CHAPTER 13

T he endurance rendered by the trek faded into oblivion, entirely eclipsed by mortification as I relived the scene that had just transpired between me and the prince in every horrific detail. I couldn’t believe sense had escaped me long enough for me to touch his chest. In that moment I’d seemed to possess no thought at all, so hypnotized by the vivid sight before me that I hadn’t been able to resist the siren’s call that seduced my fingers.

I repeatedly obsessed over the interaction, scrutinizing it from every angle. Regardless of my flimsy excuse, I was a commoner who had inappropriately touched our kingdom’s prince while masquerading as a man. If His Highness analyzed the exchange close enough, would he be able to unravel my disguise and discover my true identity?

Midst my agonizing internal battle I sensed my lantern’s bemused observation from where it swung attached to the handle of my satchel, and it occasionally felt the need to interject with its unhelpful commentary. “It shouldn’t matter what the prince thinks of you, considering technically Ren doesn’t exist.”

Lumis was right. I stung at the reminder that no matter how deep my growing feelings towards the prince became, he couldn’t see my true self behind the illusion crafted by my disguise.

At first I naively hoped that Prince Darcel had been unbothered by my breach in etiquette, but I quickly noticed he seemed to be avoiding me. Whereas he’d previously frequently glanced back to check on me, now he seemed to be determinedly avoiding my eyes; whenever he happened to glance my way, it appeared as though he wasn’t really looking at me, as if I’d faded into the background as nothing more than part of the mountainous scenery.

I tried to soothe my worry with empty reassurances that the prince was simply performing his duties with his usual single-minded focus, but his distance became increasingly difficult to continue to ignore, especially when we finally took a much needed break after cresting the mountain’s first steep incline.

My anxiety made it impossible to enjoy the fresh water from the nearby stream or the shade cast by the canopy of trees that protected us from the sun’s harsh rays. For as concerned as he’d been about my well-being before our rest, he made no effort to check on me now, as if afraid of drawing too close after my inappropriate conduct…which made me feel he was drifting farther from me.

“He is definitely ignoring you.” Lumis stated in a far too cheerful tone. “Things are quite awkward.”

I released a defeated groan, too disheartened to even continue my previous narrative of indifference that had occupied my thoughts for so long. I’ve ruined everything .

“Perhaps, but if nothing else, at least this situation has caused you to stop lying to yourself: you are growing to care for the prince and want to draw closer to him.”

I stared longingly towards where Prince Darcel sat conversing with his other companions some distance away, his body angled so that his back faced me, as if he’d deliberately used his body to erect a wall between us. I imagined all sorts of reasons that might be occupying his thoughts, each worse than the last.

Can you peer inside his heart to see what he thinks of me? I pleaded to my lantern. Although I was terrified of the potential answer, the not knowing was far more torturous.

With an impatient sigh Lumis obediently extended its golden light towards where the prince sat, enveloping him in a halo that illuminated not just his expression but the shady area around him. “Hmm, interesting.”

What do you see?

But my lantern remained stubbornly silent, without even a hint of what the prince could possibly be thinking, which only extended my agony.

As if sensing the invisible light cast upon him, Prince Darcel suddenly cast a sideways glance in my direction. Our eyes met briefly before he hastily yanked his gaze away again.

I sighed. Perhaps I had brought this upon myself. From the moment we’d met I’d insistently created distance between us, but it was quite different being on the receiving end. Though initially caution had held me back, I’d still been within control, as if I stood on one end of a bridge with him on the other side, within reach the moment I gained enough bravery to cross over to him.

However, now my falter in judgment seemed to have shattered that bridge, leaving an ever-widening chasm between us that felt impossible to breach…which only made me realize how desperate I was to do so. Rather than being a protection, this separation only confirmed how much I wanted to get close to him.

I sensed Lumis’s amusement as he observed these revelations. “At least you’ve finally stopped lying to yourself; that had long grown tiresome. Perhaps this shift will compel you to take action; from what I perceived in His Highness’s heart, the situation isn’t as dire as you fear.”

Warmth encased my heart at these words. I stole another tentative peek at the same moment Prince Darcel cast me another uncertain glance, catching my expression before I could fully mask my pout. Remorse fleetingly flickered and he excused himself from Sir Jiang and Kael to approach.

Despite this being the outcome I’d yearned for, my heart flared in panic. He’s coming this way!

“I can see that,” was my lantern’s wry response.

