𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 | 𝟏𝟖+

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 | 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

ততততত

𝐈 𝐌 𝐎 𝐆 𝐄 𝐍

"He's so stupid sometimes," I grumble, storming straight into my bedroom chamber. "A complete ignorant bull-headed imbecile!"

Elena winces. "You're talking about your own father."

"How could he just sign me off?" In the presence of my father, my heart broke to pieces when I heard of the betrothal. Now, anger rises within me, swelling me with a fire that demands a release. "I am not marrying that man!"

Elena chases behind me and closes the bedroom door. I let no one in my bedroom chamber, no one but my father and Elena, my maidservant. Her mess of tawny hair trails behind her like a foxtail, and the freckles on her cheeks light up like tiny constellations, as she follows me out onto my balcony. By now, the sun has dipped below the horizon, blanketing the kingdom of Lagulon in black shadows. Only the glow of firelight from the city of Summervale illuminates the darkness.

I grip the balcony's edge, attempting to calm the rapid pace of my heart. "You've heard rumours about King Leighton," I seethe. "He's a monster in the flesh, waiting to rip apart his next victim."

"There's a difference between you and the other women he's been involved with," Elena states. "You will be his wife. They were just members of his harem."

"Like the title will change anything."

She sets her hand on my arm, rubbing the porcelain skin in soothing circles. "Your father is under a lot of pressure right now, Imogen, and I know he wouldn't make a choice like this if he didn't see the light at the end of the tunnel."

What light is there to see? To feel? All I am is a single flame burning down a helpless candlewick. Once the wax melts and the flame disappears, I fear I won't be able to breathe anymore. That precious light my father seeks: gone. And yet, I give them hope and light. Them. The kingdom of Lagulon.

My shoulders sink as I gaze out into the orange flames dancing from the city below. "Do you think this is the right choice?"

Elena sighs. "I can't answer that."

"Yes or no?"

"Imogen," she shakes her head. "This isn't what I wished would happen to you, but I can't answer that question. We can only hope."

Even then, that hope is slim.

Elena helps me prepare for the evening, attempting to take my mind off of the betrothal by replacing it with a mundane routine. I dismiss her when I'm set for the night, and she locks the door behind her as she exits. I'm thankful for her attempts to clear my mind, but anything within these castle walls will only remind me of my dreaded fate.

I need to escape this world. I may be bound within the ropes of the betrothal, but there's a chance I can still experience freedom, even if it's just a taste.

You see, my father was the one who told me to own my rebellious Mironescu blood. He wasn't one for following rules either, according to stories I've heard from elders. At such a young age, I taught myself to escape this room. I learned the comings and goings of the guards, and I'd explore the castle grounds and the royal forests just outside of the walls.

My father taught me with a bow and arrow as soon as I began to walk. It's like a second language to me. I outsmarted nearly every archer in the royal corps before the age of ten, and continue to give them a run for their gold coins now. When the targets weren't enough, my father told me to hunt in the forests. Little does he know, I kept practicing in the midnight hour on my own, running through the trees and clambering the vines to satisfy the hunt.

I take my cloak from my closet and drape it over my nightdress. One would think scaling the walls of the castle would be difficult in such royal garb, but I've been doing it since I was a kid. I've adapted to the fabrics and corsets and skirts. The cloak just allows me to hide in the shadows of moonlight.

I hook my bow and arrow over my shoulders and scan the castle walls. There's a route I memorized by calculating the patterns of the watchguards—and after charting it out, the blindspots became clear.

The crisp air refreshes my mind.

No torchlights illuminate the route I plan to take. I drape a leg over the balcony railing, clutching a thick branch of ivy.

But I pause.

A shadow flashes across my vision. It's a movement so calculated, so stealth, that it hardly phases me that there is another presence in this area. Just below my bedroom chamber balcony lies the stone peaks of the great royal library.

I keep my eyes fixated on the movement down below, almost charmed by the trespasser's swift, delicate movements. It's fluid, like water running through the brooks. Trespassers never get far into the castle grounds—usually never making it past the main walls.

But I must applaud this one.

I remove my bow from my back and poise an arrow, drawing it back as I lock on the shadow. I'm not one to kill. Even when I hunt deer in the royal forests, it's never a shot intended to injure and wound. Even now, I have no intention of sending this arrow straight into the stranger's heart.

My breath hitches as the stranger hesitates, if only for a moment.

I release the arrow.

── •✧• ──

Thanks for reading Only After Nightfall!

If you haven't noticed, this chapter was shorter than the others. In this new version of the rewrites, chapter lengths will vary. Some will be short. Others long. It's just how long it takes me to write Imogen or Tobin's POV, and I don't want to confine myself to a word count. 

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