Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!

Th--clunck--ud! Th--clunck--ud! Th--clunck--ud!

The royal guards led Diana through the halls of the castle without once stopping, her footsteps standing out from their synchronized march. She was scared; worried that she was called upon by the royals only to hear that Darion had died the night before. From the carriage she'd been carried in on, she saw the wreckage of the previous night's chaos. Smoke still curled up towards the sky, carrying with it the tale of what actually took place.

There had been horses roaming around the palace grounds. The stable was completely destroyed, now nothing but a pile of ash, yet not a single horse had been lost. It was a miracle. Diana remembered a horse looking up at her as she passed by. Darion had never liked horses; he never liked the aspect of having to trust the animal. He liked things he could control; it's why he learned to control magic. Diana smiled at her memories of Darion shying away from the majestic creatures, trying in vain to act as if he wasn't afraid.

Her smile melted away at the thought of losing him.

They were now walking down a long hall lined with guards to a set of double doors bigger than any doors Diana had ever seen before. They must've been the doors to throne room that Darion talked about at times. A shiver ran down Diana's back, the hairs on her arm rising up. The only time she'd been this nervous was when she'd met Darion.

The market street had been crowded that day. A couple loaves of bread were in a sack she cradled to her body as she tried to slip her way through the crowd. Diana never liked crowds and had to keep herself from panicking as people, aromas, and shouts bombarded her senses from all directions.

"Watch out!"

She whirled around to see a cart headed her way and jumped to the side to avoid being ran over. A deep grunt came from behind her; she'd bumped right into someone. Normally, she would give a quick apology before slipping back into the crowd, hopefully before anyone could get angry. This time, however, she froze. The man was tall, his eyes dark and filled with anger--that is until they met hers and immediately softened. Diana tried to avert her gaze, but her eyes just flicked down to his body. His attire consisted of dark colors despite the hot day; his arms stretching out the fabric of his sleeves. She quickly looked back up at his face.

"I'm sorry," she said, shifting her hold on her sack of bread. "There was a cart and...I didn't mean to run into you."

He seemed to shake himself from a trance as he spoke. "It's okay, don't worry about it." He gave her a smile and she returned it. She turned to leave and he spoke up once more. "You want to see something cool?" She liked the smile he had on his face after asking the question; his teeth exposed to the sunlight.

"Sure," she said, shrugging her arms. She had a little bit of extra time before she had to get home.

"Wait one second." He turned to the merchant working the stand they were in front off. Diana hadn't even noticed the rows of spices next to her, the sharp scent surprising her. He bought a pound of cinnamon, handing over the money before turning back to her.

"Why are you getting so much cinnamon?"

"It has to do with what I want to show you. Follow me."

Diana found it much easier following behind this boy than facing the crowd alone. People seemed to make way for him even though--from what she could tell--he wasn't royalty. They were soon out of the crowd and behind a building where no one else was. Diana knew she should've been scared about being isolated from the public with someone she didn't know, but she trusted him.

He placed the sack of cinnamon on the ground and took a few steps back. "It's for your safety," he insisted. He rubbed his hands together before, with as much showmanship as he could manage, he snapped his fingers. A flame sparked to life, hovering over his finger.

Although Diana's eyes widened, she didn't appear to be as impressed as the boy had hoped. He knew he could do better, so he did. He blew on the flame, but instead of dying, the flame erupted into a stream. The heat hit Diana like a wall, the flames glowing in her eyes.

She gasped.

"You're a fire-breather!"

"Oh, I can do more than that," he said, extinguishing the flame. The day felt cold for a few seconds with the sudden lack of heat. The boy made his way back to her. "What's your favorite flower?"

"A lily." The boy kneeled down and placed his hand on the ground, closing his eyes in concentration. Diana looked over him, patiently waiting to see what was going to happen. He cupped his hands together and stood back up. She leaned close as he opened his palms, revealing the purple and white lily resting there.

"It's beautiful!" Diana said, plucking the flower from his hands. She observed and smelled it; it was authentic.

The boy stumbled a little, closing his eyes to catch his balance. Diana was immediately by his side, holding him steady.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I'm fine. Magic is just draining--especially if you're an amateur like me." Diana helped him sit down.

"You didn't have to go and kill yourself just to impress me," she muttered. Once he was on the ground, she pulled her sack from around her and ripped off a piece of one of the loaves.

"So I did impress you?" the boy asked. He smiled. "Then it was definitely worth it." Diana knew she was smiling as she handed him the bread. "No, I couldn't. That bread is for your family, not some 20 year old stranger trying to impress a girl."

"It was for the beggar, my father doesn't notice if I buy an extra loaf for him." Darion took the bread and began nibbling on it with a grin.

"I like you," he said.

"I could tell." Diana ripped off a piece of bread for herself, eating it while sneaking glances at the boy next to her. "What's your name?"

"Darion."

That was 5 years ago. Now she was 23, and standing before the king and queen, waiting to be told something bad had happened. Diana told herself that she was ready to hear about her husband's death, that she'd prepared herself enough, yet deep down she knew: she would never be ready to hear that he was dead.

"Diana Grayson, wife of the Heart Breaker," Queen Rema said, staring down at her from the throne.

"Yes, my Queen?"

"It has come to our attention that someone with magical capabilities had broken into the castle last night." Diana didn't even attempt to hide her shock. Never in a million years would she have guessed that Darion had been planning to break in to the castle when he had visited her. "Knowing very few magic users in this kingdom, it was only logical to suspect the only one who also know their way around the castle. It also doesn't help that your husband been missing for the past few days."

Without even being asked to, Diana told the king and queen everything about the night before. How Darion had come under the protection of the night, dragging an enemy to the crown with him. "I swear to you, my Queen, that I had no idea he was planning on breaking into the castle."

King Ethan looked over at his wife and they held a silent conversation. "Normally, we would have the castle's magician to prepare a truth potion, but you may be able to see why we can't do that. For now, we'll take your word. Return to your home and inform the castle of any contact you may have with your husband."

Diana nodded and bowed, leaving the room as fast as she could without drawing attention. On the carriage ride back to her house, Diana pictured Darion in her head; sweet, caring Darion. She couldn't picture this Darion breaking into the castle for any reason. He was too good for that; he liked where he was in life and wouldn't change a thing.

She soon realized the Darion she was imagining wasn't the Darion she spent her nights with; he was the Darion of the past. He was from a time before his loss, before he was forced to join the army, before he became not only a hunter, but an executioner. He was from a time when he could sleep at night without potions, when he didn't isolate himself on the days he could feel the anger taking over, when the use of magic brought him joy. That Darion was gone.

The more Diana thought about everything Darion had been through, the easier it became to imagine him breaking into the castle.