Chapter Text
The castle was kinder after moonlight had seeped through the windows. When dark cloudy skies seemed to muffle the lingering castle noise. When torchlight illuminated the castle walls, swaying with the harsh shadows —and the long corridors settling into silence, aside from the occasional draft.
The day had been long. Drawn out by the repetition of the same old routines. Daylight seemed to beckon noise as the castle would wake. Knights would stomp through routes with swords sheathed and stiff postures. Nobles would whisper down the hall speaking of gossip and worn-down rumors.
Amy leaned back in her vanity chair to look over her shoulder and out the balcony doors. The moon had risen just above the castle walls. She shifted her gaze over to the doorway that was currently closed, with steam rising up through the crack near the floor. The faint sound of falling water echoed from the room.
Amy stood up from her vanity, quietly walking over towards her wardrobe, pulling on the black metal handle. Inside hung several casual dresses, which lined up neatly beside one another. Off to the side hung an apron. It was cream white, with stains that seemed to refuse on leaving. It was torn and frayed at the edges, with thread hanging loose at the seams. Amy’s hand grabbed and hooked it off of the hanger–pulling the neck loop over her head. She flattened out the surfaced wrinkles with a quick swipe of her hands before they moved behind her and tied it all together with a messy bow.
She gave one last glance toward the steamy door before quietly slipping through the exit. Her feet slowly carried her down the halls, the clicking of her flats bouncing down the empty hallway.
A rugged wooden door stood tucked in a corner of the wall, containing buckets that had rags hanging off of the side of their lip. Brooms and mops leaned against the small closet space. Her fingers gripped a bucket handle, picking it up and holding it at her side. She grabbed and stuffed a handful of rags into her apron pocket before smoothly grabbing the splintered handle of a broom.
The outside air was crisp and clean. Amy’s dress swayed in the faint breeze as she approached the small well at the edge of the garden. She set her materials to the side of the stone, hooking her bucket to the rope before throwing it down the deep hole. She waited a second before hearing a splash hit the bottom. She tested the rope with a small tug before starting to wind up the wheel. Her arms circled as the bucket was pulled up. As it reached the top, Amy caught it with a swift grab —small splashes throwing droplets onto her fur. She pulled the bucket onto the ledge and unhooked it.
She allowed the bucket to rest on the edge, her hands gently supporting it around its sides. Her chest rose as air deeply filled her lungs, her eyes fluttering closed as she took a moment to feel the wind kiss her face. The night seemed to whisper reassurance into her bones before she forced them to continue moving.
Amy walked back inside into the castle halls, the bucket swaying with waves at each step she took.
Amy approached two large wooden double doors. Each engraved with beautiful florals and sigils. Their presence grand. She pushed one open with the side of her hip, a small grunt escaping her as she slipped through.
The dining hall was completely empty, a stark contrast from how busy it was only hours ago. The table was set, the floors swept, the handles wiped. Still, Amy set down her bucket and broom and pulled out one of the rags from her pocket. She carefully sunk the fabric into the cold soapy water, pulling it up and wringing out the excess.
Her knees touched the floor one at a time as she crouched down. The moment she settled fully onto the floor her shoulders eased.
Finally…
She could relax.
The day usually kept her busy. Tails had been more insistent now that the date was quickly approaching. Amy was usually assigned with simpler things such as setting up meetings and appointments, or picking out which flower color would work best for the table centerpieces.
But once the sun slipped below the horizon and the rest of the world grew still, Amy could finally breathe. Others had insisted that she were to take off her normal duties, but she had waved them off. She couldn't help but love the peace and quiet the darkness brought.
Her hand glided the rag in slow soothing circles across the floor. Her body in no hurry. A subtle reflection glistened in the wet floor between the suds.
A quiet hum escaped her lips, her lashes lowering as she breathed in the scents of the soap. It was a mixture of soft lavender contrasting with a strong, sharp mint. The smell calmed her senses. Her ears tilted towards the ground in a relaxed manner as she continued to clean.
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The moon had risen to its peak. The castle breathed with each gust of wind that pushed against the windows. Small creaks echoed through the building. Amy finished wiping up the last of the counters. Looking over her work with small pride. The floors shined, the windows looked transparent, and the table had been beautifully arranged with rose-folded napkins.
