The frost-laden landscape stretches endlessly before us, and the farther we press into Varethian land, the more Elyndria feels like nothing more than a fading dream. Unlike the lush pines of my kingdom, these trees stand bare, with wiry limbs wrapped in ice that twist toward the sky like skeletal fingers. No birds call. No animals rustle through the decaying underbrush. Not even the wind stirs the brittle branches. A world of ice and silence is all that greets us--the kind that seeps into my bones, pressing against my ribs like a blade.

  The cold here is different too. It isn't just the bite of growing altitude—it's in the very marrow of the land, as though the earth itself is hollow and lifeless. Even the sky feels wrong, a vast canvas of muted gray that hides the sun behind unmoving clouds, rendering time meaningless. It could still be dawn. It could be approaching dusk. I wouldn't know the difference.

  However, the sting of my chapped cheeks and growing distance between me and my home are nothing compared to Rael's silence. Expected, yet somehow worse.

  His presence is solid and unmoving behind me, his arms resting loosely at my side as we ride, but he hasn't spoken since we left the boat. I can't see his face, but I don't need to. I can feel the tension in the way he grips the reins, the rigid line of his shoulders, the coiled restraint in his frame.

  At first, I believed it was because of the inn. Because of my question.

  But the farther we travel, the tighter the silence pulls around him, and I begin to wonder if it's something else entirely.

  The woods.

  A foolish thought--why would the wilderness unsettle a demon who had disemboweled six men without hesitation? And yet, a quiet unease lingers in the air, prickling against my skin.

  Sighing, I let my mind drift to safer places, slipping into memories of home--of the gardens, of my brother and I dueling invisible monsters beneath the shade of the willow trees. And for a moment, I can almost hear his laughter. For a heartbeat, I can picture the gleam of mischief in his eyes as we tumbled across the grass.

  It's just a childish memory, but even the bittersweet pull of the past is easier to bear than the weight of the present. Even the ache of homesickness is a kinder pain than the hollow, frigid emptiness pressing in around me.

  So, I sink further into those memories, allowing myself to feel the steady rock of the horse beneath me, the slow rise and fall of Rael's breath at my back, and the warmth seeping into my spine, until it all lulls me into something dangerously close to peace.

  And before I know it, my eyelids droop, and sleep drags me under.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  When my eyes flutter open again, the mountains loom closer, their jagged peaks slicing through the low-hanging clouds like blackened knives. The world is cloaked in deepening shadow, and the temperature has dropped further.

  Is the land always this bitter? I think, just as Rael pulls us to a stop in a small clearing.

  "We'll stop here for the night, the horse needs rest," he says, dismounting without waiting for a response. I slide down after him, wincing as my numb limbs protest at the movement. Even wrapping the cloak tighter around myself is a slow and stiff movement, one that does nothing to berate the gnawing chill.

  I look over to Rael, who wordlessly gathers wood before striking something that causes sparks to flare to life. His fingers glow red, and I squint through the dim evening light to see if he's shivering.

  Surely he is freezing but... I look down at the black fabric shrouding my body. I still have his cloak.

  More sparks flare, catching on the dry bark, and soon flames twist upward, their glow casting long shadows across the gnarled trees.

  I chew my lip, watching him as he stokes the fire. The tension in his shoulders hasn't eased.

  'Are you cold?' I want to ask, but I know he'll either increase the guilt rising in my gut or dismiss my question.

  "How much longer until we reach a village?" I inquire instead, breaking the silence.

  Rael doesn't look up, a strand of midnight hair falling into his eyes as he tends to the growing fire. "There are none."

  I blink. "What?"

  "Varethia isn't like Elyndria," he says, voice clipped. "No scattered towns. No outposts. Just one kingdom, nestled in the mountains." He tosses another piece of wood into the fire, the flames flaring with the impact. "Maybe that history book wasn't worth my effort."

  I bristle, but something about his words sparks recognition within me.

  I do remember.

  The Twelve Lords of Blackstone.

  They once ruled over their own villages until something darker claimed them, twisting them into creatures of darkness and deceit. And their villages-- they hadn't simply disappeared, they had burned.

  I swallow, glancing past the firelight, into the endless dark of the trees as I wonder if we could be making camp on top of the ruins of one of those villages.

  I shudder, unable to tear my gaze from the blackening woods. "Does anyone live out here?"

  Rael stills.

  It's brief—so brief I almost miss it—but something flashes across his face. His gaze follows mine, toward the trees, as if...as if he's checking.

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  I'm imagining things. I have to be.

  His fingers flex against his knee, then, finally, he looks at me. "No one you'd want to run into."

  Any other questions I have flood my brain. I walk closer to the fire—closer to Rael and his sword—before sitting down on a stump, focusing on the warmth of the flames.

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

  Somehow, the crackling fire and dance of sparking embers ease my nerves as the forest surrenders to night. The tension in my chest loosens further when the clouds begin to part, revealing a sky scattered with endless stars, gleaming like shattered glass against a deep blue canvas.

  Neither of us has spoken since, but I fear that any question I ask will only breathe life into my lingering dread, allowing it to fester.

  Instead, I focus on the cloudless sky, gasping as a streak of silver flashes across the darkness — a shooting star, bright and fleeting. My breath catches, and before I can stop myself, the words slip free.

  "I used to believe stars could grant wishes." The words come quietly, barely above the crackle of the fire. "And that they would come true."

  Rael doesn't respond, but I feel his gaze, steady and calculating.

  Above us, another streak of light spears through the sky, quick and fleeting. My heart pinches. Even now, I can't help but follow its path.

  "My brother and I would sneak out during star showers." My voice softens, the memory drawing nearer. "We'd race through the palace gardens, pretending we could outrun them as they fell. We'd run to this fountain at the center--old and cracked with vines curling around the base."

