I kick the flank of the horse, ordering her faster along the dirt trail twisting through the thick forest. She stops once more, picking at a bush on the side of the trail, and I nudge her further with the heel of my boot.

We've been going like this for days now, stopping and going, as this horse is not a pristine version of the one I rode on this entire journey. This is a Lona horse—not trained, unfocused, and determined to piss me off. I can say the same for Renit's horse, who has faced cuss words more than once over the span of the last few hours.

In a forest like this, a forest I've recognized since I was a child, there aren't any dangers to worry about. This place has been untouched for years but for the business of the trail, my father never ventured out this far. But Arego is gone now and hardly anyone passes through to find us or receive the gossip on what is happening to the people brave enough to escape.

Nothing. Nothing had been happening, but Arego is a ghost-land now. What's left of the village is merely a few miles north, past the river and through a cluster of forest that my father was cutting down to build more houses. He traveled out here once to discover how far this forest extended and now that I've seen it for myself, Arego would have been sustainable for years beyond this. If the king never ended the beautiful village, my father would cut down those trees for many years down the road—by Bren and any witches of lumber in the kingdom.

The uncooperative horse keeps me from worrying about how close we are to the village. Smoke doesn't plume from the sky any longer, all witches have fled, and the ocean will forever spray against the side of the cliff and kiss mist against what is left of the stone buildings.

I wonder what is left of our home; if the drawings I spent so long crafting were completely burnt or somehow spared by a witch of water. Celestine's journals stacked in the corner, ruined and left to hope for discovery by a witch brave enough to uncover the remnants of second chances. They'll find my father's coats, my mother's jewelry, my charcoal pens, and Celestine's paper. Then again, all of that could be ash.

The horse stops again and I tug on the reins to get her moving. With a huff of disappointment, she slides in next to Renit's horse and decides to give up trying to eat as much food as it would take for her to collapse. Until a bushier and brighter plant comes along, she'll cooperate. It won't be long, I have a feeling.

I feel Renit's eyes on the side of my face but avoid looking at him. We've known each other for months now and along with coming to understand each other, we're aware of what makes each other tick and what bothers us. He knows we're close to Arego—it would be mere minutes on horseback for us to make it there. Memories of a long-forgotten past. A past I've learned to forget.

"Since you haven't said a word in hours, I'm guessing you don't want to go through what's left," Renit speculates. He tugs on the reins of his own horse, stopping him from biting at a low branch before he can reach it. Renit's reflexes are much quicker than mine, he grew up around these beasts.

I shake my head. "After all this, I want a break. We've been going since the start, neither of us has slowed down, and I think it's time we do something other than focus on the past or the king's duties," I respond evenly. My spine aches with how straight I'm forcing myself to keep it.

Don't appear weak.

"My father might have another mission for us when we get back. We have to prepare ourselves."

Those words alone cause my shoulders to slouch with exhaustion. I want to see Celestine; I want to help Silas improve on his condition; I want to cook in the kitchens with Dalis and listen to Mills' stories about his time cooking meals for soldiers in the war. I've enjoyed these weeks with Renit, scouring the entire kingdom for these boxes, but there are other parts of life I want to explore. With him still at my side but with everyone else, too.

I blow a scarlet strand of hair out of my face. "Don't remind me," I grumble. Overhead, a bird chirps high in the thick trees.

The lush greenery of this forest is so thick that there's hardly any room along the trail for a wagon to fit through—or two distracted horses with a need to eat everything in sight. Including me, as mine tried to nip at me when we first met.

"We'll finish, eventually. My father will run out of things to order or...Silas will be on the throne," Renit offers. A bold statement from a prince.

I raise my eyebrows at him and he rolls his eyes in annoyance. That will never get old, how quick I can piss him off. He knows he's not supposed to say those things about his father, his king, the man he's bowed down to for years upon years. "I believe that's best for the kingdom. That's if Silas gets back to his old self, of course," I offer.

"He'll be fine. If I know anything about Silas, I know he's as resilient as ever. He'll find himself in there, eventually." Renit picks at a piece of lint on his tunic before turning back to face my stare. Those calming silver eyes send a wave of fondness through me and I wonder if he is feeling the same level of admiration.

The level I've soared in such a short amount of time might be a difficult level to reach.

When silence settles between the two of us, my mind drifts back to Arego and what might be left. A small part of me wants to see it again for that closure but the other part wants to get back to the castle as quick as I possibly can. Arego will hold nothing, but the castle cradles what family I have left. Protected by Hallie and Dalis, Celestine is more important than the remnants of a destroyed village.

Someone will create another village, somewhere. Hopefully farther away from the capital—so far a prince will not want to travel those lengths. Everyone deserves to have a second chance somewhere—a beacon that others might not recognize.

"Do you think there's anything left?" I ask quietly. My gaze remains on the twisting of the trail moving through the thick trunks of trees.

Renit's eyes bore into the side of my head. "For the sake of anyone looking for freedom...I hope so," he confesses.

I allow myself to meet his gaze and find an apology in the prince's eyes. And yet, those words still haven't expressed themselves. I should stop expecting them, especially after we've moved on from the past—believing we have to. Renit was in a different place that night he stormed Arego and for that, I cannot blame him for faults. He tried to kill me and I tried to do the same once we were back at the castle. Neither of us is perfect.

"I don't blame you," I find myself saying. "I don't blame you for what happened that night. Your father made you do those things and—"

"Roux, I know." He reaches over the empty space between us and places his gloved hand on my knee. The only piece of the armor he kept. "I don't want to go over this again. If we're to be happy, we need to forget the past and remind ourselves of the great things the future has in store. When we get back and my father doesn't have a mission for us, I'll take you into the capital and we'll explore all the wonders it holds."

