A Touch of Shadow: The Duke's Obsession

Three nights before the execution, deep into the night, Caelith changed into men’s clothing and followed one of Lucas’ men through several narrow alleyways before finally stopping before a small hidden door.

The man knocked three times.

Then knocked twice more.

The door creaked open from within.

A prison guard poked his head out and glanced at her briefly. "Follow me."

The corridor inside stretched endlessly into darkness.

Iron bars lined both sides, while behind them lay nothing but blackness too thick to see through. Occasionally, faint groans echoed through the passageways, sounding less like human voices and more like cries rising from the depths of the underworld itself.

The stench of blood hung heavily in the air, overwhelmingly so.

Caelith forced herself onward step by step. The deeper they went, the darker the prison became.

Torches crackled along the stone walls, casting twisted shadows that writhed across the floor like restless ghosts.

At last, the guard stopped before a prison cell and unlocked the door silently.

As he walked away, Caelith remained standing at the entrance, staring into the darkness within.

A lone figure lay curled upon a pile of straw in the corner of the cell. Caelith drew in a slow breath before stepping into the cell.

Hearing the movement, Osvald slowly lifted his head. The instant he saw her, he froze in shock.

"You... why have you come again?"

Caelith crouched down before him. "I just needed to see you."

Osvald’s expression changed immediately. "Didn’t I tell you not to come? This is the Imperial Prison! If someone discovers you here—"

"They won’t." Caelith interrupted him quietly. "Everything has already been arranged."

Osvald stared at her, his eyes reddening almost instantly. "Foolish girl..."

Caelith reached out and held his cold hands tightly. "Uncle."

Osvald lifted his head, catching her gaze.

"Endure a little longer," she said softly but firmly. "I will find a way to save you."

The man stared at her in stunned disbelief. "You... what did you say?"

"I will save you." She spoke each word slowly and clearly. "So stay alive. Wait for me."

Osvald looked at her as tears spilled down his face more fiercely than before.

"Foolish girl... how could you possibly save me? This is a sentence of death..."

"You don’t need to worry about that." Caelith tightened her grip around his hands. "You only need to stay alive."

Footsteps suddenly echoed from outside the corridor. Caelith’s heart tightened violently.

"I have to go. Remember my words. Stay alive."

Osvald nodded, his heart beating faster for the first time in a long while.

"I... will."

Caelith rose to her feet and walked toward the cell door, but just before leaving, she turned back once more.

Osvald was still watching her. In his hand, he tightly clutched the gold pendant.

"Caelith."

"Yes?"

"You have to live too."

The implication behind his words made her heart clench in pain. She nodded quickly before turning and hurrying out of the cell. The iron door slammed shut behind her.

That sound alone was like a death sentence, too.

***

The following evening, Lucas Ostenton arrived in great haste.

Caelith was inside sorting silk threads when she saw the look upon his face, and her heart immediately sank.

"What happened?"

Lucas looked at her with wide eyes, opened his mouth, then fell silent again.

Caelith felt a chill spread through her entire body. "Speak, please."

Lucas drew in a deep breath in an attempt to calm his heart.

"Osvald Grandien..." His voice turned hoarse. "Last night, he took his own life in prison."

Caelith instantly froze. She stood there motionless, unable to move even a single step.

A deafening ringing filled her ears. Everything else faded into devastating silence.

Lucas reached out instinctively to steady her. "Miss Caelith..."

Caelith shoved his hand away and immediately started walking toward the door.

"I want to see him."

Lucas caught her wrist. "Don’t go. His body has already been moved."

Caelith slowly turned her head and looked at him through the thick veil of tears.

"Where? Where did they move him?"

Lucas hesitated, but the broken look in her eyes made him finally surrender. "A ruined temple outside the city."

Caelith nodded once. "Take me there. Please."

The man looked at her as though wanting to persuade her otherwise, but in the end, he merely lowered his gaze and nodded.

"...Alright."

Caelith turned and went back into her chamber to change into plain mourning robes.

Yvaine stood silently at the doorway, watching her.

"Sister..."

Caelith never looked back.

"I’m going out for a while. If Rhaegar asks, tell him I went to purchase supplies."

The door closed behind her, leaving no room for discussion.

***

The ruined temple outside the city had long since fallen into disrepair. Several holes gaped open in the roof, allowing cold moonlight to spill through and scatter across the dusty floor.

Osvald’s body lay upon a straw mat covered by a plain white cloth.

Caelith slowly knelt beside him and lifted the cloth away.

His face looked peaceful. There was even the faintest trace of a smile lingering at the corners of his lips.

Tears spilled down her cheeks in hot rivulets. "Uncle..."

She reached out trembling fingers and gently touched his face. It was so cold. Colder than the night wind outside the temple.

Three days ago, he had still been alive. He had still held her hand and told her to live well. He had promised her he would stay alive.

He had lied to her. He had lied... for her.

Lucas remained standing silently at the temple entrance, never stepping inside.

Caelith carefully removed the gold pendant from Osvald’s hand and tucked it back into her own coat. Then, she slowly rose to her feet and stepped backward.

Outside, Lucas instructed his men to stack the firewood.

A torch was thrown onto the pile. Flames erupted instantly, illuminating the entire ruined temple in flickering gold and crimson.

Caelith stood before the fire without moving. Lucas walked quietly to her side.

"Miss Caelith... please accept my condolences."

She did not answer. She only stared at the flames consuming everything before her.

The fire burned for a very long time, and by the time it died, nothing remained except ashes.

Caelith crouched down silently and gathered a handful of ash into her palms. Carefully, reverently, she placed it into the urn she had brought with her for this exact purpose.

Then, she rose again, holding the small urn tightly against her chest.

"Uncle," she whispered softly, "we’re going home."

Lucas followed after her silently as they headed for the exit, but as they reached the temple doors, Caelith suddenly stopped and turned back for one final glance.

Inside the ruined temple, pale smoke still curled upward from the ashes as if to guard her uncle’s spirit out of this world.

Then, she withdrew her gaze and continued walking forward without looking back again.

With that, her last hope to reclaim her family was gone forever.

***

Half a month after Osvald’s death, Firefly Pavilion reopened for business once more.

Every day, Caelith embroidered as usual, busying her mind with hard work.

She greeted customers as usual, hiding her pain behind a smiling mask.

When neighbors and merchants came to offer congratulations, she regarded them warmly and invited them to browse the embroidery pieces.

Yvaine helped beside her, though from time to time she would glance at Caelith with worry hidden in her eyes.

Because she alone knew... Every single night, her sister still could not sleep.

***

One afternoon, Yvaine noticed someone standing outside the shop.

It was a young man she had never seen before. He appeared to be barely in his twenties, with strikingly handsome features and upright brows that suggested he had once belonged somewhere respectable.

Yet his clothes were ragged and filthy. His hair hung in disarray, as though he had not bathed in many days.

He said nothing. He merely stood there quietly, staring inside the embroidery shop with restrained curiosity.

The first day, Yvaine paid him no mind.

The second day, he returned again.

The third day... He was still there.

At last, Yvaine could no longer ignore it.

Fueled by a blend of curiosity and irritation, she walked over to Caelith and lowered her voice.

"Sister, there’s a man standing outside the shop. He’s been watching us every day. Isn’t it suspicious?"