Under His Shadow

Chapter Four

The Man Behind the Fear

Keiroa did not sleep that night.

Even when the house was loud again, when the guards took their stations once more, fear was with her. It was weighing upon her chest so that she could barely breathe when she had closed her eyes once more to hear again the voice that seemed to echo from it. You belong to us now.

She was lying stiff in the bed, her gaze fixed upon the ceiling. Her body was exhausted, but her mind could not let her sleep. She heard each sound amplified. She felt each movement close. She pictured footsteps outside her door. She pictured the doorknob turning slowly.

Elara remained with her until the morning. She was sitting on a chair near her bed, alert, listening. She, too, could not sleep.

“You should rest,” Elara whispered once.

Keiroa shook her head. "If I sleep, I won’t hear them."

Elara didn’t argue. She understood fear too well.

When finally the dawn came, it brought no comfort.

The house had changed. It felt heavier. Sharper. The stillness had stopped being serene. It had turned hot, as if something simmered in readiness to burst.

Guards multiplied around every bend. Doors, once open, are now shut and locked. The estate had ceased to be an ordinary house. It had turned into a prison made of stone, of regulations, of terror.

Keiroa splashed water over her face. She gazed at her reflection. She looked pale. Her eyes were dark and empty. She barely knew herself.

“This place is changing me,” she thought. “Or maybe it is showing me who I really am.”

There came a hard knocking at the door. Not soft. Not even polite.

"Her heart jumped."

“Come in,” she said softly.

Captain Kai stood there. Tall. Unmoving. His face was serene, but his eyes were alert, watching her intently.

“You are to come with me," he said.

“Where!”

Keiroa

“The council chamber.”

She felt a catch in her breathing.

“That is not for me to say.”

“What’s there to be scared of?” he asked as fear crawled up her spine. But she nodded in answer.

“Come on,” he said, turning to walk ahead, and she followed without protest.

As they walked, Keiroa realized that the guards were observing her. Not with a look of pity. Not with a look of kindness. With a look of calculation. As if she was something that could be stolen.

The doors of the chamber opened.

Roland was inside and stood by a table that was quite long. But he was not by himself.

There was a man sitting at the head of the table. Older. The Calm. Powerful. His body leaned back, but his eyes were hard and icy. Keiroa was studied by this man as if she were an object placed out for inspection.

“This is Mr. Stone,” Roland said. “My uncle.”

Keiroa tilted her head slightly. Her senses were screaming at her that this man was dangerous. He was even more dangerous than the intruders. And he smiled.

“So this is her,” Mr. Stone spoke slowly.

His eyes roved over her face, her stature, her position.

“She’s smaller than I pictured,” he went on. “And quieter. That’s okay, though. Sometimes power doesn’t present itself that way.”

Keiroa clasped her hands together. She did not like how he was talking to her, as if she was not present.

“You almost got caught last night,” Mr. Stone said matter-of-factly. “That was inconvenient.”

Keiroa turned to Roland. "You know?"

"Yes," Roland answered. His tone was flat.

“And you did not tell me?”

Mr. Stone chuckled softly. "Fear teaches faster than explanation, my dear."

Something in Keiroa broke. “I am not a lesson.”

The room fell silent.

"Roland turned sharply. He noticed that Mr. Stone's smile widened.

“Fascinating,” Mr. Stone said. “You speak.”

Keiroa swallowed, but she looked right back at him.

"People are trying to take me. I have a right to know why."

Mr. Stone leaned back. “You will know when it proves beneficial for us.”

Her chest contracted. “So I’m just a thing to you?”

Roland did not say a word.

"The silence hurt more than any insult."

Mr. Stone stood up.

“Last night was only the beginning,” he said. “There shall be others, greater and cleverer.”

Keiroa felt dizzy.

“They want what you represent,"he went on. "And if they can't take you alive, they'll destroy you.”

Her knees wobbled. “Then let me go,” she whispered.

“I do not want this.”

Mr. Stone’s face stiffened. “You do not get to choose.”

Roland spoke at last. "Enough."

Mr. Stone turned to him. “Do not grow soft. You know what is at stake.”

Keiroa looked between them. And in that instant, she realized something chilling. This marriage had nothing to do with honor or family. It had everything to do with power. And she was its object.

After the meeting, Captain Kai led her back to her room. Her headache was throbbing. Her thoughts were racing.

Elara hastened to her side. “What happened?”

“They know,” Keiroa whispered. “They all know. And they don’t care.”

“Then we must be careful. More careful than ever.”

Elara's face fell.

That evening, Roland came to her room.

Keiroa tensed when she saw him standing there, towering over her unreadably.

“You did not need to speak to my uncle in that manner,” he said.

“I deserved answers,” she said.

“You are alive only because you are under my protection.”

She lifted her eyes to his. “Protection or control?”

His jaw clutched. He did not respond.

"I will increase security," he said instead. "You will not leave this wing."

And if I refuse?

His eyes darkened. “Do not test me.”

Silence fell between them.

But before he turned to leave, Keiroa spoke. "They said," “If they can't take me alive, they'll destroy me,”

Roland paused. His shoulders stood stiff.

“That will not happen,” he said quietly.

As he departed, Keiroa collapsed on the bed. Her body trembled. She realized something painful.

Everyone was fighting over her.

However, no one was asking her what she wanted.

Later that night, Elara came back, pale and shaking.

“They killed one of the guards,” she whispered.

“Quietly. No one noticed.”

"Inside the estate?" Keiroa’s breath caught.

Elara nodded.

There came a scream from deep inside the house.

Keiroa rose slowly, a burning fear inside her chest.

This was no longer a warning.

It was a war.

Because she was the prize!