Bound by Shadows

The library was one of the few places in the palace where I could think. Its towering shelves, packed with everything from ancient histories to books on farming techniques, felt like walls of protection. Here, I didn't have to think about laws, suitors, or the man currently following me like a particularly brooding shadow.

I reached for a book on the top shelf, balancing precariously on the tips of my toes.

"Do you need help with that?" Torin's voice came from behind me.

"No," I said, trying not to fall over as I stretched higher. "I've been reaching for things my entire life, believe it or not."

He didn't respond, but I heard him step closer. Before I could protest, his hand brushed past mine and plucked the book effortlessly from the shelf.

I turned to glare at him. "You realize I was perfectly capable of doing that myself?"

"Of course." He handed me the book, his expression unreadable. "But I'm here to make your life easier."

"By undermining my ability to grab a book?"

"If that's what it takes."

I narrowed my eyes at him but didn't respond. There was no point. Torin wasn't just stubborn—he was infuriatingly calm about it, which made him impossible to argue with.

I carried the book to a nearby table, flipping it open and trying to focus on the pages. Torin stood a few feet away, his arms crossed as he watched the door.

"Do you ever get tired of standing there like a statue?" I asked, not looking up.

"Not really."

"Must be nice," I muttered.

Silence stretched between us, broken only by the rustle of pages as I turned them. For a moment, I thought I might actually have a reprieve from his incessant commentary.

"Why do you hate the idea of a guard so much?" he asked suddenly.

I blinked, caught off guard. "I don't hate the idea of a guard. I hate the idea of needing one."

"Why?"

I sighed, closing the book and looking up at him. "Because needing a guard implies I'm weak. I've spent my whole life trying to prove I'm not."

His gaze softened, just a little. "Sometimes strength isn't about doing everything alone."

"Easy for you to say," I shot back. "You're not the one who has to convince an entire kingdom that you're capable of ruling it without a husband."

He didn't respond immediately, and for a moment, I thought I'd shut him up for good. But then he surprised me.

"When I was a kid," he began, his voice quieter than usual, "my mother used to take me and my sisters to different towns. She said it was important to understand how people lived if you were going to protect them."

I tilted my head, caught off guard by the vulnerability in his tone. "That's... surprisingly wise."

He smirked faintly. "She was a wise woman. She believed that strength wasn't just about power—it was about empathy. Understanding. Sacrifice."

I leaned back in my chair, studying him. "Sounds like she was a good teacher."

"She was." His expression darkened slightly, and I caught a glimpse of something I hadn't seen before. Pain.

"What happened to her?" I asked softly.

"She died when I was seventeen," he said simply. "Along with one of my sisters."

I hesitated, unsure what to say. For all our banter, I hadn't expected this level of honesty from him.

"I'm sorry," I said at last.

He nodded, his gaze distant. "It was a long time ago."

The silence that followed was heavy, but not uncomfortable. For the first time, I saw Torin as more than just my guard or an infuriating presence. He was someone who had lived, who had lost, and who carried those losses quietly.

"You don't talk about her much, do you?" I asked.

"No," he admitted. "But you remind me of her sometimes."

I blinked. "Me?"

"She was stubborn," he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Independent. Always trying to prove she could do everything on her own."

I couldn't help but laugh. "And you think I'm stubborn?"

"I know you're stubborn," he said, his tone teasing.

For a moment, the weight between us lifted, replaced by something lighter. Something almost... comfortable.

"Maybe," I said, standing and closing the book, "I'll consider letting you do your job without constant commentary. For today, at least."

He raised an eyebrow. "That's generous of you."

"Don't get used to it," I warned, brushing past him as I headed for the door.

As I walked away, I couldn't help but glance over my shoulder. Torin followed, as always, but this time, his presence didn't feel quite so intrusive. For the first time, I wondered if having him around might not be the worst thing in the world.