A breath came from her mouth and was offered into the open air of the large room. Her tensions from the day easing, if only by a moment.
She stared at her work a moment longer. The way she always provided her best work when there was something weighing on her shoulders. Her foot tapped the ground once, like a statement before she turned around.
As she spun slowly on her heel, her body crashed onto another—broader, her face pressing harshly into cold metal. Her body jerked back quickly as her face cycled through a range of expressions. Pain, shock, confusion, and finally surprise.
Her gaze after she stumbled fell to the floor, towards two shoes with metal plating. Her gaze slowly lifted, seeing the black fur of their legs, the sharp lethal sword sitting hooked in their belt, the shiny silver plate that covered their chest, the broad shoulders that held two plates of armor, and finally, their face.
A small gasp entered her lungs as she quickly stiffened, her arms smacking into her sides. Then once she finally could think better of herself she bowed deeply.
”Shadow— Sir—“
She cringed. As she slowly met his gaze again, he met hers without hesitation.
”You’re up late again.”
His words weren’t scornful, only casually observant. Or as casual as he could be. When he spoke, his voice was low, smooths, and scarily calm for being a man who fought at the edge of danger daily
Amy straightened up immediately.
”I’m sorry Sir.”
She didn’t know why she was apologizing. She had the sudden urge to make up for her presence being a sudden inconvenience. Yet it felt like the only appropriate thing to say to a man like him. She shifted backwards, unsure whether to leave or simply vanish.
His gaze didn’t waver, the brow on his face lifted a breath upwards. The most amusement she had ever seen until that moment.
“…Just be careful.”
The tone was like honey, something meant to stick. To be remembered. She stared at him like she was waiting for him to say something else—scornful, sharp, or hell, even rude—but it never came. She glanced around awkwardly before she looked back at him.
”Right… yes, Sir.”
He said nothing else, just looked at her. She bit the inside of her lip while he practically stared into the secrets of her soul. There was no visible judgment, or curiosity, only that precise watchfulness that pierced into her. Finally, after what was starting to feel like a pause in time, he turned, his eyes glossing over her one last time before he walked through the archway and disappeared into the dark end of the hall.
The torchlight clung to the back of his armor before the shadows swallowed him. His boots barely made a sound despite the confidence in his steps.
She had to stop her mouth from dropping open as she watched him casually walk away like they had done this before. Her heart was beating louder than it had any right to. Not sure whether it was from fear or confusion… or both.
Did that just happen…?
He hadn’t barked an order, or passed her a comment. It felt… direct. Personal, maybe. She glanced around as if maybe some ghost had witnessed the interaction and could tell her she wasn’t dreaming. But it was just her.
Her mind raced.
Sir Shadow
The Prince’s right hand guard. Placed into such a role for a reason. History said that he was accepted into the academy as a child, raised as an orphan in the towers, and cared for by the old women in the kitchens. By his teens, he was an official guard. Throughout his years, he earned many names—The Dark Knight. One-Man Army. The Butcher. And The Reaper— just to name a few.
Amy had seen him before. Passing in the halls, standing watch at the gates, appearing for royal events. But even after all this time, she had never encountered him this closely.
Never in the halls, at the gates, at royal events, and especially not here. But now she had.
She tried to fill her head with lies that felt easier to digest.
He was just patrolling.
He was on his way to the upper towers.
He probably said things to all the late workers.
But she had never heard of him doing such a thing, and she WOULD’VE heard about it. The people in this castle strived for gossip. The good, the bad, and especially the interesting.
She let out a breath that gave more questions than answers. Her arms came up to wrap loosely around herself as he turned the opposite direction towards the maid quarters. Even in the quiet corridor, his words bounced off the back of her mind.
By the time she reached the maid quarters, his voice seemed to whisper in her ear like a ghost.
…Just be careful.
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The latch gave with a small click. Amy slipped inside, easing the door shut with her hip.
The room filled with the aroma of soap and lavender. The air was humid, fogging with steam. Condensation clung onto the two empty wine glasses that sat on the kitchen counter that lay just beside a small seating area.
