Bound by Shadows

Torin

The morning sun cast its pale light over the castle grounds, but the day felt colder than usual. I stood in the courtyard, arms crossed, eyes scanning the group of guards before me. Each man and woman waited for orders, but my mind was elsewhere—lost somewhere on the roads that stretched beyond Eldora's borders.

Two days.

It had been two days since she vanished, and in those forty-eight hours, I'd barely slept. Not because anyone expected me to, though the king and queen had made it clear that finding their daughter was my top priority. No, this was personal.

I hadn't realized how much I'd come to care about her until she was gone.

Not just as a duty, though I'd spent years drilling myself to think that way—to keep emotions in check, to never let anyone in. But Aspin was different. She always had been.

It felt suffocatingly silent without her.

Her stubbornness drove me insane most days, but I couldn't deny the spark in her eyes when she challenged me, the quiet strength beneath her sharp words. Somewhere along the way, I'd stopped seeing her as just a job.

And that was the problem.

"Sir?" one of the guards interrupted my thoughts.

I blinked, straightening. "Spread the search further," I said, my voice even. "She's clever, but she's not invincible. Check every village, every road leading to Olinn's border. Someone must have seen her."

The guard saluted, and I turned away, jaw clenched.

Olinn.

I didn't have proof, but something told me that's where she was headed. She'd been restless lately, more so than usual. Always asking questions about the outside world, about Olinn specifically. I should have seen it coming, but instead, I'd let her outsmart me.

Damn it, Aspin. What were you thinking?

I ran a hand through my hair, frustration simmering beneath the surface. She was impulsive, yes, but this wasn't just about her recklessness. She was calculating when she needed to be. Whatever she was doing, she had a plan—half-baked as it probably was.

And, as much as it infuriated me, there was a part of me that admired her for it.

"Torin."

I turned to see the queen approaching, her face drawn with worry. Behind her, the king paced, his hands clasped tightly behind his back.

"Any news?" the queen asked, her voice trembling slightly.

"Not yet, Your Majesty," I said, bowing my head. "But we're expanding the search. She'll be found."

The queen nodded, but her shoulders sagged. "She's clever," she murmured, echoing my thoughts. "Always so clever."

"She's more than clever," the king said, his voice gruff. "She's willful. That girl has always done what she wanted, consequences be damned."

My chest tightened. They didn't blame me—not outwardly, at least—but I blamed myself. I'd been charged with her safety, and I'd failed.

"I'll bring her back," I said firmly, meeting the king's gaze. "No matter what."

The king studied me for a moment before nodding. "See that you do."

⸻

As the day stretched on, I found myself pacing the castle halls, my mind running in circles. Memories of Aspin flickered in and out, unbidden.

The way she'd stood her ground during court, calm and composed despite the sea of suitors before her. The way her eyes had lit up during our sparring matches when she landed a particularly clever retort. The way her voice softened when she spoke about her people, her kingdom.

I hadn't realized how much I'd noticed about her. How much I'd cared.

And now she was out there, alone.

I shoved the thought aside, forcing myself to focus. She'd gotten past me once, but I wouldn't let it happen again.

⸻

As night fell, I gathered my team in the war room. Maps of Eldora and Olinn spread across the table, marked with the paths we'd already searched.

"We need to think like her," I said, tracing a route with my finger. "She knows the border will be guarded. If she crossed, she'd have done it somewhere quiet, somewhere less obvious. Focus here—these side paths. Look for signs of travel. If she's moving quickly, she'll leave a trail."

The guards nodded, their faces grim but determined.

"And remember," I added, my voice hardening, "she's resourceful. Don't underestimate her. If you find her, you report back to me immediately. Do not engage unless absolutely necessary."

⸻

Hours later, I stood alone on the castle battlements, staring out at the dark horizon. The air was cool, the stars sharp against the inky sky.

I couldn't stop replaying our last conversation in my head—the way she'd dismissed my warnings, the stubborn set of her jaw.

Why can't you just let someone help you, Aspin? Why do you have to carry everything alone?

But even as the thought crossed my mind, I knew the answer. It was the same fire that made her impossible to guard—the same fire that made her who she was.

I leaned against the stone wall, my fingers gripping the edge tightly.

"I'll find you," I murmured to the night. A promise to her and myself.