8 years later...

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They're coming. Boots hiss against the dusty ground, bouncing off the cave walls. I wait in the shadows, in the dark jaws of the exit. They'll try to run, to hide - as they always do in the face of defeat. Stones prick into my bare back pressed against the wall. The footsteps get closer. My heart goes quiet and I slow my breath. All at once, or not at all.

"Quick, 'ere's the -"

I jump out, sword swirling. It tangoes with the first guy's guts, sweeping him to the ground. The others rush forward, frantically swinging their blades. I catch the first with my sword, each metal screeching. He lets out a guttural roar as I shove him back into his friend. They both tumble to the ground. I slice the fourth across his belly before he has a chance to lift his weapon. A red smile opens on his stomach and he topples over.

"Who the fock are you?" The second man coughs as he and the third stagger onto their feet.

I let my sword hang at my side, staring them both down with contempt. They've realised it's futile to run, to fight.

"He's my dearest shadow."

A sword goes thru each of their chests.

"Arugh!" Their eyes go wide and they crumple over as the two swords slide out.

Behind them, stands Cassian, his fair skin bright with blood. "There you are," he remarks, grinning from ear to ear. He tosses the extra sword aside, clattering to the ground. "I thought you'd be here, executing everyone."

I can't help but give a small smile. "Well, you weren't doing it."

He walks up to me slowly, red painted beneath his eyes. "I was, actually," he retorts with a breathless smirk. "You just caught the stragglers."

"Right," I deadpan. "Did you get the cargo?"

Cassian glances over the dead men before looking back up at me. "Yes, yes we did. It's with the other men."

"Let's go then."

The palace doors bow open, plumes of golden light from the crown-like chandelier shining on our faces. It replaces the sunlight, which seeps through the dome windows during the day. The king sits on his throne, a small smile forming on his lips as we approach.

"Father," Cassian beams, bowing down before approaching.

I do the same, although with less spirit.

"I assume you succeeded, otherwise you would not be home." The king says, raising a trimmed brow.

Cassian doesn't bat an eye. "Yes, of course we did, Father," he assures. "We also discovered who aided these men in obtaining our cargo."

The king's eyes shrink in intrigue. "Who?"

Cassian's gilded grin melts away. "Well, unfortunately, it was our oldest blacksmith, Dragan, who betrayed us," he explains, fiddling with his fists at his sides. "He was smuggling weapons to the rebellion."

My heart clenches, because Cassian's does. I can feel it. By the way his thumbs brush over his fists, by the way his back heaves up.

The king sucks in one side of his cheek. He breathes in the air like it's fire, then sighs the smoke out. "Unfortunate indeed," he agrees, with a subtle nod. "If the rebellion can sway even our most long standing servants, then I wonder who is next?"

I meet his glacial gaze upon me, only for a moment. A moment that freezes, enough for me to wonder if he can see through my soul. If he can perhaps hear my thoughts. Except, I have none. Dragan meant little to me - it was Cassian that grew up close with him, not I. He was only in my favour because he was in Cassian's.

Cassian clasps his hands together behind his back. He breathes in. Doesn't breathe out. "Hopefully no one else, Father."

"We'll see, son," he says. "Perhaps when you are king, you will rid this kingdom of traitors and rebels."

A meek smile gives way on his lips. "I will," he vows with a nod. He makes a slight turn to me. "Or, mostly Azael, but -"

The king locks back onto me. "Yes," he cuts in. "Your shadow can snuff out some measly flames, I'm sure."

"I will snuff out armies and kingdoms if I must," I interject, determination darkening my tone. "Your Majesty."

Cassian narrows his eyes at me, all hues of humour gone.

I shouldn't have spoken - I know, is what I want to tell him. What he can likely read in my face.

The king simply nods, training his eyes on the both of us. "You both ought to return to your quarters and wash up. I'll have the servants bring your dinner."

Cassian bobs his head down. "Thank you, Father."

We bow before we leave. Cassian goes first, and I follow, feeling the watch of a quietly wicked king behind me.

A table of silver trays and dishes is set once we're cleaned up. The smell of roasted venison, spiced vegetables and honey cakes. The servants scurry out of the room, as they always do so soundlessly. Of course, these elaborate meals are far more than we need. Yet, we devour them anyway. I, because of so many years of starvation, and Cassian, because he can.

"This is the venison we caught, is it not?" Cassian remarks as we sit down.

My stomach churns. "I suppose it could be." Not that it matters, because our day long adventure left us without lunch, thus now famished.

Cassian reaches straight for a honey cake, filling his cheeks as he chews. "Ughhh," he groans with a crumb-filled mouth. "I needed this."

I chortle as I slice up the venison on my plate, swiping it in the drizzle of warm gravy. "Clearly," I agree, savouring every bite. "I'm sorry about Dragan, though."

Cassian chews his last mouthful slowly, before gulping and sucking the honey dew off his thumb. "It's all right," he says, but the fall in his face says otherwise. "I just don't understand why he would do such a thing. He's been here since I was a baby. He's never complained about the kingdom or the way it's run."

My knife and fork hover over my plate, as I watch Cassian purse his lips in perplexion. "I suppose complaining would be futile."

He shakes his head slightly, frowning at the table. "I mean, what could anyone have against my father?"

I press my lips together. His father, whilst fair and just, has an unspoken severity to him. Something that perhaps Cassian cannot notice, blinded by his desire to please him. He was merciful enough to spare my life, to make me his beloved son's shadow. Yet, I sometimes feel as though the king has a darker shadow than I ever could.

"It is too late to ask now," I reply, sticking another piece of venison in my mouth. In precaution of saying anything more.

Cassian looks back up at me. "You're right," he concedes. "I'm glad one of our men took care of him, because I don't believe I would've had the strength to..."

Now the meat tastes stale in my mouth, by the mere sight of pain on his face. "I know," I say, quietly. "And that's why you're going to be better than any other king. Because you care for your people."