When She Didn’t Come Back
880 Words
The sun was already sinking when Alex reached the smaller gate, one of the few ways when Alice go out of the palace.
It stood open.
That alone was wrong.
Alice was careful. She never left things unfinished—not doors, not conversations, not promises. If she had gone out, she would have returned before the shadows stretched this long.
Alex stepped outside, scanning the path beyond the palace walls.
Nothing.
The road lay quiet, dust settling where footsteps should have been fresh. He waited, counting his breaths, listening for sounds that did not come.
Then he turned back.
The search began with Lunareth’s guards.
They moved through the streets methodically, asking questions with tired politeness. Vendors shook their heads. Children pointed in vague directions. Time passed, thin and useless. It was obvious that the guards searching with visible irritation rather than urgency.
"A missing girl," one of them muttered. "And not even the legitimate one."
Alex heard it. His hand tightened at his side.
They searched half-heartedly. Checking inns, questioning vendors, doing just enough to say they had tried.
“She was last seen heading toward the lower roads,” one guard reported. “Alone.”
Alex’s jaw tightened. “How long ago?”
The guard shrugged. “Before dusk.”
Another voice cut in, careless. “She shouldn’t wander without escort. It’s not as if—”
Alex looked at him with sharp eyes.
The man hesitated, then continued anyway. “It’s not as if her absence would disrupt anything important.”
Silence followed.
Alex felt something cold settle behind his ribs.
“You’re searching like you expect her to return on her own,” he said quietly. “She won’t.”
The guards exchanged looks.
“This is Lunareth’s matter,” one of them replied stiffly.
Alex stepped closer. “Then Lunareth is failing her.”
The words landed harder than raised voices ever could.
Alex turned away.
Within minutes, Valenreach’s soldiers were moving.
They did not ask permission. They did not wait for approval. They followed Alex beyond the city’s edge, torches flaring to life as the last light faded from the sky.
Alex dismounted near the outer road, crouching low.
The signs were there, faint but unmistakable.
A scuffed heel in the dirt.
Grass bent the wrong way.
A piece of fabric caught on a thorned branch.
“She was taken,” Alex said.
They followed the trail into the woods.
Lunareth’s forests were older than its walls, dense and uneven, the air thick with damp earth and lingering magic. Torches flickered strangely, shadows stretching and collapsing in ways that made distance hard to judge.
Voices reached them first.
Low laughter.
Metal scraping stone.
The crackle of a fire burning too confidently for night travelers.
They found the clearing from the trees’ edge.
Alice was tied to a trunk near the fire, wrists bound, posture straight despite the ropes biting into her skin. Dirt streaked her dress. Fear lived in her eyes—but so did defiance.
Alex did not rush.
He raised a hand, halting his men.
Steel slid free of its sheath without sound.
Alex moved through the trees like a shadow, his steps measured, breath controlled. The first man never saw him—Alex struck cleanly, dropping him before a shout could form.
Another turned too late.
Alex twisted, blade flashing, knocking the weapon from his hand before driving him to the ground. A third rushed forward with a shout.
Magic flared at Alex’s palm—cold, sharp, disciplined.
It surged outward like winter air, slamming into the attacker and pinning him against a tree. Frost crawled across bark and cloth alike, locking the man in place with a choked gasp.
More rushed in.
Alex met them head-on.
Steel rang against steel. He parried, stepped inside a swing, struck with precision born not of training halls, but necessity. One blade grazed his shoulder; Alex didn’t slow.
A pulse of magic burst from him, blinding and forceful, sending the remaining men staggering long enough for Valenreach’s soldiers to finish the fight.
The clearing fell silent.
Alex crossed the distance to Alice in three strides.
“Alice.”
Her breath hitched. “You came.”
He cut the ropes with hands that shook despite his control, catching her as her knees buckled.
“I shouldn’t have gone alone,” she whispered.
“No,” Alex said firmly, pulling her into his arms. “I should have been there.”
She clutched his coat, fingers digging in like she was afraid the ground might vanish.
Lunareth’s guards arrived moments later—too late.
One of them surveyed the scene with irritation rather than relief. “This could have been avoided,” he muttered. “She creates unnecessary risk.”
Alex turned slowly.
“She, my wife-to-be, is under my protection,” he said, voice flat and cold. “And if you ever speak of her as a problem again, you will answer to me.”
The guard paled and said nothing.
As they rode back toward the palace, Alice leaned against Alex’s shoulder, her breathing slowly evening out.
For the first time, Alex understood something with brutal clarity.
Alice had never run from Lunareth because she was reckless.
She ran because staying meant being invisible.
- Writer
