The World Cannot Know

Chapter 44

Prince Sebastian 

As we made our way back through the forest, the fading light casting long shadows across the ground, I couldn't shake the gnawing sense of despair that clung to me. Every step felt heavy, as if the weight of the world was pressing down on my shoulders. My mind raced, replaying the scene over and over—the moment when Clive had recognized me, the anger in his eyes, the fleeting hope that had been ripped away when he and his men disappeared into the trees.

I was so close, closer than I had been in years. And yet, I felt farther from Matthew than ever before.

The trees around us blurred as my thoughts spiraled, consumed by the urgency to find him. The desperation clawed at my chest, making it hard to breathe. After five years of searching, of holding onto the thin thread of hope that he was still out there, the realization that he could be just out of reach was unbearable.

"We were right there, Marcus," I muttered, more to myself than to him. "He's out there, and we were right there."

Marcus glanced at me, his expression concerned. "I know," he said quietly. "But we can't lose focus now. We need to stay sharp, plan our next move."

His words made sense, but they did little to calm the storm inside me. Every moment we spent regrouping felt like another moment slipping through my fingers—another moment Matthew could be slipping farther away.

I could still feel the sting where Clive had struck me, a dull ache that seemed to echo the hollow emptiness inside. The thought that Matthew had been so close, that he might be in danger, gnawed at me with relentless persistence. I clenched my fists, the frustration and helplessness building to a fever pitch.

"I should've pressed harder," I said, my voice thick with self-reproach. "I should've—"

"You did everything you could," Marcus interrupted, his tone firm. "We're not done yet. We'll find another way."

But it didn't feel like enough. I wanted to shout, to scream, to demand that the universe give me a break for once. How many more dead ends would I have to face before I found him? How many more times would hope be dangled in front of me, only to be yanked away at the last moment?

"I can't keep doing this, Marcus," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "I can't keep coming so close, just to have it ripped away."

He stopped walking, turning to face me with a steady gaze. "Sebastian, I know this is hard. But you've got to hold on. We're not giving up, not now, not ever."

"I'm trying," I said, my voice cracking. "But what if we're too late? What if—"

"We're not too late," Marcus cut in, his voice leaving no room for doubt. "You have to believe that. Matthew's out there, and we're going to find him."

I nodded, though the knot in my chest tightened. The truth was, I was terrified. Terrified that every day that passed was another day he might be suffering. Terrified that after all these years, I might be too late to save him.

As we continued walking, the forest growing darker around us, I couldn't shake the fear that had taken root inside me. I was so close to finding Matthew, and yet, I felt like I was losing him all over again. The desperation clawed at me, threatening to pull me under, but I forced myself to keep moving forward.

Because as long as there was even the slightest chance of finding him, I couldn't afford to stop. Not now. Not ever.

"If you don't head back to the castle the King will know you're not at the front lines" Marcus said

I clenched my fists, the tension winding tighter in my chest. The thought of returning to the castle, to the stifling corridors and the endless demands of court life, made my stomach churn. I had been so close—so painfully close to finding Matthew. How could I just turn my back on that and walk away?