At the end of the quarters were two narrow beds, hidden behind a half wall with a shared vanity facing them. A single candle stood on top of it, burning low as melted wax pooled at the brass base.
Rouge, still awake, was seated at the vanity in a cotton robe, legs crossed over each other while her arms stroked through her fur with a brush. The golden light painted the edges of her wings.
Rouge’s gaze met Amy’s in the mirror. Her face filled with knowing amusement as her mouth turned into a conspiratorial smile.
”Your’re back late,” she said with an amused lilt, setting the brush down onto the vanity with a small click.
Amy caught herself mid step. Her gaze linked onto Rouge’s the moment she walked in. Her body straightened like a board, like she was caught red handed for something she didn't even do.
”Yeah. I was out cleaning again. Went and tidied up the dining room.”
Rouge twisted around in the chair. Her arms coming up and folding across the back, her face looking at her in disbelief.
”You do realize that two other maids and I came and cleaned up after dinner, right?”
Amy let breath escape her nose as she slowly moved across the room, pretending nothing was out of the ordinary.
”Just thought I’d go the extra mile”
Rouge stared at her a moment longer before slowly she turned back around and pulled out a basket full of flexible rags. She picked up one of the cloths, placing it on a strand of her fur as she began to wrap it around the rag.
”Uh huh…”
Amy walked over to the window ledge, looking as Rouge began to curl her fur.
There was a long moment of silence. Amy's feet rocking back and forth against the wood, an impatient breath escaping her as the silence dragged on.
Finally, she spoke.
”I ran into the head knight…”
Rouge paused, then grinned as if she knew how easily Amy would cave. She tilted her head in the pink hedgehog's direction.
”Oh?”
”Don’t,” Amy said quickly, her tone dry.
Rouge’s smirk was undeniable now, guiltless as she gave an innocent shrug.
”What?” She stood up from the stool, walking over towards Amy’s bed. Her hand dragged wrinkles across Amy’s perfectly made sheets before flopping down onto the edge of her mattress.
”What did he say?” A beat. “What did you say?”
She leaned forward like someone who had way too much interest in something Amy was clearly trying to play off as uninteresting.
”Was his voice as handsome as his looks?”
Amy flung her head back in regret, “Why is that the first thing you ask? Why can’t you be normal?”
Rouge let out a low, amused purr from her chest, “You love me.” She picked up Amy's pillow and hugged it between her arms. “Besides, it's interesting when the prince's right hand knight comes and talks to the prince’s betrothed.”
Amy froze, her breath skipping just once. Her hands gripped onto the fabric of her apron. “Don’t make this into a thing…” She tucked her hand behind her, as if that would somehow make it easier to ignore the prominent ring that wrapped around her finger.
Rouge lifted her hand in mock surrender, “I’m not. Just saying”
She sighed dramatically into the pillow, her cheek pressed into the soft plush. “Sonic. The perfect fiancé.” She started reciting like a monologue. “Heart of gold, prince and hero, the perfect man.”
Rouge kicked her feet mischievously, “Now threatened by his own knight”
Amy shook her head “You give your imagination too much freedom.”
Rouge let a small huff escape her, but didn’t push further. She crossed her arms and sat up straighter with a more playful expression plastered onto her face.
“Okay, but you have to admit, Shadow is… kind of hot.” She said, pursing her lips like a puppy who knows they’re in trouble.
”ROUGE!” Amy gasped, reaching over and smacking the bat’s arm with the back of her hand, sending Rouge into a flurry of laughter.
”What?! He is! In his own dark, brooding, kind of way.”
”You’re crazy”
”Oh, come on—admit it. He’s at least a little attractive”
She gave Rouge a deadpan stare. “This feels like cheating.”
Rouge groaned and leaned back exasperated. “Oh please. It’s not a crime to admire someone’s appearance.”
Amy’s lip lifted in an annoyed scowl that was slowly dissolved by Rouge's insistent playfulness. She clenched her jaw as she held back a laugh.
”Fine. I’ll admit…he has some…good genetics.”
Rouge pointed a finger in triumph. “HAH! Told you. Nobody can resist a man with sharp, silent eyes.”
Amy shoved her finger away. “Yeah, whatever.”
