The years had taught her many things. AvaLyn Rose had been a child without an identity. Her youth had been spent in isolation from the world she hungered for. She saw her sister grow and be the princess of the Trianthem, wearing the pin of royalty, while she was raised only as a silent and hidden guard for the safety of the princess, unadorned.

It wasn't so much that it was a bad existence, she had been well loved by her grandmother, but there was something within her that hungered, always empty. 

Youth hadn't been much different. She grew into her role, and considered herself little more than an extension. She lived to protect. Due to her efforts alone on several occasions, the lady of the Roses lived to breathe and marry and love and bear children and rule, while she herself had a barren womb, no one to touch her brow or comfort her fears. 

Disappointments had become so expected, that even the shadow creatures made up of them, were hardly noticed now in her daily walk. As she had grown into a woman, her eyes had been opened. Still, much evaded her. She still had only known briefly the touch of another, and always that touch resulted in deepening the chasm of her soul's emptiness. 

Now, now she was certain she was dead inside. Duty no longer pulled her. Birthright was a phantom. Love was a word she had no understanding of now... and pleasure brought only pain. . .