Shadow
Chapter 16
Split of the Crown (7)
A Cursed Night
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The week passed quickly. The queen’s journey to Fristov and Glasin was drawing near. Two days had already gone by since the Aletheia Tower incident at the start of the week...

By midweek, the queen attended the grand council meeting. She sat quietly in her seat — strangely calmer than usual. The dark circles beneath her turquoise eyes told of sleepless nights. She looked utterly exhausted. Both Ivanka and Evan were deeply worried about her.

The meeting passed uneventfully, mostly routine discussions. The aristocrats of the conservative party had been warned not to speak disrespectfully of the queen again — or they’d face the same disciplinary council as Sir Albert and Sir Antoine.

As time passed, the queen’s fatigue became increasingly visible. When the meeting finally ended and the king began to leave with his royal guards, he suddenly felt a strange tension and movement coming from the left rows — the seats of the opposition.

Turning quickly, he saw the queen fainting in her chair! Ivanka rushed to catch her before she fell and hurried her to the royal physician, with Shadow changing his direction immediately to follow them, and the royal guards close behind.

Evan took control of the chamber and ordered everyone to leave at once, forbidding them to spread rumors. Then he too followed the king.

...

In the queen’s chamber, Asma was laid on her bed. The royal physician ordered complete rest, explaining that the queen had not slept properly for three nights.

After things calmed down and the doctor left, Lady Litchie took the prescribed sedatives and, with the king’s permission, excused herself.

Only the king, Ivanka, Evan, and the sleeping Asma remained. Tears streamed from her closed eyes as she slept under the effect of the sedative.

Shadow stood beside her bed, observing her silently before turning slowly toward Evan and Ivanka, his hands clasped behind his back. His voice was calm, yet sharp:
“...Well then. What exactly happened in the Aletheia Tower?”

His tone was cold, almost detached — as if he couldn’t care less.

Lifting his icy gaze to meet theirs, he continued, “Won’t you tell me?...” Then sighed, about to leave. “...I suppose you don’t want to help her, then.”

Evan stepped forward quickly, blocking his path. “N-no! We’ll tell you!”

Shadow stopped, still composed. “I’m listening.”

Evan swallowed hard. “Asma… hasn’t been able to sleep for three nights. She’s terrified — haunted. She hallucinates every time she’s alone in her room at night.”

Shadow frowned. “Hallucinates?”

“Yes,” Evan continued nervously. “She says she sees strange beings in her room — wailing, screaming, corpses walking among the living! Blood everywhere! And when she couldn’t take it anymore, she tried to sleep in the hallway with the guards. Even then, she nearly fell out of the window — I caught her just in time! She wasn’t conscious, just running from something invisible!”

Shadow’s expression hardened, a flash of anger lighting his usually blank face.

“I told you not to go near the Aletheia Tower, Evan! You didn’t listen — and now this is the result.” His voice was low but seething with restrained fury.

Evan lowered his head. “I know, Your Majesty. I’m sorry... but does that mean the queen isn’t hallucinating?”

“No,” Shadow said flatly. His eyes flickered with something unreadable — pity, perhaps understanding. “She’s seeing more than she ever should.”

Evan’s eyes widened in shock. The king seemed to know exactly what Asma was going through.

Shadow exhaled slowly, then looked at Ivanka with cold firmness. “Bring the queen to my chamber.”

He left without another word.

Ivanka obeyed at once, and the queen was moved to the king’s quarters. When they arrived, Ivanka laid her gently on the royal bed.

“...Good night, both of you. You may go now,” Shadow said, his tone calm yet commanding. “She’ll be safe here — nothing will harm her.”

Evan bowed. “Yes, Your Majesty. We trust you with the queen’s safety.”

When they left, the grand chamber fell silent. The vast royal room, dimly lit with a reddish-orange glow, was filled with a haunting stillness. Moonlight filtered through the balcony curtains.

Shadow stood over the sleeping queen, watching her tear-streaked face. His brows furrowed in faint regret. He murmured, “...So, you’re here too, aren’t you?”

When he opened his eyes again — the room was crawling with the same shadows of the dead from Aletheia Tower!

He stared at them — above, below, with chilling amusement and cruelty. A twisted smile crept across his face.

“Idiots. Even in death, you’re pathetic. If you want to haunt someone, why her? She’s crying! By the way… how’s your precious Queen Aletheia?”

The phantoms shrieked in agony. “W-we... will avenge... You!”

As they lunged toward the bed, Shadow vaporized them in an instant — as if swatting insects — then sat casually at the edge of the bed, facing where they had been.

“Let’s make a deal,” he said quietly. “Torment me instead. I can handle your ugly faces every night. After all — I’m the one who killed you, not her.”

