The World Cannot Know

Chapter 56

Matthew Wild

The morning air was thick—too still, too heavy. The kind of stillness that always comes just before something important gives way. Fog clung low across the clearing, curling like smoke at my feet. The sun hadn't fully committed to the day yet, just a dim glow pressing through the clouds like it was unsure of its place.

I stood near the doorway, arms folded across my chest, watching Sebastian prepare to leave.

There was something painfully precise about the way he moved—tightening the strap on his cloak, adjusting the collar, checking the saddle bags again even though I'd watched him check them twice already. Small, measured movements. Like every one of them was holding him together piece by piece.

General Hector paced nearby, sharp-eyed and rigid, barking clipped instructions to the soldiers. Clive and his crew were clustered around the horses, tossing out jokes too loud, too forced. None of them were really laughing.

Alice leaned against a fence post, arms crossed, her usual grin nowhere in sight. No smart remarks. Just silence. Elizabeth was deep in conversation with Hector, all business and strategy, already ten steps ahead. As always.

Arney looked like he hadn't slept, rubbing one eye with a crumb-covered hand while holding what was left of a breakfast roll. His mother stood behind him, wrapped in her shawl, eyes tight with worry.

The whole thing felt too quiet. Too final.

My eyes went back to Sebastian. He looked every inch the prince now—strong, composed. Ready. But I could see through it. I saw the tension in his jaw, the slight hesitation in his hands before tightening the saddle strap again.

Then he turned. His cloak caught in the wind as he stepped toward me, and for one moment—just a heartbeat—our eyes locked, and everything else dropped away.

"I thought you might've stayed inside," he said, voice low but steady.

I shrugged, trying to play it easy even as my chest ached. "And miss the royal farewell? Not a chance."

He gave me that small, tired smile that always hit harder than it should. "Didn't think you liked goodbyes."

"I don't," I said, holding his gaze. "But I'd hate myself if I didn't see you off."

There was a pause—barely a second, but it stretched between us like something larger.

"I'll send word as soon as we make it past the border. Once it's safe."

"You better," I told him, trying to smirk. "Because if I hear you've gotten yourself thrown in a dungeon, I'm not coming to rescue you. Not this time."

He let out a soft breath of laughter. "Noted."

Behind us, Marcus clapped his hands like he was trying to break the moment in half. "Alright, Your Highness, if you're done staring lovingly at your boy, we've got roads to ride and power to steal back."

Arney groaned. "Marcus, I swear to the gods—"

Sebastian threw Marcus a look that shut him up quick. Then he turned back to me.

"I meant what I said," he said, quieter now. "When it's safe. You'll come with me. We won't hide."

My throat tightened, but I nodded. "I'll hold you to it."

He hesitated. And I couldn't stand it anymore—couldn't keep my hands in check. I reached out, grabbed his forearm. A firm hold. Not a hug. Not a kiss. But something solid. Something that said everything we couldn't voice in front of the others.