Page 5

CHAPTER 5

T hough its potency was lacking compared to the potions concocted by my father, my strengthening magic worked wonders—reinforcing my weakened body, increasing my endurance, and enabling me to endure the next several endless hours.

As I traveled, I looked for signs of the curse’s lingering mark upon the landscape. The farther we traversed, the more apparent it became that though many areas now thrived beneath the restored light, others still bore darkness’s silent scars. In some patches the vegetation was unexpectedly sparse; trees that should have been lush and vibrant were stunted and twisted, their branches clawing at the sky in silent agony, remnants of the blight that had once enveloped the kingdom. The cryptic words I had heard from the pool echoed ominously through my head as I saw the ugly evidence that the land still suffered from the curse’s influence.

While many plants found their niches, other species weren’t so fortunate. We passed through an area where the undergrowth should have been thick with ferns and wildflowers, only to find it eerily barren, the soil a discolored grey against the rich browns and greens typical of fertile ground, suggesting desecration had seeped deep into the earth itself. This blight seemed to spread unevenly—with patches of corrupted land interspersed with healthier stretches—painting a mosaic of recovery and lingering pain, as if the curse in its retreat had left behind tendrils, roots of darkness that continued to strangle parts of the land.

Whatever the quest before us, it would likely require more than simple counterspells or purifications to lift the curse entirely; we would need to find a way to unearth and sever these roots, an endeavor that likely demanded a deeper knowledge than I currently possessed…leading me to better understand why Prince Darcel preferred my father’s expertise to my inexperience.

As the sun sank lower and the first signs of twilight began to stain the sky in violet hues, my tonic’s effects began to wear off and my heavy pack once more pressed against my shoulders. At first I thought the increased weight was the result of the fading strengthening potion, but when I brushed the sheen of sweat lining my cheek I noticed that my skin had become supple and smooth, no sign of the prickled stubble created by my enchanted disguise.

My horrific gasp sounded loud enough to attract even the prince’s notice, pulling him out of his usual indifference. I hastily ducked my head as he glanced back at me, praying fervently that the fading light would shadow my shifting appearance.

“Is everything alright, Ren?” Kael’s cheerful voice felt out of place midst my storm of anxiety. I tried to stifle each shuddering breath as I nodded, afraid to speak lest my panic fail to mask my womanly voice.

The prince frowned but didn’t press the matter, yet I noticed he cast me more frequent glances as we continued to ascend the hill. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting elongated shadows across the rugged terrain. Though the dimming light offered some reprieve by softening the more distinctively feminine lines of my face, I kept my head lowered.

Grateful as I was for the concealment of darkness, I pushed down my rising discomfort as the light faded, attempting to keep my breathing steady. I had decided that room in my satchel was too precious to include the soothing charms I used at night to help me sleep, but now I regretted that as I not only had to sleep in the darkness, but to do so outdoors in the company of strangers.

Unfortunately the encroaching night couldn’t mask another challenge of maintaining my masculine guise as I labored beneath the growing weight of my pack. I strained to appear unaffected by its burden, but my smaller stature made the load feel disproportionately heavy.

The terrain became increasingly treacherous as night enveloped us, shrouding the path ahead in darkness and making each footfall uncertain. Loose stones and uneven ground threatened my balance, and I stumbled more than once, each misstep a sharp reminder of my inadequacy.

Fatigue gnawed at my muscles as the last of the strengthening potion finally wore off. My breaths came in short, sharp gasps and my pace faltered, each step more laborious than the last. I felt a growing sense of dread; it seemed only a matter of time before I would collapse beneath the weight of my supplies.

Just as I reached a particularly steep incline that in my overwhelm I had no idea how I would manage, I felt a sudden lightness as weight lifted from my weary shoulders. Surprised, I turned to find Prince Darcel beside me, his expression unreadable in the fading light. Without a word, he had taken my heavy pack, his posture easy beneath its weight as if it were no more than a child’s satchel.

“Careful,” he murmured, his eyes scanning the path ahead rather than settling on me. “The terrain here can be treacherous, especially to those unaccustomed to such burdens.”

I was momentarily lost for words, caught between relief and the pang of wounded pride, his unexpected assistance both a salvation and a silent acknowledgment of my struggles. I averted my gaze, hoping Prince Darcel’s pity would allow him to forgive the disrespectful gesture, but I couldn’t risk him examining my face too closely.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” I reluctantly managed, my strained voice rough with fatigue.

From my peripheral vision he merely nodded in response, adjusting the pack on his shoulders before continuing up the path, his ease with the heavy load a stark contrast to my own labored efforts.

