The World Cannot Know

Chapter 42

Prince Sebastian

I stood on the rocky outcrop, my heart pounding as I scanned the horizon for any sign of the man who was supposed to help us. Next to me, Marcus was just as tense, his eyes darting between the distant line of trees and the approaching Valorian soldiers. They were getting closer, their armor clinking with each step, the sound growing louder in the stillness.

I could feel the pressure building, a gnawing worry that our contact wasn't going to show up. We were running out of time, and I exchanged a glance with Marcus, his expression mirroring the anxiety I felt. What if he didn't come?

The thought gnawed at me as I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, trying to keep calm. The Valorian soldiers were closer now, their dark figures distinct against the dusky sky. There were more of them than we'd anticipated, at least a dozen, maybe more, and they moved with the kind of precision that only seasoned fighters had. My heart raced, each beat a painful reminder of how little time we had left.

"He should have been here by now," Marcus muttered under his breath, his voice tight with tension. He gripped the hilt of his sword, knuckles white.

"I know," I replied, my own hand resting on the pommel of my blade. The cold metal was a small comfort, a reminder that we weren't completely helpless. But I couldn't shake the feeling of dread curling in my stomach. We were supposed to meet the man an hour ago, and now, with the Valorians closing in, it felt like we were trapped between a rock and a hard place.

Every sound seemed amplified—the crunch of the soldiers' boots on the gravel, the rustle of leaves in the wind, even the distant cawing of a crow. I kept scanning the edge of the forest, hoping, praying that I'd see a figure emerge from the shadows. But the path remained empty.

"What if he's not coming?" Marcus's voice was barely above a whisper, as if speaking it aloud would make it true. I didn't want to acknowledge the possibility, but it was getting harder to ignore.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to think. "We can't wait much longer. If he doesn't show, we'll have to fight the general and every soldiers ourselves."

Marcus looked at me, his eyes filled with a mix of determination and fear. "And if we can't?"

I didn't have an answer for that. I tightened my grip on my sword, the rough leather of the hilt biting into my palm. The Valorian soldiers were almost within shouting distance now. I could see their faces, stern and unforgiving, their armor glinting in the fading light. There was no more time for doubt or hesitation. We needed to make a decision, and fast.

Just as I was about to tell Marcus to prepare for a fight, a rustling sound came from the trees behind us. I whipped around, hope flaring in my chest. A figure stepped out from the shadows, moving quickly towards us. For a split second, I couldn't tell if it was friend or foe, but then I saw the familiar cloak, the way he moved with practiced ease through the underbrush. It was him.

Relief washed over me, so intense it almost made my knees buckle. "He's here," I breathed, nudging Marcus.

The man, the stranger reached us in a few long strides, his face partially obscured by the hood of his cloak. "You're late," I said, the edge in my voice sharper than I intended.

He didn't flinch at my tone. Instead, he glanced at the approaching soldiers, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Had something I needed to take care of," he replied, his voice calm, almost indifferent.

Marcus, still tense and ready for a fight, spoke up, "Where's your man? An extra body would be helpful against all these soldiers."

The stranger's lips curved into a brief, humorless smile. "Busy," was all he said, offering no further explanation.