I instinctively brushed my dampened hair from where it stuck at awkward angles against my sweaty brow, smoothing it out before hastily checking the feminine gesture and resting my shaking hands in my lap.

Prince Darcel paused several meters away, a gap that was somehow much too close, still shirtless with the full range of his muscles on display. I instinctively swiveled around, doing my best to keep my gaze averted. I wanted to plead with him to put on a shirt, but was terrified of reminding him of the last time his chiseled chest had been my focus.

Even without witnessing his expression I sensed his confusion. “Are you determined to keep me at a distance again?” The frustration filling his voice caused my rebellious heart to lift, giving me hope that he welcomed my company…a contradiction to my current desperation to avoid his while he was in such a state of undress.

With a wavering breath I turned with a forced smile that seemed to do little to appease him. “For once I am not the one currently creating distance, Your Highness.”

His awkward silence only confirmed he understood my unspoken implication. Uncertain of where to look, I settled for the ground, considering the sky would force my gaze to pass his chest, a scenario that felt far too dangerous.

Midst the suffocating tension, my mind whirled for something to say. When I continuously came up blank, Lumis offered his unsolicited advice. “You should apologize for earlier.”

My pride stung at the thought, but it was a far preferable emotion to the agony I’d created by inadvertently pushing him away. I took a wavering breath. “I didn’t mean…that is, earlier when I—” I directed my fumbled words to the ground where I still determinedly stared, my heart beating uncomfortably.

Prince Darcel didn’t immediately respond, waiting for me to continue, but I didn’t have the strength to address my mortification in further detail. The rustle of fabric eventually broke the unbearable silence. I lifted my gaze just enough to see him pulling his shirt back on, finally covering the chest that had been the source of our current awkwardness.

“You seem to be a modest lad. I didn’t mean to create an awkward situation for you, nor to make you feel bad about your shyness by ignoring you. My apologies.”

“I hadn’t noticed you’d deprived me of your prestigious company, Your Highness.” My nerves made my voice airy and too high-pitched for my disguise. “But considering you had, I regret my contribution to the cause.”

He chuckled. “I suppose that’s all I will get for an apology, but considering our previous contention before our truce it’s a start.” He sounded much more cheerful, providing relief that perhaps he was no longer upset.

His tone beckoned my still hesitant gaze, captured by the friendliness reflected in his eyes. “So you forgive me?”

He nodded. “It was rather awkward…but I don’t think you meant any harm. You’re a scrawny lad so I can see why you’re impressed…” He cleared his throat and didn’t say anything more, as if determined to put the matter firmly behind us, grace that left me deeply grateful.

I bowed my head. “I appreciate your consideration, Your Highness.”

He shifted, seeming trapped by the same embarrassment that had ensnared me earlier. “I’d be remiss as a leader if I allowed such a trivial matter to stand in the way of my comrades’ well-being. You were quite exhausted earlier and I’m still concerned about heat stroke. Are you getting sufficient rest?”

I gave a tentative nod and stood, but the hasty movement made me wobble, causing me to nearly lose my balance. Prince Darcel stepped closer, falling for the ploy that my body had subconsciously made to beckon him nearer.

He sighed. “Why do you repeatedly insist on pushing yourself beyond your limits? You have nothing you need to prove.” He put his hands on my shoulders and firmly pushed me back down. I flinched from his touch, effectively ruining all the progress our recent conversation had made.

“I’ll be fine after making some recovery potions.” I opened my satchel, busying myself with my plants to hide the blush he would once more mistake for heat stroke. Though I was grateful for the excuse to gather myself, I didn’t find the solace I usually did with my herbs and brews.

Prince Darcel lingered a few minutes longer, as if to assure himself I was truly alright. My gaze kept repeatedly darting towards him, causing my hands to fumble and me to repeatedly accidentally almost add the wrong ingredients.

We rested another hour before resuming our ascent. Though our reconciliation made the journey much more bearable, I still found the prince’s presence cumbersome, though for a far different reason than before. I didn’t miss the impenetrable, exhausting walls I’d erected over my heart as they began to slowly lower, but their diminishing left me vulnerable to the unwanted truths concerning my deepening feelings I could no longer protect myself from, affecting each subtle interaction.

This agony continued over the next several days of travel. Rather than my internal battle and the journey’s exertion growing easier, each day became more unbearable than the last. It took three days for us to reach the top of the mountain, a journey undoubtedly made even lengthier thanks to my continued struggle. While Sir Jiang made little effort to hide his impatience, Prince Darcel seemed unusually understanding, which only endeared him further to me.