Guided by the faint light of our torches, we pressed farther into the darkness. A complicated mix of gratitude for the prince’s rare show of courtesy and determination to not need his help again whirled within me with every step, reinforcing my resolve to prove myself capable.

After what felt like an eternity we reached the summit and the prince finally stopped. “We will camp out here for the night.”

I barely suppressed my whoosh of relief. Kael accepted the news graciously and began cheerfully unpacking our supplies, but Sir Jiang’s annoyed groan pierced the settling night.

“We would be able to travel farther if every member of the party was up to the task.” His complaint was loud enough he undoubtedly meant for me to overhear. A sharp retort burned my lips, but I couldn’t risk an argument that would draw further attention to myself. My fingers anxiously poked the feminine lines of my face, a futile attempt for the disguise to hold until I could steal a moment away.

“My orders are to be obeyed without unnecessary commentary, Sir Jiang,” Prince Darcel said. His knight offered an apologetic bow, but I could still feel the heat of his prickling gaze; I didn’t dare turn around lest his pointed attention notice my faltered disguise.

With the preparations to setup camp underway, I seized my chance to mend the unraveling edges of my facade. The rigors of the day had left me with more than just physical fatigue; my ruse felt perilously thin, on the brink of sliding off with the cold sweat dampening my skin that mingled with the dust kicked up by our travel. As I wiped smudges off my face, I had a moment’s longing for a proper bath before resuming my masculine guise, but sternly reminded myself that I had not come on this journey for comfort but to save my father…and now the kingdom as well.

I excused myself to gather some firewood, a plausible enough reason to steal away for the precious minutes I needed to fortify my magical disguise. I moved away from the flickering circle of firelight and found a secluded spot behind a thick copse of trees where the cloak of darkness provided ample cover to work unnoticed. While the oppressive darkness caused my muscles to tense in unease, my desperation to maintain my disguise was stronger. I knelt on the soft bank and dipped my hand into the babbling brook to wash away some of the sweat and dirt that marred my sunburnt face.

Next I pulled out the small kit from my satchel containing the necessary herbs and a compact mirror. I reapplied my illusion spell, then dipped into the paste to darken and reshape my jawline and brows, critical touches that maintained the hardness of my assumed identity.

As I was smoothing the lines with practiced fingers, a rustling noise alerted me to someone’s approach. Tensing, I hastily shoved the supplies into my bag and abruptly stood to face the intruder. Prince Darcel emerged, his expression unreadable in the dim light provided by the small paper lantern he carried.

“I noticed you left the camp.” His neutral tone carried an undercurrent of concern that immediately set me on edge. Though his concern appeared genuine, it drew unwanted attention that would only make my secrecy all the more challenging.

“I needed a moment,” I replied curtly.

I hoped my obvious annoyance would serve as an adequate hint for him to leave, but instead he drew closer. I took a hasty step away from the lantern light, afraid of illuminating my appearance until I double checked that the disguise had adequately masked my womanly features.

Seeming to sense my discomfort, he slowed. There was a pause, the only sound the soft crackle of distant firewood against the backdrop of night until he finally spoke. “The first few days of a journey are often the hardest, especially when one is unaccustomed to the pace.”

My brow furrowed. “Is this an apology?”

He shifted and avoided my eyes, his only response. My first reaction was frustration that his pride prevented him from uttering a simple apology until I remembered Kael’s earlier words: the years of darkness that ravaged the land affected all of us in different ways .

Considering how the curse’s lingering hold over my own heart occasionally cast shadows to darken my thoughts, it would be hypocritical not to extend grace to another victim of the darkness’s aftereffects, even as my stubbornness made me reluctant to concede even one victory in the battle of wills that had been raging between us from the moment he stepped into my shop.

I stifled a sigh, feeling the strain from the effort of keeping my voice low and steady with every spoken word. “I appreciate your concern, Your Highness, but I assure you I’m more than capable of handling the challenges of this journey.”

“Of course.” His tone softened slightly. “Just remember that my offer of help isn't a judgment. We all have our strengths, and a wise man knows when to lean on others. Your struggles in no way lessen your capabilities as an herbalist that we initially sought you out for.”

His words that he likely meant to reassure only reminded me of my precarious situation. “You seem determined not to make an enemy out of me.”

He made no denial to my accusation. “Don’t linger here too long; we have another long day ahead of us tomorrow.” The lantern swung gently at his side as he departed, leaving me engulfed in darkness.

I experienced a mixture of relief and frustration as I watched his retreating back. As much as I disliked the feeling, there was safety in being underestimated and ignored—the less scrutiny, the fewer expectations I had to fail. His notice only escalated the pressure bearing down on me, lest my deceit be exposed.