The corners of my mouth twitch up in a loving smile, one that Renit mimics, and his hand slides away from where it had gripped so tightly. If the king doesn't have a mission for us, I have to remind myself. Renit's way of speaking is so convincing, I forgot the truth laced underneath his words.

I jerk my chin towards the satchel strapped around his shoulders. "Let me see those boxes. We never discussed the last two," I say.

Renit obliges, handing the heavy weight over the bare space between our two horses. The two boxes, the one from Ducoria and the other from Lona, sit on top. Their gold trim glistens when I open the satchel to shed strips of sunlight breaking through the trees.

Same as the other two, the wood is worn and chipped in more places than one. The gold trim is bent and slightly rusted but still intact. A woodsman probably crafted these boxes for the original witches, nearly drooling over the strips of gold handed over for special accents.

"The crystal from Ducoria?" I ask.

Renit considers, filing through the information in his mind. "Black Tourmaline," he confirms. "If a witch uses this to complete an evil form of magic, ancient witches can't stop them. Black Tourmaline is a defense for spells and it repels negative entities."

I furrow my brows, turning the box back and forth in my hands. "Why would your father need something like that?"

He shrugs. "It could be for any number of things, for any spell."

That doesn't lighten my suspicions. Could the king be planning something terrible against the rebellion and the war? He knows there are others out there, the rebels he encountered are not their entire forces—meaning there are others out there. The king wants to stop them, once and for all. A crystal like this will do it.

Renit doesn't appear to seem worried about it, a common witch using spells that the ancients once divulged in. Instead of searching through the possibilities of the crystals we've gathered, I pull out the last box and gesture towards him. "What about this one?"

He squints at the chipped wood as if that holds all the answers. Really, all the information we have is held within the ancient books detailing the locations and uses. "Obsidian," he concludes. "It's very strong, this stone can help alter the spirit and the body into whatever form the witch is trying to accomplish. Obsidian can clarify the mind of someone that is trying to fight the power, it encourages embracing the truth."

That doesn't make me feel any better. With the combination of all the crystals, it seems like the king is trying to...control something. A living thing. He might try to create an army of his own that will bow down to his every need. I glance over at Renit as the answer becomes clear. The king will use this on his sons, specifically Renit.

"We can't take these to him," I say quietly.

Renit whips his stare over to me, faster than his lightning. "What?" He demands.

"He will use these on you—he's going toturn you into a controlled soldier." I tug on the reins, forcing my horse to stop, and slide out of the saddle. Before Renit can stop me, I'm stomping through the woods with the strap of the satchel gripped tight in my hand. I can't let anyone have these, I must destroy these boxes.

Twigs break and leaves crunch behind me, the only evidence Renit is following closely behind. He doesn't try to stop me until I find that clearing and toss the satchel in the middle. One box rolls out from where it was tucked deep, hidden in the leather, and wobbles until settling against the dirt.

"Roux, you can't do this," Renit demands. He stands in front of me, bracing both hands against my shoulders.

Tears are already forming in my eyes—from what, I don't know. From the fear of losing Renit right after I've found him. The real prince. "I have to do this so he doesn't do that to you," I snap.

Even if I can't see what I'm doing, I pull up a large chunk of the ground and shape it into a spiral. It twists back and forth in the air, hovering over the boxes. I don't want to do this but if I don't; we take that risk. And the king will not hurt Renit, I won't allow it. I won't allow him to lose himself to me again. He'll be as much of a ghost as he was after he lost Darlene and Oisin, the light of his life. Except this time, the king won't take loved ones—he'll be taking Renit's soul.

"If you destroy those boxes and the king discovers that you did this, you'll lose your head. He'll punish both of us and there's nothing I can do to stop him from hurting you," Renit pleads. I think of the split skin on his back after they whipped him, the tattered flesh, and the dried blood. He shakes my shoulders, bringing me back to reality.

I shake my head, bracing both of my hands against the sides of his face. The levitating ground drops back down in loose clumps and dried dirt. "I can't let him take you away from me, I can't."

Renit's already shaking his head before I've finished. "Nothing will happen. I won't let him do anything. If we discover he has a plan to use these crystals against me, then we'll flee. We'll leave this kingdom and find another. But we have to take those boxes because nothing good will come from his outrage if we don't. We'll be doing more harm than good." My hands slide away from his face, drooping at my sides in disappointment. "I know you can't see it now these boxes are our life source."

Renit takes that as his chance to gather the boxes. The way he holds them with such care...I can't destroy them. He's right, the punishment will come to him especially for not keeping me in line. And I can't allow Renit to face pain again.

He stops in front of me once more, gripping my chin in his hand. But it's not a tight grip, only one that tilts up my eyes to his. "I won't let him do anything, I promise. He won't touch either of us. I'll make sure of it." He searches my eyes and avoids the urge to lean in and kiss me. "Do you believe me?"

I might agree on the outside but I cannot say the same for the inside. But Renit only has to know what I show on the outside. I do believe him; I trust he won't let anything happen to us, the same I won't let anything happen to him.

This heart needs you. I need you.

"I believe you," I say quietly.

"Good," Renit sighs. "You are aware of how I feel about my father. If he has a drastic plan to ruin this kingdom, then I'll ensure he doesn't see the light of day. For this kingdom, for the safety of the people and you, I'll find a way."

He waits for my answer with bated breath. Silver eyes swim in the amber of my stare and I blink myself back to reality, nodding in silent agreement to his statement. 

When we arrive back to the horses, they're indeed gorging themselves on fallen leaves and patches of grass taller than myself. Renit frowns, shaking his head at the useless beasts, but smiles when we're both in the saddle and moving down the trail once more.

I don't mention that my stomach is sinking, all hope fading, as I begin to devise a plan meant to keep him safe, even if that means I don't make it out.