Leaning back, he sighed, his glowing black hair cascading down his back.

“...Sleep well, Queen of Norton,” he whispered. “You’ll need your strength for Fristov and Glasin. Save my people… and perhaps repay me for letting you live.”

...

By morning, Asma awoke refreshed for the first time in days — only to find herself in the king’s chamber!

Panicking, she jumped from bed and rushed to find Ivanka, who was already waiting outside.

“Ivanka!”

“My queen! You’re awake — are you alright?” Ivanka fussed over her, examining her like a mother.

Asma suddenly hugged her tightly. “Thank you for taking care of me!”

Ivanka froze, blushing deeply, then awkwardly patted Asma’s shoulder. “It’s my duty, Your Majesty.”

“Let’s go, Ivanka! I don’t want to stay in that man’s room any longer!”

“I’m sorry, my queen, but you mustn’t leave. The king’s orders — he placed heavy guards outside to protect you from the shadows. It’s because of your last visit to Aletheia Tower. I’m truly sorry.”

“It’s not your fault!... Wait—why would that fool want to protect me?”

“All I know,” Ivanka said softly, “is that His Majesty used a very strong spell… Agartha magic — forbidden magic — just to keep you safe now, and during your journey.”

Asma fell silent, processing the weight of that revelation.

“Please, stay inside, my queen,” Ivanka pleaded. “Otherwise, you might not be able to sleep again.”

Reluctantly, Asma agreed — and spent the day exploring the king’s massive room, marveling at its size and luxury, completely at ease using his belongings.

...

When evening came, the king returned to his chamber — and froze in disbelief.

There sat Asma on the floor, dressed in bright cotton pajamas decorated with orange and yellow ducks, rubbing her feet carelessly on a royal carpet over two thousand years old.

He was stunned. In his world, women never wore men’s attire!

He stared blankly as she massaged her feet.

Evan entered at that moment — and froze too. “What… what are you doing?”

“Rubbing my feet! They’re sore,” she replied nonchalantly.

Shadow’s voice grew tense. “In front of the king? The ruler of Norton?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, sorry. Would you like me to rub yours too, Your Majesty? Though you should probably wash them first — they must stink!” she added sweetly.

Evan bit his lip, trying not to laugh.

 “Your Majesty, perhaps you should try it! Hahaha—”

“Evan! Silence!” Shadow barked furiously.

Asma began humming and dancing oddly — modern movements utterly foreign to him. Shadow stared, horrified, while Evan burst into uncontrollable laughter.

Shadow’s inner thoughts screamed, “How did I ever allow this woman into my palace? She’s not human — she’s a monkey!”

...

Later that night, Shadow sat at his desk reviewing state papers, glancing at Asma sprawled in the middle of his bed, leaving no space for anyone else.

Without looking up, he muttered coldly, “Don’t worry. I slept on the couch last night — no need to prove the bed is all yours.”

“And tonight too! You’ll sleep on the couch. I don’t let men like you near my bed!”

“My bed,” he corrected sharply. “Since when is it yours?”

Before he could continue, Asma suddenly burped loudly.

Shadow froze, disgust and rage flashing through his eyes. She spoke bluntly…

“What? Disgusted, Your Majesty? Leave if you can’t handle it!”

He slammed the papers on the desk, his voice booming: “Out! Now! I don’t want to see you until morning!”

She left laughing… only to return moments later, pounding the door and crying, “Shaadoow! Please open up! I don’t want to go back to my room — it’s dark! I remembered a ghost story about a spirit that kills virgins! I don’t want to die yet — I’m too young and still single!”

“Go back to your room!” he shouted from inside.

“Please! Just tonight! I’ll be quiet — I even snore softly!” she begged through tears.

He opened the door angrily — then froze when he saw the real tears in her eyes. Looking away in irritation, he muttered, “...Fine. Come in. But don’t touch anything.”

She smiled through her tears and hugged him. “Thank youuu!”

He stiffened completely. “...What?!?”

She ran to the bed, jumped in, and fell asleep almost instantly, snoring peacefully.

Shadow sat on his chair, staring blankly — utterly speechless. “So, in her world, hugging men is a normal greeting too? What a degenerate society…”

Then, from the bed, she said brightly, “Your Majesty! Count on me in Fristov and Glasin! I’ll make you proud!”

“I look forward to it,” he replied dryly.

“And if I succeed, I’ll accept your marriage proposal! I’ll be your wife — but first, you must answer one question.”

Shadow raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what would that be?”

“Well… do you hate me? Am I your enemy?”

“That’s two questions, not one.”

“Whatever! You don’t have to answer now. Tell me later!” She covered her head with the blanket. “Good night!”

Shadow smirked faintly, shrugged, and went back to reading his papers.

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