The banter seemed to loosen the lingering tension in Amy's shoulders as she came and sat down beside her on the bed. Rouge shifted closer, her expression more genuine now as her hand rested on top of Amy’s.
”How was wedding planning?”
Amy stole the pillow from Rouge's arms and groaned loudly into it.
”Yeesh. That bad, huh?”
The way Amy's head shot back up and glared into Rouge said plenty. She looked over at the candle that had burned a bigger pool of wax beneath it.
”Yeah. Sonic left halfway to go “help” the apprentice guards.”
She said, waving her hand in exasperation. Rouge followed with a disapproving scoff.
”You can’t be serious. Again? So you’re saying he has time for that, but not for his own wedding?”
”I-“ Amy started harshly before a sigh softened it. “No, he has duties. This engagement doesn’t just make the fact he’s a prince disappear.”
Rouge's hand found a soft place on Amy's shoulder. “Sweetheart, you’re not just the future queen, you’re his partner. He should be helping you prepare for the role. Not running off.”
Amy's hand drifted to her arm. She had defended him—she always did. But recently, it had become harder. She dignified rouge with a shift of her head.
”I know.”
She didn’t say anything more. No solution, or at least not one she was ready to face quite yet. Rouge's expression flickered with that same kind of understanding she always had. She sat up, her bat wings giving a small flutter behind her as she reached one arm over, and gave Amy's arm a small, reassuring squeeze.
”Come on. Let’s get you ready for bed.”
Then, lighter.
”Cant’t have your eyes get tired from rolling them at Sonic all day.”
Rouge crossed the room quietly as she reached the small wardrobe. The doors swung open with ease. Her hands found a soft, folded nightgown. She closed the dresser behind her as she walked back to Amy. Her hands lifted forward just enough to offer the clothes to Amy, Her eyes still holding that usual glint of mischief that came like a package deal, just now wrapped in something softer.
Amy grabbed the clothes carefully, her fingers twitching beneath the fabric. It was light, soft, with ruffles sticking out from beneath the folds. She lifted herself up from the mattress, her feet guiding her quietly behind a dressing screen.
As her day’s clothing slid off, she let out a breath of relief, like the clothes held the weight of the day she now had finally gotten to release.
The nightgown draped over her easily. White in color, with a square neckline that didn’t threaten to strangle her in her sleep. She gave it one twirl, smoothing out any edges that had gotten stuck during the change.
Finally, she padded back out into the main bedroom, Her dirty apron and dress hanging off of her arm as she hung them up behind the door. In just a few small strides, she reached her bed and collapsed dramatically into the pillows. Letting out a muffled, “Hmph.”
Rouge had already found her way back to her own bed, just beside Amy’s. She was sat up with covers draped loosely over her legs. The small pull of the blanket, along with her half grin gave away her amusement.
The candle that had once lain on the vanity, now sat more than half melted on the nightstand between them. Rouge leaned over on one elbow as she inhaled and blew the flame out.
The room stilled into a gentle silence.
Settling back down into her pillow, she tucked the covers snugly over her shoulders. Her hand gave a small practiced motion as she draped part of the sheets over her eyes.
”Night Ames.” Rouges called over her shoulder as she rolled deeper into her bed.
Amy looked over at Rouge, a small smirk landing on her cheeks as she pulled up her thin sheets over her figure.
”Goodnight Rouge.”
The room finally settled into quiet that only came once everyone was asleep to witness it. The room carried the sounds of their mismatched breathing and the occasional soft breeze against the window.
Amy had her eyes closed, laying on her back. Her mind wandered. It came with a tumbleweed of lists and wedding preparations. As each thought rolled past her, her body began to drift off.
What she didn’t expect was for her mind to land on one last thought. A warmth against her back, torchlight illuminating half a face, and silence formed by a man who had formed barely two sentences before walking away.
Be careful.
It was different. She wouldn’t let herself believe it meant more than a comment. Yet sleep took her hand gently, and led her into rest with the thought of a knight the last thing she remembered.
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The darkness cloaked around her. Pressing heavily against her mind as quiet came, not night, something heavier—thicker. Almost solid.
