Page 8 of Song of the Shadow Prince
The rhythmic clop of the horses' hooves and the gentle sway of the carriage were almost hypnotic, a stark contrast to my inner turmoil. I couldn’t shake the image of Gianna’s downcast eyes, her words echoing in my head. As the carriage sped through the storm, a sense of urgency built within me. The mainland, with all its beauty and life, was a reminder of what I sought – freedom, adventure, and a life beyond the confines of my exile.
We turned a corner and my uncle’s residence came into view. A sprawling estate with towering stone walls and ornate iron gates, it was both imposing and inviting. The carriage rolled to a stop and I took a deep breath, the smell of rain and earth grounding me.
Once we entered my uncle’s property, I bounded down the carriage steps and strode into his sprawling residence. The rain continued to pour, drenching everything in sight, but the warmth and light from the house were welcoming beacons. His servants were there to open the heavy oak doors, the hinges creaking softly, and they immediately offered me towels to dry myself off.
“Your Highness,” they greeted me, their voices respectful. Few people ever addressed me as such.
“My uncle?” I asked, patting my clothes and skin with the soft, absorbent towel.
“In his study, Your Highness,” one of the servants responded with a polite bow.
Handing the soaking wet towel back to them, I hurried through the grand foyer. The walls were adorned with fine art and tapestries, the polished wooden floors gleaming under the dim glow of crystal chandeliers. The air smelled faintly of beeswax and lemon from recent polishing, mingling with the subtle fragrance of fresh flowers arranged in ornate vases.
I reached the study and knocked before entering. “Uncle Bai?” I closed the door behind me and strode across the room to sit opposite him at his massive, intricately carved mahogany desk. The study smelled of aged parchment, leather-bound books, and a hint of sandalwood—scents that always reminded me of my uncle. He was the only family member I had known intimately, having raised me from birth and shared my exile on the island. He was my constant companion and mentor, the only one who had stayed by my side.
“I heard there was trouble.” He peered up from the book he was reading, one bushy eyebrow raised. His eyes, though weathered, held a spark of sharp intelligence.
I smirked. “Arya,” was all I said.
He snorted and laughed, a deep, resonant sound. “Of course. But I assume all is well now?”
I nodded. “As well as it can be, I guess.”
“Explain.”
I sighed and tossed my head back in frustration. “Gianna is not the one, Uncle.”
He set his book down with a soft thud. “But you already knew that, Damien.”
I straightened, my eyes narrowing. “Don’t start—”
“She doesn’t have the mark,” he cut me off. “You know this.”
“It’s been decades!” I shouted, leaping to my feet. “No onehas the mark!” I began to pace the room, the soft rustle of mydamp clothes the only sound breaking the tension. “I’m tired of waiting, Uncle. I just need to find a wife and gain my freedom—”
“It’s not that simple, and you know it.” He slowly rose from his chair.
As the elder sibling, Uncle Bai was the rightful heir to the throne, but he relinquished the throne to my father to avoid a war. From what I understood, he was close to a thousand years old. Though he radiated strength, his age was starting to show in his shoulder-length, salt-and-pepper hair and bushy white eyebrows. The wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and laugh lines spoke of countless years of experience, but he stood tall and refined, ever the warrior. His posture was straight and his presence commanding, exuding an air of wisdom that could only come from centuries of life. And his dragon was even more formidable; a massive crimson creature with spikes along its back that could lay waste to nations in seconds. It was why he decided to abdicate the throne instead of going to war with my father… he knew the damage he could cause.
His study was a testament to his life’s work and interests. Shelves filled with ancient tomes and scrolls lined the walls. A large window behind his desk overlooked the manicured gardens, now glistening with rain. The room was dimly lit by a few strategically placed lamps, casting a warm, inviting glow that contrasted with the storm that continued to rage outside. The crackle of the fireplace added a soothing background to our otherwise tense conversation.
“You know the importance of the mark, Damien,” he continued, his voice calm but firm. “It’s more complicated than simply finding a wife.”
I stopped pacing and faced him, the frustration evident in my eyes. “What if the one with the mark never comes? What then?”
Uncle Bai walked around the desk and placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Patience, my boy. Everything happenson its own time. Rushing into something out of desperation will only lead to more suffering.”
His words, though wise, did little to ease the turmoil inside me. The scent of sandalwood and parchment, the warmth of the fire, and the familiar surroundings of the study were small comforts compared to the weight of my predicament. I looked into his eyes and studied the depth of his wisdom and years of sacrifice etched into his features. He had always been my guide, and though I wanted to rebel against his advice, I knew deep down he was right.
“I know, Uncle,” I said softly, my shoulders slumping. “I just… I’m tired of waiting.”
His eyes glinted dangerously. “That’s what your father is hoping for. He hopes you’ll get tired of waiting and choose someone at random,” he said. “He doesn’t want to give you your freedom. Don’t fall for it.”
He was right. My desperation was leading me to make dire mistakes that could cost me everything.
“It’s been fifty-five years since the mark on my forearm appeared, Uncle… I haven’t found a single person with it since.” I rolled up my sleeve and looked at the twin flame mark emblazoned on my arm.
His wizened eyes seemed to peer into my soul. “She’ll appear when you least expect it, Damien. Just give it time. Because when she arrives, nothing will ever be the same again.”