  I can see it even now — the way the stars shimmered across the water's glassy surface, the reflection trembling with every ripple. In those moments, it had seemed alive. Enchanted.

  "We used to say the stars had blessed it. That their magic fell with them, gathering in the water." My fingers curl slightly against the cloak. "We believed that if we made a wish--a real one, whispered into a stone and kissed to seal it--the fountain would carry it to the sky."

  A trace of a smile touches my lips, though it doesn't bloom in my eyes. "My brother always wished for something different. To sail the seas. To duel a demon. To wear a crown of gold. Every time, something grander than the last. But me..."

  I trail off, feeling the embers' growing warmth as my throat tightens.

  "I always wished for the same thing." I don't dare look at Rael, though I can sense his gaze. I just can't bring myself to meet it. "Freedom. To see what waited beyond the palace walls. To know what it felt like to live without anyone deciding for me."

  The words linger like the shadows that had once danced along the hedge maze as we ran. I remember the cool grass beneath my feet, the sharp scent of lilac, the laughter that rang through the night. And I remember the way I'd lean over that fountain, my fingers grazing the water, certain that the stars above were listening.

  But wishes are for children.

  And the stars have long since stopped answering.

  I curl in on myself, watching the popping fire send a shower of sparks into the night as it burns away the memory.

  For a moment, it's as though the crackling flames and the endless woods around us fade away too, leaving only the weight of what I've lost. And what I'm still afraid to lose.

  "The cost of your wish," his voice is edged, hollow, "is a cage."

  Of course he'd say that, coming from a kingdom where wishes aren't casted into fountains but bartered for in blood.

  'The greater the desire, the greater the cost.'

  I peer at him through my lashes, watching shadows flit across the hard lines of his jaw, his eyes glowing like stars. "Perhaps," I admit defiantly, "but at least I'll know what's beyond the walls before I step back inside."

  Rael scoffs, shaking his head. "Right, because this is some grand adventure."

  I shrug, a sheepish smile tugging at my lips. "It is for me."

  He studies me for a moment, eyes narrowing. "And now that you've seen it--the cruelty and calm--what do you think?"

  My gaze drifts to him, the firelight casting golden shadows across his face.

  "The world is beautiful," I murmur softly. "Claws and all."

  Silence is his only reply.

  I clear my throat. "What about you?"

  "What about me?"

  "What would you wish for... if it were free?" I challenge, knowing I'm balancing on the edge of a blade.

  "Wishes are for fools with something left to hope for." He sneers.

  "What was your childhood like?" I blurt out, if only to limit the quietness threatening to surround us once more.

  His jaw works, though I spot the confusion contorting his features before it quickly dissipates. "I survived it."

  I wait, hoping for more. But he offers nothing else. No stories of running through gardens. No memories of laughter or mischief. Just that single, bitter truth.

  "That's all?" I ask softly.

  He finally looks at me, annoyance filling his stare. "That's enough."

  The air between us thickens, and I wonder if I've pushed too far. Yet something lingers beneath his words--a hint of reluctance, as though there's more he could say. But he won't. Not now.

  And perhaps not ever.

  I sigh, changing the subject again. "Back at the inn," I start, watching him carefully, "I asked you what you would do if the king ordered you to harm me."

  Rael stops prodding the flames.

  I keep going. "It was wrong of me to ask. I know you have your role, that you're bound to duty, just as I am. I know you're not my friend, nor my ally, no matter how much I want you to be." I sigh. "I shouldn't have put you in that position. I know your words that night were only meant to comfort me."

  'I am not going to hurt you, Selene.'

  The truth tastes bitter on my tongue. "I know they held no real weight."

  Rael smiles bitterly. "Of course you would think that."

  I blink at him. "You've barely spoken to me since, so yes, I--"

  "I meant every word," he interrupts. "You think I only said it to soothe you? No. I have teased you and toyed with you because watching you fluster makes this trip slightly more bearable--but I have never lied to you, Princess. Not once."

  My brows knit together, "yet, you've grown distant once again--as you were the first day of travel."

  "Yes, to protect you." His voice is low, strained by something that sounds far too close to regret. His hands curl at his sides, the tension radiating from him like a storm barely held at bay. "If I'm to keep you safe—to ensure you remain out of harm's way—then I can't..."

  He trails off, his gaze flickering away as though afraid to meet mine. His jaw tightens, the muscles feathering beneath his skin. Whatever he's trying to say, it's costing him.

  Tell me.

  "I can't be distracted." His voice is pained, like the words hurt to say.

  He sucks in a breath, his teeth grinding together to strangle his words. But I can see it in the tension of his shoulders, the way his chest rises and falls too quickly. Whatever is warring inside him is winning.

  "Your question..."

  I want to speak, to break through the wall he's so desperately trying to build. But I'm terrified that one wrong word will send it all crashing down—and this sliver of honesty will splinter and fall away.

  "If my King commands me to hurt you," He shakes his head sharply, as if physically rejecting the thought. "I don't kn—"

  A sharp hiss--swift, slicing.

  Rael jerks back.

  Confusion twists through me as my eyes follow the direction of his widening ones. The firelight reveals the source of his shock, the reason his face is etched with disbelief.

  An arrow, buried deep in his shoulder.

  "Rael—"

  Another whistle.

  His eyes snap to mine—afraid.

  A blur of shadow. A rush of heat.

  The world tilts as he crashing into me, sending us to the ground just as another arrow strikes the stump I had been sitting on.

  For a moment, all I can hear is the crackle of flames. All I can feel is the weight of him, the pounding of my own pulse.

  Then—

  Footsteps.

  Slow. Steady. Growing closer.

  And accompanying them...

  Laughter.