She wasn’t sure when she woke up, or when her feet had started carrying her like a frightened animal, only that it was already in motion.
Her breath hit heavily against her ears, suddenly quick and uneven. The strides she took were carried by pure instinct. The rhythm of her heartbeat pounded against her ribs.
A cloak that had placed itself onto her shoulders flew behind her like a flag. The darkness around her started to fade as a forest grew around her. Trees that were thick and tall, with fog that felt almost suffocating.
A wind howled against her quills, her eyes squinting against it . Dead leaves crunched beneath her feet, each step closer to nothing. A second pair joined her.
Behind her.
They were heavy, measured, and deliberate. They didn’t close the distance between them, but they were relentless. Following like an unspoken promise of:
I will catch you.
Her lungs ached, her mind begging for a stop, while her body screamed warning that if she did, the darkness would swallow her whole. The dry air carried the faint smell of soil, moss, and regret that stubbornly clung to her fur.
For just a moment she could hear the steps behind her change, quickening. Her foot caught onto a risen root, stumbling her forward onto a large fallen log. Her hands reached out and caught her, scraping slightly against the bark. Her palms stung as she fell into a sprint again.
The trees suddenly opened, her feet skidding on the ground that had now turned into stone. An edge of a cliff loomed before her. Slicing a clean cut of earth right in front of her. She peeked over the edge to be greeted by nothing but shadows.
Her head whipped back around as she heard the heavy footsteps behind her. She could only make out two red glowing eyes that peered from the forest. Its steps had slowed once their gazes met, stopping just before the treeline ended.
They stared at each other. Amy was unsure whether it was a showdown or some sort of horrific greeting. Slowly one foot stepped out into the opening. She flinched.
The shape was wrong, edges frayed like a shadow trying to hold the memory of form. The only thing that held itself together was its crimson eyes—steady and unblinking.
She swallowed, bracing her foot against the slippery stone as best she could. Her body tensed itself like it expected some sort of attack. But seconds passed, the wind blew between them, and one never came.
She stared at the beast's eyes with hesitance, and confusion. A lump barely making it past her throat. Her hands clenched in anticipation. Her head tilted slightly. She cautiously examined its gaze, and the longer she looked, the more realization seemed to dawn on her. Her eyes narrowed, not suspiciously, but more hesitant.
The creature's eyes weren’t vicious, or angry.
They were…nervous.
Unsure.
The creature didn't take another step towards her, but Amy could feel it. Their eyes met now, not in fear but recognition. She knew it could feel it too, how it shifted every so slightly towards her.
She took a small step forward, slow and surrendering. She could see it more clearly now. The shadows of its form flickered in waves , like smoke caught in a jar. Its eyes held hers, its shoulders rolling once, guarded by uncertainty.
She stopped only a foot away from it, enough to touch it if only she just reached out.
And she did.
Her hand twitched at her side, and slowly it rose. Her fingers reached out slightly. She could feel the heat radiating off of it. It felt alive—real even.
The beast's eyes glanced towards her fingers. Its face shifted towards them, watching. Waiting.
Before her fingers even grazed its form, the world shifted beneath her. The figure disappeared like a blown flame, causing her to flinch back slightly. The world wobbled as the floor beneath her cracked. Then swallowed her down into darkness.
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Amy’s eyes snapped open. Her breath was heavy as she took back in the room. Wooden walls and windows replaced the forest. Moonlight draped over her. She laid in the silence for a moment, her brain running to catch back up to reality. Her palms lay flat against her mattress, trying to ground her. She lifted one of them, inspecting it. She searched like she would find peeled skin from the bark, the feeling of stinging lingered before it disappeared. Her hands were clean, soft, with a callous at the base of her fingers from cleaning.
Slowly Amy rose off of her bed. Her sheets rolled away from her shoulders without fanfare, falling gently to the side. Sleep was a long distance away from reach, the only thing that clung was the memory of crimson eyes that still burned into her chest.
Not angry or full of rage. Fearful.
The air in the room felt like it had stilled, the breeze the was once outside had quieted down into a gentle draft.
Amy's feet felt the ground beneath her, it felt weird compared to the uneven forest floor she had just been running on. She took a step, testing her footing. Shifting her foot gently beneath the wood before she took another step. She moved across the room carefully, the floorboards creaking beneath her.
