of Itoriaâor, at least, I could be. As Dustin said, I have caused Adrian's happiness and I have the power to take it away. Now I see that I don't need to hold Adrian's shadow in my hands to control him. I have his heart, and that is just as goodâif not better. For me, he has spilled the most damning of secrets. For me, he has risked his freedom. For me, he has behaved in ways unbefitting a prince or a king, without considering the consequences. Is that because I am the consequence? Am I worth so much to him?
I remember that I must face myself. "I am worth nothing," I tell him plainly. "I cause pain to everyone I meet. You could have me executed as the Shadow Thief, and it might be in your best interests to do so."
He blinks. "Have you not heard a word that I said, Nyx? Did you not read a word that I wrote? I am entirely and endlessly devoted to you. Any wrong that you have done me is forgotten."
"Why?" I ask. "I can't understand why you love me." In my eyes, there is nothing to love.
Adrian has become exasperated. He squeezes my hand. "You never treated me as a prince, Nyx, but as an equal. There is more value in that than you can ever know. You never spoiled me, nor felt any unwarranted obligation towards me. When you came to me, you did so on your own terms. If I did something that you disliked, you told me so without a moment's hesitation. Whenever I am with you, I feel as though I must make an effort to be more than a shallow prince. I have to be greater than what I was always told that I was, by virtue of my birth. You do not worship me for no reasonâin fact, you do not worship me at all. Instead, you see me for what I truly am." He hesitates. "And I am a boy without a father, a prince still learning to lead, and, above all...I am a man bewitched by you."
I am stunned. In my unfortunate lack of eloquence, all I can say is, "I love you, too, Adrian."
He relaxes into a broad, genuine smile. "Then will you stay here with me? You will have your pick of the rooms, and anything you ask will be given to you. No one need ever know that you were once the Shadow Thief, for I hereby pardon all of your crimes by virtue of your service to the crown."
I want to stay. I want to live in the sunlight with him and leave the shadows behind. But I fear that I will grow bored, that I will feel trapped in this massive castle, and that I will grow to resent both myself and him. Is this the right place for me? After seventeen years of struggling on the streets of Durnwall, can I live the rest of my years in luxury?
"What will I do with my time?" I ask.
"I need advisors," he tells me. "You will be one of them, since you have a different perspective of Itoria than anyone else that I have met. And we cannot dismiss your dangerous prowess with weapons. I do require a new guard."
The thought delights me. I will never have to leave Adrian's side. And my skills are uniquely suited towards being his guard. "All right then," I say in as casual a voice as I can muster. "Have your way, Silver King. I'll stay here with you."
Adrian can hardly contain himself, and neither can I. His arms are around me, drawing me as close to him as possible, and mine are locked around him in an unrelenting embrace. Our mouths fit together in a kiss, as though this is what they were made to do, as though the gods created us for one another.
There is love again. At long last, I have found the place that I belong.
THE END.