The hooves of the horses pounded heavily on the forest path like war drums against the earth. Ronan gripped the reins tightly with one hand while the other was wrapped firmly around Yuto's limp body.
The wind tore at them as they rushed out of the forest toward the nearest village. Every movement of the horse made Yuto's body shift, and instinctively Ronan further tightened his hold to shield her from the worst that could possibly happen.
Yuto's breath was very shallow.
As she was snuggled against Ronan's chest, he felt her heartbeat slow. A cold dread crawled up his spine. He looked down and noticed her skin had become paler.
"We won't make it!" he shouted, panic clawing at his voice. "He lost too much blood. He... he's dying!"
Smoke curled upward just a few miles ahead of them. A house hidden in the wilderness.
"Then that's our only chance!" the commander responded.
The horses increased their speed, as if they could sense the urgency of the matter. The small cottage looked lonely and bizarre, its walls built with uneven stones probably picked along the riverbank. Wild vines clung to the house like nature's quiet embrace. A single lantern hung beside the wooden door, casting a warm but flickering glow over the entrance.
Ronan slid down from the horse, holding Yuto tightly in his arms, while Rhett proceeded to knock on the old weary door.
"Anyone home? Please, we need help!" he shouted as he pounded on the door.
The door opened, revealing a tired old woman clutching a lantern.
"Oh, Lord..." she spoke softly as she looked at Ronan holding Yuto.
"Please let us in. He won't last long," Marcus pleaded pitifully.
The old woman nodded and stepped aside. Ronan entered, but when the other soldiers tried to follow, the old lady blocked the path.
"You stay here," the lady said calmly.
"But..." Marcus tried to reason, only to be cut off.
"I am a witch doctor. If you want your friend alive, then better stay here. My healing techniques require no disturbance whatsoever."
The old lady did not wait for their response. She slammed the door in their faces. She quickly went to where Yuto lay and gestured for Ronan to leave as well. He hesitated, and then the old lady's face turned stern.
"The child is near death's door. Make haste," she said, as calm as ever.
"If he dies..." Ronan said, his voice trembling slightly.
The old lady shot him a *don't you dare* gaze. He quietly turned and went outside. The door automatically locked after him. For a moment he was puzzled until he met his comrades' gazes.
"Commander, the woman cannot be trusted," Rhett began. "I mean, she is a total stranger, and that is the prince."
"Half a loaf is better than none. None of us here could have done anything significant to save the prince's life. All we can do is pray that she heals him," the commander responded.
"Plus, I think that she truly is a witch doctor. She has a ton of herbs in there," Ronan said as he sat down on the ground.
Marcus sat right next to Ronan and whispered, "No one doubted that, brother. I mean, who in their right mind lives in the middle of nowhere nearest to Grimvale?" He paused. "I fucked a witch once."
Ronan gave a side eye warning Marcus to be quiet, but Marcus did not take the hint.
"And funny enough, they all smell the same," Marcus continued and laughed hysterically.
"Are you serious right now?" Ronan growled, eyes blazing with fury. "We are all worried sick here, and you are cracking jokes?"
Marcus froze. His smile vanished instantly.
"Well, I was just trying to lighten the atmosphere."
"Well, jokes aside. We should be planning a way forward. With the prince wounded, we cannot travel fast enough. Our route has changed its course. The northerners are probably going to attack before we form an alliance with King Kaelith." Ronan spoke with calm authority. "The worst part is that we might actually miss the boat sailing to Valdoria."
A dead silence descended upon every soldier.
Yuto's eyes fluttered open.
The world spun around her. Her head throbbed. Her body was a haze of pain. The scent of herbs, strong, sharp, almost bitter, filled her nostrils. For a heartbeat, she could not move, could not speak, as though the darkness she had been trapped in was still clinging to her.
Then she saw her.
The witch doctor.
She stood at the edge of the dimly lit cottage, her cloak of dark feathers brushing the earthen floor. Her eyes gleamed under the flickering lantern light, sharp and unblinking, like a predator assessing its prey. Strange talismans clinked and swayed from her belt, and the faint scent of incense trailed around her like a warning.
"Welcome back. I thought you had crossed to the underworld," the old woman said as she rinsed a towel in water.
Yuto tried to speak, but her throat felt raw, her words caught between fear and disbelief. Her hands fisted weakly against the straw mattress beneath her. The old woman stepped closer, her movements graceful and deliberate. Each step was a silent declaration of power. The shadows of her talismans danced across the walls, echoing her eerie presence.
"I need to leave," Yuto whispered, her throat dry and tight.
The old woman slowly widened her smile.
"You cannot travel on horse. The wounds are too severe."
She leaned casually against a wooden post, her dark eyes glinting in the lantern light.
"There is a faster way to reach your destination," she said, her voice smooth, almost teasing. "But you will not be able to take your soldiers with you."
Yuto's heart lurched. "But I cannot leave them behind..."
The old woman tilted her head, letting a strand of her dark hair fall across her face.
"Oh, you can. And you will, if you want to get there alive." She paused, her eyes boring into Yuto's. "There is a path… dangerous, yes, but swift. Are you willing to take that risk, Princess?"
The word hung in the air like a blade.
Princess.
Not prince.
Princess.
Yuto's blood turned to ice. Her hand shot to her chest, to the bindings beneath her tunic. They were still there. Still tight. Still hiding the truth.
Or so she thought.
"How did you—" she started.
The old woman's smile widened. Her teeth were yellowed but sharp.
"I am a witch doctor, little one. I see what others cannot. Your body. Your blood. Your secrets." She stepped closer, her talismans clinking with each step. "The bindings on your chest. The fear in your eyes. The way you hold yourself like a soldier but bleed like a woman."
Yuto's hands trembled.
"Do not worry." The old woman's voice softened, almost gentle. "Your secret is safe with me. I have kept worse secrets than yours."
She sat on the edge of the straw mattress, close enough that Yuto could smell the herbs on her skin.
"But you cannot keep hiding forever. The king you are going to meet..." She shook her head slowly. "He will see through you the moment you step into his throne room. Men like him always do."
Yuto's throat tightened.
"Then what do I do?"
The old woman was silent for a long moment. She reached out and touched Yuto's forehead, her fingers cool against the fevered skin.
"Survive," she said simply. "One day at a time. One breath at a time. And when the moment comes, do not lie to him."
"Lie to the king?"
"No." The old woman's eyes glinted. "Lie to yourself. He will forgive a lie told to him. He will not forgive a lie told to your own heart."
She stood and walked toward a shelf filled with jars and dried herbs.
"Rest now. Tomorrow, we talk about the path."
Yuto wanted to argue. She wanted to leave. She wanted to run back to her soldiers and pretend this conversation never happened.
But her body would not obey.
The herbs in the air grew stronger. Her eyelids grew heavier.
The old woman's voice came from far away.
"Sleep, princess. Death did not want you tonight. But he is patient. He will wait."