Prince Darcel’s gaze flicked my way when I rejoined the group to help set up camp for the night, but he otherwise made no acknowledgment of me or the awkward conversation that had transpired between us. As the twilight deepened, the group gathered around the campfire, our faces illuminated by the soft firelight. Their voices blended into a comfortable din of laughter and conversation as they bantered back and forth, sharing tales of past adventures.

I sat slightly apart, nursing a bowl of the stew Sir Jiang had cooked over the open fire. The rich smell of meat and herbs did little to ease the tension cinching my chest, nerves that made the hearty meal almost tasteless. I kept my gaze fixed on the dancing flames, only occasionally allowing my eyes to flicker towards the others laughing and jesting with ease.

Beneath the crackle of the fire and the jovial noise a cold thread of isolation wound its way through my heart. My presence on the outskirts felt symbolic of my place within the group—among them but not truly one of them, a stranger in the guise of a friend. The fear of discovery tightened my throat, stifling any attempt to join their camaraderie.

Sir Jiang steadily ignored me, but every so often Kael would throw a question or a playful jab in my direction. Despite his open friendliness, in my paranoia each inclusion seemed to test my integration into their circle. I responded with gruff nods or short, noncommittal grunts, mimicking the other men as best I could. Though I kept my voice carefully lowered, it still carried a softness I couldn’t entirely mask, making each word a potential slip that only heightened my ever-present anxiety.

Prince Darcel’s keen observation seemed to notice my reticence. His eyes occasionally met mine from across the fire, a silent question in their depths. Each time I would quickly look away, feigning interest in my food to avoid his scrutiny. The others didn’t seem to notice my discomfort, absorbed in Kael’s tale as he regaled the group with a particularly harrowing story from his travels, eliciting roars of laughter. I forced a smile, my laugh a hollow echo of theirs.

As the night deepened, emboldened by the shared warmth of the campfire, the conversation took a sudden, alarming turn. With a hearty chuckle Kael suddenly clapped me on the back, the force of which nearly sent me careening off the log where I perched.

“You’ve been awfully quiet, Ren, leading me to believe your thoughts are elsewhere, and I have a suspicion as to where they’re dwelling…or more accurately with whom . We've all traded tales of battles and beasts, but what of battles of the heart? Any fair maiden back home who's captured your fancy?”

The question caught me off guard. “What? A…fair maiden?” I struggled to maintain a composed exterior, mindful of the need to respond in a manner befitting my guise. “There's not much to tell.”

My stammer clearly convinced no one, for all the men leaned in, their expressions a mixture of amusement and curiosity.

With a sly grin Kael nudged me with his elbow. “Come now, no man travels with such a heavy heart as you’ve demonstrated unless it's laden with thoughts of someone special. Surely someone has captured your interest. Who is she? I assure you you're among friends here.”

The warmth of the fire paled in comparison to the heat deepening my cheeks from their intense scrutiny. Unbidden, my gaze darted in Prince Darcel’s direction, a lapse in judgment that sense immediately protested—that odious royal was the last man on earth I would ever be interested in. Yet for all my effort, a flush crept up my neck, leaving me grateful for the darkness that hid my ongoing discomfort.

“There’s no one.” I hoped that even in my desperation I sounded nonchalant and masculine. “My apprenticeship with my father has left little time for romance.” I prayed they would leave it that; the question of love—usually so innocuous—felt like navigating a minefield in my current guise, any answer I might give bringing me closer to a slip I couldn't afford.

Oblivious to my discomfort, Kael’s arm came around my shoulders, causing me to instinctively stiffen. “Even if I wasn’t practiced in the art of lying, that blush has given you away.” He poked my cheek with a friendly jab, and it took every ounce of discipline not to flinch or touch my cheek to ensure it was still shadowed with false stubble.

Prince Darcel had been thoughtfully observing the interaction. “Duty can be a rather lonely path. Surely you must have thought about love, even if you haven't had the time to pursue it.”

I felt an unexpected pang at the mention of loneliness—a feeling I’d become all too familiar with since Mother’s death, even with my dear father’s company—and gratefully seized the opening he’d unintentionally given me. “It appears as if the prince has experience in romance.”

He shook his head. “Though I have no doubt a political arrangement with a princess or even a noble lady is in my future, for now my duties keep me occupied. Even if I had time, pursuing romance would be pointless as I will have little say in choosing a wife.”

An unexpected emotion flared to life at his words—one almost akin to jealousy at the thought of his future marriage—but I didn’t allow myself to examine it too closely before I hastily squelched it.

