Chapter 5

The weight of the crown felt heavier than its gold and jewels suggested. Today was the day. The day I, Isabella Rosa Alexandro, officially became Queen of Northernglades. The kingdom was abuzz, every corner of the castle throbbing with frenetic energy. Maids scurried, adjusting drapes and polishing silverware. Guards, stiff and formal, stood like statues at every post.

My own personal hurricane was Nadia, my ever-efficient maid. She flitted around me, smoothing my gown, adjusting my hair, and making sure every detail was perfect. Hours bled together in a blur of silks and scents, the meticulous grooming a necessary prelude to the daunting responsibility that awaited.

Finally, the trumpets blared, their fanfare cutting through the air like a knife. A wave of anxiety washed over me as I stepped onto the balcony. A sea of faces stretched before me, a tapestry of my people, their hopes and expectations resting on my shoulders. I managed a smile, a gesture of reassurance, and my gaze found my parents in the crowd. A curtsey, a nod of acknowledgement, and then my father stepped forward.

"Do you, Isabella Rose Alexandro, accept the throne of Northernglades Kingdom and promise to rule and care for your people and home?" His voice boomed, amplified by magic, yet his smile was gentle, filled with pride.

"I do," I replied, my voice clear and strong despite the tremor in my heart. I clutched the ceremonial staff and golden orb, symbols of my power and responsibility, trying to project an image of unwavering confidence.

My father removed my simple circlet and replaced it with the Queen's crown. The weight of it settled on my head, a tangible reminder of the burden I now carried. "Please give it up for your new Queen of Northernglades!"

The roar of the crowd was deafening, a wave of sound that crashed over me. The rest of the day was a whirlwind of meetings, parties, and endless photographs. I answered questions, made polite conversation, and tried to absorb the enormity of my new role. But beneath the surface, a feeling of unease began to fester.

Finally, as the last of the guests departed and the castle settled into a semblance of quiet, I retreated to my room, my sanctuary. The opulent decorations felt suffocating after the constant attention. I walked to the window, my favorite spot, and sank onto the cushioned seat. The view usually soothed me, the rolling hills of Northernglades stretching out before me.

But tonight, something was different. A shadow lurked in the distance, a dark figure standing silhouetted against the twilight. It was too far away to make out details, but I could sense it, him, staring at me. A shiver traced its way down my spine. He seemed… to grin? I wasn't sure, shrouded as he was in a dark hood. Dangerous. That was the only word that came to mind.

Who was he? Was it my imagination playing tricks on me after such a long day?

I rose, intending to ask Wilson, my head guard, to check the grounds, but something caught my eye. Another gift bag sat near the balcony doors, untouched. I hadn't received this one during the day. Hesitantly, I approached it. Inside, I found a simple leather-bound notebook and a pen. A note lay on top.

My heart hammered against my ribs as I unfolded it. The handwriting was elegant, almost archaic.

"I know everything is strange, my darling.

So I got you this book for you to write everything you need out… or if you want to write to me ;)

I know you're curious, my dear. Don't worry, you will see me very soon. Just look out that window of yours. I will be right there waiting…

-Love, Shadow"

The note slipped from my trembling fingers. A chill colder than the night air swept through me. This wasn't just creepy; it was deeply unsettling. Someone was watching me, stalking me. And they were bold enough to leave me a message, a twisted invitation.

I rushed back to the window, peering into the darkness. The figure was still there, unmoving, a silent sentinel. My breath hitched in my throat.

Was this dangerous or...? Sweet?

No. No, Isabella. Don't even think like that. This was a stalker, a man who invaded my privacy and sent shivers down my spine for all the wrong reasons. This was wrong. So wrong.

So why did the idea of meeting him, of knowing who he was, feel so…right?

What was wrong with me? I was the Queen of Northernglades, a position of power and responsibility. I shouldn't be entertaining fantasies about a mysterious stalker. I needed to tell Wilson, to alert the guards.

But the thought of confiding in anyone, of exposing this strange secret, felt…unappealing. What would they think? That their new queen was naive, foolish, or worse – complicit?

I picked up the notebook, its leather cool against my skin. The pen felt like an extension of my hand. I opened to the first page, the blank paper a stark canvas for my thoughts. Sighing, I began to write, pouring out my fear, my confusion, and the unsettling thread of curiosity that wove through it all.

Maybe… maybe writing to him, even just in this notebook, would help me understand. Understand him, understand myself, and figure out what to do next. This shadowy figure had invaded my life. He would soon come to realize that I wouldn't be one to back down.