Shadow
Chapter 9
Aletheia’s Tower (Part 5)
Baron
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Beside Aletheia’s Tower, hidden deep within the vast Forest of Darkness that surrounded the royal palace of Nixara, a calm river stream flowed gently along the rocks.

Behind those dark stones stood a slender young man, his stance noble and sharp like that of a seasoned knight. Shadows curled around him, and his eyes gleamed faintly violet.
He bore a striking resemblance to Prince Evan, yet his facial features were identical to Ivanka’s.

A twisted smirk tugged at his lips as he whispered,

“Ivanka Baron... looks like you’re in trouble. And so is your queen.”

...

Inside Asma’s chamber, she knelt to gather the fragments of a seal scattered all over the floor.
Ivanka’s tone was cautious, as if she recognized it.

“My Queen, keep that safe. It’s very important.”
“Really? Well... it does look like it. I suppose Grandpa must’ve left it for a reason.”

Her gaze shifted to the wardrobe once again as she prepared to return to the tower. Yet, a small flicker of doubt lingered — was her grandfather Samir truly the one who had left the message?

She noticed a folded piece of paper placed above three of her favorite pajamas on the middle shelf. The note didn’t seem ancient — it looked recent, written just before his death.

“My dearest Asma,
You’ll probably miss your favorite pajamas back in Norton. I’m sorry, my sweet granddaughter, but I can’t let you live and marry a human. I won’t let you repeat your father’s tragedy. You’re strong, and your grandpa Felix loves you dearly. Forgive me, my precious one — this is my true name.”

He had signed it Samir, in the same familiar handwriting, and the faint scent of his mint cologne still lingered on the page.

Asma’s eyes welled with tears as every last doubt in her heart dissolved. She pressed a kiss to the letter, took her pajamas, and stepped through the mirror within the wardrobe. Ivanka followed quietly, her heart aching for her grieving queen.

The wardrobe door shut behind them as they vanished into the mirror world—returning once more to Aletheia’s Tower. Asma floated down toward the ground with Ivanka’s help; she still hadn’t learned to fly properly.

...

The moment they exited, Asma—still dazed—collided head-on with a dark figure.
Ivanka gasped and rushed to catch her.

“Your Majesty! Be careful!”

The dark mass was none other than King Shadow’s cloak, drifting above the black mist.
Shadow himself stood upon it, looking down at her with narrowed, icy eyes.

“It seems,” he said in his deep, composed voice, exhaling softly, “that Her Majesty was enjoying herself so much… that her white wings became an inconvenience.”

Asma froze in shock, stepping back instinctively.

“W-When did you get here?” she stammered, clutching the pajamas tight against her chest, hiding the seal and the letters within. Her knuckles turned white from tension.

“I’ve told you before, My Lady,” he said calmly. “I have many eyes — and the most important one watches over you. For your protection, I assure you… on my honor.”

“Y-You mean... you’ve been watching me?”
Her voice trembled, barely coherent. The realization struck her hard — everything that had happened, everything around her — was real. Terrifyingly real.

At his whistle, a swirl of black shadows parted to reveal a knight with pink hair and sharp, masculine features — yet with a face almost identical to Ivanka’s.

“Allow me to introduce,” Shadow said, “my most trusted eye and personal guard — Baron the Thirteenth.”

Asma blinked, stunned.

“You… you look—”
Her voice trailed off as she glanced between Ivanka and the knight, who exchanged tense looks.

“Ivanka Baron! Am I wrong?” Shadow asked, his tone mockingly innocent before smirking darkly.

Asma glared at him.

“Well, Your Majesty, what of it? I went to the tower, but I never left the palace — as ordered! What’s the problem?”

Shadow stared at her in silence for a long moment, his gaze sharp enough to pierce skin. Then, in a quiet, chilling tone, he said:

“Who said there was a problem?”
He looked up toward the sky instead of at her.
“Unless…”

She leaned forward, caught by his words.
Their eyes met — his cold, unblinking — and he continued, his tone now heavy with threat.

“Unless the queen already knows she’s done something wrong.”

“No! I didn’t! I swear—there’s nothing to worry about!”

He smiled faintly.

“I’m not worried. But rest assured, I’ll look into it myself when I return. Until then, you are confined to your chamber. No more wandering about, understood?”

“What? Are you going to have your cursed guard kill me if I disobey?”

Shadow chuckled darkly.

“Exactly.”

Asma’s eyes widened, though she stood her ground.

“That cursed guard of mine,” he said mockingly, “was the one who kept you alive in the infirmary. And this is how you thank him? My Queen truly excels at showing gratitude.”

“You’re a liar! I know you are! And your guard—despite looking like Ivanka—acts nothing like her. I swear they can’t even stand each other!”

Ivanka bowed respectfully, and Asma smiled faintly before turning to face Shadow again.

“Now move aside! I’m not afraid of you. If you’re a real man, face me openly instead of hiding behind orders!”

Shadow’s silence was heavier than anger. He looked ready to bury her right there, his killing intent radiating through the air.

“No reply? Fine! Then I’ll find out the truth myself!”

“What are you holding in your hand?”

Asma flinched.

“None of your business! It’s mine.”

“Nothing is yours here. Not you… nor your grandfather.”

Her breath caught.

“You… know my grandfather? Do you have something against him?”

Shadow turned away, letting out a quiet, bitter laugh.

“How could I not know him, you fool? Why else would you be here?”

Her eyes widened in horror.

“Only a fool doesn’t know his enemy,” he added, his tone dripping with disdain.

Asma’s anger flared.

“It’s getting late. I’ll be leaving now,” Shadow said coolly. “Baron!”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Inform me if Her Majesty amuses herself again.”

“Understood.”

“And make sure she stays in her chamber until I return next week.”

“Am I your prisoner now, you arrogant fool?!” Asma shouted.

“Your Majesty, your voice is too loud,” Shadow said with mocking courtesy. “And remember—you did admit to making a mistake. Those who err must be punished. That’s the law. No exceptions… even for queens.”

He glanced back over his shoulder, smirking.

“Don’t worry. It’s just one week.”

Then, without another word or backward glance, Shadow disappeared behind a curtain of swirling dark veils, leaving her trembling in anger and confusion.

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