Sir Jiang gave the prince a hearty slap to his shoulder. “A man dedicated to his duty is as noble as any knight dedicated to a lady, but your time will come.”

For a brief moment the prince looked almost wistful, but the expression faded to his usual stoic manner so quickly that I wondered if I’d imagined it.

Their laughter resumed, their banter on which lucky woman would one day find herself wed to the prince filling the space. I tried to tune out their speculation, grateful the conversation had mercifully shifted away from me and territories that threatened to expose more than I could afford. Eventually the focus drifted to other topics and I let out a silent breath of relief.

When the hour grew later, we unrolled our bedrolls around the amber embers from the fading campfire. I hoped sleep would provide a momentary reprieve from my anxiety, but the first night on the ground beneath the vast canopy of stars proved more arduous than I had anticipated. After the exhaustion from the day’s march, sleep should have claimed me swiftly, yet the discomfort of my surroundings kept me painfully alert—I had never slept in the presence of a man—not even my father—only to now find myself trapped within a prison formed by the bodies of three very male strangers.

The men around me settled into their rhythms of sleep, unaware of my constant vigil. I lay stiffly on the rough ground, my bedroll wedged uncomfortably close between Kael and Sir Jiang. Every so often someone shifted or mumbled in his sleep, while their snores—a cacophony of grunts and sharp exhales—pierced the quiet of the night, echoing strangely across the open landscape. Each sound and movement heightened my awareness that I was an imposter in this rugged band of travelers. My unease twisted, a knot of worry at odds with the serene beauty of the starlit sky.

As the night stretched on I grew more accustomed to the presence of my sleeping companions, though the aches of sore muscles only grew stronger. Careful not to disturb the others, I shifted slightly in search of a less rocky patch of ground and pulled my cloak tighter around myself, trying to carve out a small cocoon of privacy and warmth midst the chilly night. With each passing hour the reality of the days ahead weighed more and more heavily. How many nights would I be forced to endure like this? Would I even be able to maintain this facade in such close quarters?

Suddenly Sir Jiang’s massive figure rolled over, his arm landing heavily across my chest with the force of being pinned by a fallen log. I uttered a breathy gasp of pain as the sudden weight forced the air from my lungs, struggling not to cry out from the unexpected pressure. Carefully, I wriggled out from under his arm, trying desperately not to disturb him and attract unwanted attention to myself.

My scooting abruptly stilled when I found myself laying just a few paces from Prince Darcel. My breath caught. My first instinct was to edge as far away as possible, even if it risked getting crushed once more by Sir Jiang’s girth, yet some unknown force prevented me from moving.

The proximity sent an unfamiliar thrill of anxiety mixed with an inexplicable anticipation I couldn’t explain, providing an unexpected challenge beyond the mere discomfort of the hard ground and the chorus of snores. I tried to awkwardly contort my body in an effort to make myself smaller, but the futile gesture did little to prevent me from brushing against him, each touch sending a jolt through me that wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

The memory of my drifting gaze during the uncomfortable conversation concerning my romantic interests returned full force. Suddenly desperate for distance, I hastily wriggled a few inches away and rolled over, putting my back to him, but the gesture did little to lessen the effect created by his presence.

Sleep that had been difficult before now felt impossibly elusive. I tried mimicking the deep, unconscious patterns of those around me by taking slow, measured breaths in hopes of relaxing the tension holding me in its relentless grip, but the task proved futile with my mind racing with thoughts of discovery and the prince’s unnerving proximity.

A cold wind suddenly swept through the camp, causing me to shiver, my cloak insufficient against the chill. My chattering teeth and my restless shifting must have woken the prince, for he suddenly stirred. I stiffened, listening with bated breath as he sat up and leaned over me, the heat of his stare both piercing and comforting at once.

Cradling warmth unexpectedly enveloped me. In my surprise it took me a moment to realize that Prince Darcel had draped his own fur-lined cloak over me. The fabric was heavy and warm, infused with the faint, alluring scent of pine and leather. I peeked over to see him turned away, feigning sleep.

My heart gave an unexpected flutter, even as annoyance surged that once again my weakness hadn’t gone unnoticed. In my stubborn pride I was tempted to remove the cloak, but the warmth was too comforting and my body too weary to protest his consideration. I pulled the cloak more tightly around me, feeling strangely protected.

Despite the lingering discomfort from the ground and camping outdoors, a sense of peace settled over me. The stars began to blur as sleep claimed me, finally closing the first endless day of many in this strange quest that already had taken an unexpected turn.