#dyrcha

Haven't you heard?

The Prince's demeanor has changed, as if something now holds it in place. He no longer lashes out at chaos abruptly; his strikes are more precise and deadlier than ever.

Haven't you seen?

The shadows around him no longer behave as they should. They move with intent, they guard him - even from a single speck of dust. And when his temper rises… they calm him down as no one ever could.

You might think: shadows are still shadows, after all. They move only when they are commanded, and they obey without restraint. But not this one…

The most curious of all, the Prince does not seem to notice. That it is no longer simply bound to him. It is learning its cage.

...or is it?

There are moments when his hand rises, catching the shadow where it dares to reach him. Not in rejection - but in a quiet reminder of who still holds the key to the cage.

"Everyone, eyes on her," he said in a loud, clear voice, his hand extended to her, "The lady of the night. The one who made all of this possible. Applaud her."

That sounded like a command rather than a request.

But all of the guests obeyed. Aside from clapping, some cheered for her, and some were also screaming compliments to her.

Chama descended the stairs. With each step she took, the lamps around the pillars flickered brighter; her shadows fluttered, excited like little pets. She took Dyrroth's hand as she reached the last step.

"Thank you all for coming," she said, putting her hand on her chest. "I hope you all enjoy this as much as we both do."

Dyrroth leaned in closer to her, "You look breathtaking, princess."

...

Dyrroth gripped her hands. "This was supposed to be our event, Chama." His eyes softened. "But, every time I reached for you, you shrugged me off. Every time I asked what you needed, you shut me out. You stopped sleeping beside me. Do you know how that felt?”

Chama’s fingers trembled in his hold.

“It felt like you didn’t want me near you,” he admitted. “And I thought we were past… hiding things from each other.”

"Dy…" She looked at him. Her heart tightened at the look he was giving her.

"Forgive me, please. I really didn't mean to push you away like that. I just don't want to bother you—"

"You will never be a bother to me since the first time I claimed you as mine."

The once sleepy Chama had now turned to be a wide-awakened Chama with a face red as a tomato.

"D-Dy!" She stuttered. "You can't say things like that so casually!"

"Of course I can, I'm the prince. Your prince."

"Oh—Alright, alright!" Chama pleaded in defeat. "I'm sorry for pushing you away like that."