I’d thought the trek to the forgotten temple had been steep, but that was nothing to the challenging terrain leading up to ginsei-zan peak. The path was treacherous and unstable, and even with the aid of my potions my muscles began to strain and burn, becoming a relentless test of my endurance and will.

The first challenge came in the form of a heavy rainstorm that swept through the mountain pass on the second day of our ascent, causing visibility to drop to mere feet in front of us. The relentless downpour turned the narrow paths into treacherous streams of mud and stone, slowing our progress to a painstaking, slippery crawl. Hunched against the cold, I busied myself with preparing herbal tonics from the supplies I had meticulously packed—concoctions brewed to ward off the chill and damp that threatened to seep into our bones that became as vital to our survival as the food in our packs.

The terrain grew increasingly formidable the higher we climbed. Narrow ledges skirted yawning chasms that plunged into fog-shrouded depths, and steep inclines were slick with ice, demanding precise footwork and unyielding concentration. I found myself relying heavily on the prince’s steady hand and keen eye to find safe passages through the most perilous stretches.

The altitude also began to take its toll as we ascended beyond the tree line into a world of wind-scoured rock, further testing and tempering our resolve. Headaches pounded at my temples with each step, a relentless drumbeat in sync with my thudding heart, similar strain I saw etched on the faces of my companions. Nausea soon became a constant companion, while dizziness made our precarious footing even more dangerous. We were forced to moderate our pace, taking frequent breaks to allow our bodies to acclimate to the thinning air.

The days stretched on, marked by the sun’s slow crawl across the sky and the gradual decrease of our supplies…though I was never left in a state of true want, considering how often Prince Darcel shared his own meager resources with me. As grateful as I was for his consideration, I knew he was only looking after me as he might a younger brother. Even so, I cherished every moment I received his help—each ledge we crossed and cliff we scaled drew my heart closer to him, each shared hardship and moment of vulnerability chipping away at the walls I’d built around myself until the last of my resistance to my budding feelings towards him finally crumbled.

On the third day as we neared ginsei-zan summit, the terrain shifted dramatically, the landscape opening up to reveal a sprawling vista of snow-capped peaks under a clear blue sky. Standing atop the world, I felt a subtle thawing of the frost that had encased the last of my tentative trust. Despite the doubts that lingered like shadows at the edge of my thoughts, I knew that this journey had changed me, binding me and the prince together in ways that would not easily be undone.

I had begun this quest as a girl with little idea of her own identity and ability, one with a grudge against the prince and his apparent arrogance. Now I was being stretched physically by the arduous climb, mentally by my role in decoding riddles and embracing my ancestry, and most of all emotionally by my evolving feelings that I was forced to keep concealed. Yet even if the prince never knew my true identity, I would be grateful for this time together…even if at the moment each breath came painfully as we toiled upward.

When we crested the final rise, the summit unfolded before us in an expanse of jagged rock and sparse vegetation, the air thin and biting against our skin. The curse’s lingering hold was apparent in the surrounding landscape, jagged scars to the tranquil beauty we’d experienced during our ascent.

As we made our way up the final narrow path towards ginsei-zan where the elusive moonsilver herb was said to grow, a strange mist similar to the one that had guarded the temple rose from nowhere, enveloping us in a ghostly shroud with tendrils of wispy darkness. Whispers floated on the wind—a haunting melody that seemed to emerge directly from the shadows, urging us to turn back. I felt a phantom tugging sensation at my satchel, as though the curse intended to sabotage our mission by stealing my supplies. Expression tense, Prince Darcel glanced back at me, seeking an explanation.

Fear shrouded me as the curse’s taunts worked upon my heart. With effort I closed my eyes, trying to instead listen to the sounds that extended beyond the mist’s reach, my ear attuned to the change in the plants.

“This mountain still bears the scars of the curse,” I murmured. “Even though its reign has been broken, the darkness doesn’t yield so easily. Its influence seems stronger at an elevation closer to the night sky, giving it power to frighten us and encourage us to give up.” I pulled my cloak tighter around me, a subconscious attempt to shield myself.

As we pressed onward the whispers grew louder, morphing into chilling wails that seemed to echo the despair once cast over the land by the eternal night. While Kael observed the mystical force with an air of nervous fascination, Sir Jiang clenched his fists, his eyes darting around as if expecting spectral foes to emerge from the shadows.

