CHAPTER TEN: Shadows and Goodbyes
The morning sun barely filtered through the heavy mist that blanketed the castle grounds. Training began early, as always. And as always, Esterphania was already at it before her instructor could even scold her into form.
She stood in the courtyard, her crimson training robe swirling in the breeze, face set with fierce determination. The earth was scarred from her repeated attempts to summon a shadow clone—one of the most advanced techniques among her kind.
But no matter how hard she tried, nothing solidified. Only dark smoke. Empty, weightless, and useless.
She hissed through her teeth, dragging her hand in a wide arc again.
Shadow crackled. Swirled. Fizzled.
"Again," she muttered, sweat beading at her brow.
Then came a familiar, arrogant snarl.
"Whimp."
She didn't have to look to know who it was.
Alexander stood at the edge of the training grounds, arms folded, smirking like the smug prince he was.
Esterphania's eyes narrowed. "What do you know?"
Alexander chuckled, stepping forward. "I know you wouldn't be able to do it even if another demon lent you their power."
Her rage surged.
"You—" she spat. "I'll show you, dumb ass!"
She spun, snarled, and thrust both hands forward with such force that even the sky seemed to shiver.
A sound—like tearing reality—rang out.
And there it was.
A perfect replica of herself, made of swirling shadow and fire, stepped from the mist, smirking back at her like a darker twin. Solid. Powerful. Real.
Esterphania's eyes widened in awe. She had done it.
She turned to Alexander, lips curled in triumph. "Ha! In your face!"
But instead of looking annoyed, he simply smirked. "I knew you could do it."
That caught her off guard. Her smile faltered.
And just like that, he turned and walked away, leaving her confused and… weirdly warm.
From behind a column, her instructor observed them with quiet amusement. Those two have a weird relationship, she mused.
---
A week passed.
It was quiet. Too quiet.
Alexander had been distant. Not cold—but reflective, like a man with something heavy on his chest.
And then one evening, instead of being in the throne room as usual, he stood before his father in Lucien's private chamber.
"I'm going on a journey," Alexander said, voice calm.
Lucien raised a brow, setting his wine goblet aside. "What journey are we talking about?"
Alexander met his eyes. "I'm going to eradicate vampires."
The king burst into laughter. "You can't eradicate those insufferable creatures. They multiply like vermin."
"You never know unless you try."
Lucien studied him for a moment. Then sighed. "Seriously, you—" He paused, reading the certainty in his son's face. "Fine. How many years do you need?"
"Ten. No more."
The king stood, towering and stern. "Then promise me—after ten years, success or not, you return. Or you face my wrath."
Alexander smiled faintly. "If you say so, Father. I leave tonight. I'll inform Melody and… Esterphania. Please don't tell anyone else. Not yet."
Lucien nodded, weary. "You're more stubborn than even your mother was."
---
Night fell hard and fast.
The castle slumbered in peace.
But Esterphania was not one to sleep early. She sat by the windowsill of her chamber, flipping through an old magic tome, her red eyes glowing faintly under the candlelight.
A creak. A shift in air.
She moved on instinct.
In one heartbeat, a shadow spear appeared in her hand, and in the next, it was pointed squarely at the throat of the figure standing by her bed.
"Whoa—relax," Alexander said, his hands raised in surrender. "It's just me."
She lowered the spear only slightly. "And why, in the name of all that's sacred, are you sneaking into my room like some thief?"
"To bid you farewell," he said, quiet.
Her expression changed instantly. "What?"
"I'm going on a trip. It might take… years."
"Years?!" she stood abruptly, glaring. "Are you insane?! May I remind you, prince, that you have a kingdom to run?"
"I know," he said softly. "But this… this is necessary."
"You must be the craziest creature alive," she growled.
"You could say that," he said with a weak chuckle. Then his eyes softened. "Take care of Father. Of Melody. Of yourself."
She stared at him, speechless for the first time in days. Then she scoffed, but it was laced with something almost… desperate.
"When are you leaving?"
"Tonight."
She didn't say another word. Just conjured another shadow spear, so sharp and close to his neck that he gulped.
"If you get yourself killed," she whispered coldly, "I swear on my mother, I'll find you in the afterlife and murder you again."
He shivered. "I promise I won't die."
She retracted the spear with a scowl.
"Geez, you can be scary."
"Now leave," she said, turning her back on him. "I don't want to see you anymore."
"I know you'll miss me."
Her red eyes flashed with menace.
"What did you say?"
Alexander laughed nervously and bolted out the door.
---
The next morning was gloomy despite the clear sky.
Melody sat under the willow tree in the royal garden, her face buried in her hands. Her shoulders trembled with silent sobs. Servants whispered, unsure whether to approach.
Esterphania walked past, ready to ignore it, but something… pulled at her. A strange tug in her chest.
She turned around, stiffly.
"What's wrong with you?" she asked, voice awkward.
Melody looked up, eyes red. "It's… Alexander."
Esterphania tensed.
"He left," Melody whispered. "Just a freaking letter. To his fiancée. No goodbye. No explanation. Just… gone."
Her voice cracked. "That jerk. How could he?"
Esterphania blinked. Then blinked again.
"Oh… no… I… I didn't know," she said, attempting surprise. "I'm… err… just as surprised as you are."
It was the worst acting she'd ever done.
Melody wiped her tears. "I'm sorry—I didn't mean to cry like this. It's just—he said he loved me. That we were building something."
Esterphania shifted uncomfortably, hands twitching at her sides.
Should she… pat her back? Say something nice?
"I'm sure he… had his reasons," she muttered.
Melody sniffled.
"I just wish he'd said goodbye."
So did she.
But the only goodbye he'd given… was to her.
And now, the palace halls felt a little quieter. The training field—emptier. The throne beside hers—vacant.
And she hated how much she noticed.