At the very end of her room stood an archway. Beautiful purple flowers dangled from the top, vines climbing down to the floor. Her figure passed through it to now stand on a balcony. The cool night air greeted her, carrying a faint smell of stone. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a soft shimmer along the edges of kingdom rooftops.
Amy walked up to the railing, leaning forward as she folded and rested her arms against it. A chill seeped into her skin, fanning away the rest of the lingering dream.
The silence was different out in the open air. Broader—it seemed to stretch endlessly across the horizon like a blanket. Her chest rose and fell deeper than it had in a while. Finally able to breathe.
A single small breeze brushed through her quills, her lashes lowering to the small town below.
The town was quiet and peaceful. The lights in the windows were off. Only the occasional mobian crossed the small gravel paths. Knights, late town workers, or the occasional drunk who was stumbling home from the tavern.
Just below her laid the castle gardens. A stone path twirled within it. It held a variety of flowers and plants, the grass green and cared for. It held a maze of hedges. A white arch marking the entrance.
As she observed the quiet of the evening, movement caught her eye. A small shift just below her. Her head turned down towards the sound of footsteps—neither rushed nor hurried—walking against the stone.
A figure cloaked in shadows walked with purpose, with the familiarity that showed they knew how many flowers were on the ground without counting. They walked into the stretch of grass that stood just in front of her balcony, then stopped.
Amy blinked, her fingers tightening around the rail with intrigue.
The figure lifted their head. Crimson eyes locked onto her emerald ones with unnerving precision. Amy's eyes widened in surprise as she found the familiar gaze. The stillness in the air shifted, not undisturbed, just noticed.
Shadow stood, one hand on the handle of his sword, the other hanging down to his side. He didn’t speak right away. He let her watch, let her gaze wash over him like that's what he wanted her to do.
”…You should be asleep,” he said at last.
His words carried up to her gently. It almost caught her off guard by the lack of bite they held. He said them like they were resting on his tongue long before he spoke.
Amy felt his words hit her. Her brain fumbling with them as she took a moment to process. Her eyes flickered across his form before she leaned her torso over the edge of the balcony.
”Couldn’t,” She said with a shrug and a small glance sideways. It was honest—too honest for how late it was.
The quiet stretched again, but she wasn’t rushing to fill it this time. His brow twitched like it wanted to raise, but wouldn’t. He offered a small nod, with an approving “Hmph.”
A tiny smile grew on Amy’s face, she held it back with a small bite of her inner cheek. Her heels lifted off the ground toward him. His eyes flickered down to her paws, his brow now finally giving in as it raised.
”Don’t lean to far”
”I’m not.” She responded quickly with a playful glance, testing the air between them.
He stared at her in mild disbelief as an amused huff left his mouth.
”Confident”
Her head leaned into her hand. “You’d catch me right?”
He didn’t speak quickly this time. Like he was analyzing the words and how deep they were offered.
”Yeah”
He said finally, softer now.
Then as an afterthought, walls came back up as his posture became more disciplined.
”It’s my duty to protect the future queen.”
The words landed like a rock on dirt. Blunt.
Amy's expression dropped slightly, her head nodding slowly. She looked away, like she had almost forgotten the shiny rock that had lain on her finger. She glanced back to him, softer now, respecting the walls he placed back between them.
”Right.”
The air whisked away the light banter they had just spoken. She sat back down onto her heels and stepped back from the ledge. His eyes followed her as she took a step back, his hand gripping harder on his handle.
She turned to walk back into her bedroom. Before she could step fully inside she heard his voice again, gentle, only by a little.
”Goodnight, Amy.”
She paused, looking back at him, her features eased and her mouth twitched upwards.
”Goodnight, Shadow…”
They stayed like that for a breath—maybe two. Then they both slowly turned and stepped away.
She gently walked back through the balcony archway, her fingertips tracing the wall. The silence no longer felt empty, it was charged. New.
As she returned to her bed, sleep came easier this time. No forest, no cliffs, no beasts, and no crimson eyes that held in the moonlight, or a voice that whispered—be careful…