The peak grew steadily nearer as we continued despite the curse’s resistance, and I marveled to see features slowly come into view; I’d seen pictures all my life but had never envisioned myself climbing this magical slope. Amid my excitement at finally discovering a place from one of the fairytales that had been a source of comfort and joy throughout my childhood, my heart prickled. Thinking of this story always reminded me of the nights my mother spent reading this tale and others to me, one of the few precious moments I remembered from my dear mother that the passage of time caused to fade more from my memory.

Sir Jiang, ever the skeptic, grunted as I excitedly shared details from her stories. “And you believe such tales?”

“I do,” I replied with quiet confidence. “It’s said that these fields and gardens were once favored by lunar deities, spirits of the moon who would descend to wander the silver fields. They bestowed blessings of clarity and light, particularly on nights when the moon is fullest.”

“The same moon whose light we need to cultivate the moonsilver herb,” Prince Darcel mused, his voice thoughtful as he considered the intertwining of legend with our present quest.

I nodded. “It’s also said that the spirits guard these places against the remnants of darkness, ensuring that the curse can never fully reclaim the mountain. Perhaps in seeking the herb, we’ll be able to receive a portion of this protection in the spell we craft to release the darkness’s lingering hold upon the kingdom.”

My voice acted as a steady thread in the unsettling chorus of the cursed mountain’s resistance.

Encouraged by the tale I’d shared, we continued forward with new resolve, not merely scaling a mountain but stepping into a legend, ready to reclaim a piece of the light that had once defeated the darkness. As we explored I considered the story from every angle, wondering how much was merely a legend or if there was another clue hidden beneath its meaning that would lead us to the ingredient we sought.

Though the moonsilver herb was rumored to be here, its presence was not immediately apparent. The landscape was dominated by sheer cliff faces and deep crevices where the wind howled mournfully through narrow passes. While the others investigated an area some distance away, Prince Darcel’s search drew him close, causing my heart to flare in its now habitual response to his proximity.

I scanned the precarious edges for any sign of the elusive herb. “The legend certainly didn’t exaggerate the difficulty.”

His gaze was equally intent on the craggy terrain. “Unfortunately it did not. What else do you know about this herb?”

As I stared out across the jagged terrain, I felt a stir of intuition that perhaps there was more to this landscape than met the eye. Drawing on my herbalist’s sense, I realized that the story of the mystical garden I’d grown up with might be more than a legend—hidden not out in the open but veiled by enchantment to protect the sacred plants the peak faithfully guarded.

“I think the garden might be concealed by magic,” I mused. “If the legends are true, then the entrance might only reveal itself under certain conditions.”

Prince Darcel watched, intrigued, as I knelt beside a particularly gnarled crevice. I withdrew a small pouch from my bag, containing a blend of herbs known for enhancing perception and revealing hidden truths— hikari sou petals for clarity, ground senshin so for sharpening the senses, and a pinch of noctis root for piercing veils of darkness and illusion…the very herbs I’d noticed during our journey through the valley some days earlier, as if the landscape had been part of the peak’s test to ensure that only true herbalists would be able to access this hidden location.

Carefully, I sprinkled the powdered herbs into the crevice, whispering an old incantation I had learned from Father. I saw Prince Darcel watching me curiously, leaning slightly towards me as though trying to listen, his eyes gleaming with interest. I faltered, pausing before beginning to whisper even more quietly, trying to ignore the anxiety that rose inside me when speaking a spell with an audience.

As I continued to speak in a barely audible tone, the words echoed softly off the stone, as if the mountain itself was listening. I closed my eyes and slowly extended my senses, feeling for the subtle pull of magic that might guide us.

As the final word of the spell passed my lips, a soft silver glow began to emanate from within the crevice, growing steadily in brightness. The wind’s mournful howl shifted to a harmonious whisper, as if beckoning us forward along a glowing trail that led to a large, seemingly impenetrable rock face.

Upon closer inspection, I noticed faint, almost imperceptible markings on the rock—symbols of the moon and stars entwined with herbal motifs. I touched each symbol gently with my fingertip coated with the herbal blend I’d just concocted, channeling a small burst of magic through my touch. With a rumble that seemed to come from the very heart of the peak, the rock face slowly shifted, revealing a hidden path that led into the mountain itself.

Prince Darcel let out a startled exclamation, Kael leaned forward with eager curiosity, and even Sir Jiang allowed himself a moment to stare in awe before reclaiming his stoic expression. He tapped a fingertip on the rock impatiently. “Are we going in?”

I exchanged a look with Darcel before lifting Lumis and stepping forward. The path spiraled gently upwards, the walls of the tunnel shimmering with a soft silver light that matched the glowing trail. The air grew warmer and more fragrant as we ascended, filled with the scents of a myriad of unknown flowers until the tunnel opened out onto the moonlit garden situated on the very crest of the mountain.

My breath caught as I paused to marvel at our destination we’d been seeking for days. Prince Darcel stepped up beside me, bending to examine a tiny, intricate blossom at his feet before turning his face up towards the moon, which had never seemed so large or so close before. I felt the warmth of his shoulder that nearly brushed mine as we stood silently together.

The moon hung low in the sky, casting its serene sheen over a garden that seemed to exist outside of time itself. The reality of the wondrous place surpassed even the tales I’d spent years immersed in—a breathtaking tapestry of silver-leaved plants and shimmering flowers, each leaf and petal reflecting the ethereal moonlight, just as the legends had described. The luminescent silver glow rivaled the stars above us, bathing the hidden enclave.

A cobblestone path meandered through the garden, its twists and turns inviting us deeper through the splendor. As we followed it, the air around us shimmered with gentle, palpable magic—the pure aura that could be found in such a sacred place. But for all its enchantment and beauty, there was no sign of the moonsilver plants we sought.

Discouragement pressed against my heart, made sharper with Sir Jiang and Kael’s frustrated glances in my direction. “Did he bring us here to look at a pretty garden?” Sir Jiang muttered as he stomped along the path.

The insecurities and inadequacies I had struggled to suppress surged forth, gnawing at me with doubts about my skills as an herbalist and the fear that I had misinterpreted the riddle and misled the entire entourage.

Amid my inner turmoil, a faint, almost imperceptible whisper caressed my thoughts. With a deep breath I closed my eyes, allowing calm to settle over me so I could better focus on the quiet voice.

“Shine my light in the garden.” Lumis’s gentle instructions penetrated the fog of anxiety. I unattached my lantern from my satchel and held it aloft. Its warm light cast a golden shimmer amongst the silvery glow of the garden; beneath its illumination, the hidden moonsilver plants appeared one after another, emerging from the protective enchantment that had shielded them from view.

With the illusionary veil lifted, the moonsilver herbs were visible throughout the mystical landscape, nestled amongst other ethereal flora that flourished in this enchanted realm, their silvery leaves aglow. On the edges of my vision, shadowy figures flitted about. If I looked at them directly they vanished, but peripherally I could just make out their graceful movements as they ministered to the plants with loving hands. I cast a glance towards Darcel to see if he noticed them as well and saw him rubbing his eyes and squinting, as if trying to focus.

“Is something…moving?” he asked me in a hushed tone.

“I believe these are the spirits I told you of,” I answered reverently. “I’ve never met anyone who had the privilege to see them.”

At last we’d found the ingredient we’d come for, thriving beneath the tender care of the moon’s children , hidden from the world by magic and mystery … just as the ancient riddle had described.

Aware of the sanctity of the place, I approached the gathering of the moonsilver herb with a reverent caution. With careful movements, I harvested what we needed, ensuring not to disturb the garden’s delicate balance. Each snip of my shears was guided by a sense of deep gratitude and awe for the beauty and serenity that surrounded us, the only tribute I currently had to offer. The act felt more like a ritual than mere gathering, a communion with the mountain and its ancient, moonlit secrets. The ethereal beings drew back, as though giving permission for me to take what I needed. I bowed my head in grateful acknowledgement.

Another movement caught my eye and I glanced sideways to see Kael a short distance from the rest of the group, kneeling by a patch of pearl-grey plants. For a moment it seemed as though he’d slipped something in his pocket, but as I watched him more closely he simply gazed at the herbs for a moment before standing.

I turned back to the moonsilver, tucking the precious leaves into a small pouch and securing it in my satchel. Once the task was complete, we took a moment to rest, allowing the peace and the surreal beauty of our surroundings to soothe the exhaustion from our climb before our challenging return journey down the peak. The magic of the garden—now carried within the moonsilver herb—promised a new hope and strength for the trials that lay ahead on our quest.