Two morrows later, I helped Eina and the others gather the scarce harvest of winter squash in the field outside of Arst. The dawn had just broken through, painting the clouds in deep purple and silken mauve, and the pink light across the distant horizon vanished in the haze of the field’s heavy mist. The women’s gentle song flowed over the sleeping earth, twined with the rustle of the crops. It was briefly peaceful, before I felt an unnatural stillness in the air. Like everything had quietened down in anticipation.

  The ground rumbled with the approach of riders, and the harvesters straightened up one by one. Their song ceased and their faces fell, wan with faded emotion. As much as my shortsightedness could allow me, I discerned five riders: five shadows moving closer and closer in perfect formation. I was not acquainted with the customs here when it came to obedience to the Prince, and I was certainly not inclined to participate in them. Bowing to tyranny was not in my repertoire. Around me, the men and women bent their knees and lowered on the ground, gazes down.

  All five knights were clad in black, and their steeds had the same midnight lustre on their sheens. The formation halted not too far from me (I suppose I made a striking impression by being the only one standing), and one of them marched forward. His taut, dark-tinted skin and sharp features held a stunning vernal beauty in the faint spectral light. It was safe to assume he was the leader of them.

  “Who among you disturbed the silence of these lands?”

  “Who do you think, handsome?” I immediately parried the foolish question to fix his attention on me. Oh, well. Handsome usually went together with stupid, so perhaps I shouldn’t have raised my hopes that much. I was the only one standing and talking, hair loose in the wind. Surely, it wasn’t so hard to divine who was at fault for breaking the foul mood in this foul kingdom.

  After the pause, I moved forward to his strong mount, and spoke again, in lower tones, “Please, get me out of here.”

  He gave me a pointed, concerned look and then shared a glance with the others over his shoulder. None of them seemed even remotely amused, all stormy brows and louring disposition. Oddly enough, he didn’t scold me for the compliment on his looks a moment earlier. Instead, he blinked at me with confusion.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Get me,” I repeated, “out of here, please. Away from this wretched village. I would like to be your sacrifice this year. Sounds like an efficient way to avoid taxes.”

  The knight yanked the reins as the stud snorted and shifted impatiently. “We aim to discover what’s amiss in Arst, find the responsible culprit, and punish them.”

  I flung my hands in the air, rejoicing. “If you mean the peals of laughter that shook the tavern two nights ago, search no more. I am your woman.”

  Surprisingly, he believed me right away. Maybe I saved them a whole lot of tedious work by giving myself in so heartily. Both sides were happy, then. Even the villagers would be relieved once they realized they didn’t have to sacrifice one of their own this year. Everyone won.

  “The Dark Prince favors the young and beautiful,” the rider told me with the bored tone of routine, measuring me from head to toe.

  “I am young,” I insisted, putting hands on my hips as I smiled tightly. “…ish.” I was, in fact, not particularly young. I hadn’t celebrated birthdays in decades, so I wasn’t quite sure. I usually used vague and flattering phrases to describe my age and watched strangers grimace at me with disbelief. Just like this lovely knight was doing right now. God, was he gorgeous. Bet he would be even more gorgeous if he smiled.

  “You don’t look young.”

  I sighed. “Do you want me or not? I volunteer. That has to count for something.”

  “Why do you wish to be the next sacrifice, woman? Do you not value your life?”

  “Not really,” I said, in hopes it’ll convince them more. They eyed the scattered villagers hungrily. Not a single sound had come out of the peasantry, their bodies curled down into rigid stances of fearful submission. This made me cough a little to fix the riders’ attention on me again. Did they suspect I was covering up for someone else? The idea offended me. As if there would be someone funnier or louder than me in this gloom of a kingdom.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  Warily, I stepped closer to the knight, intending to speak to him only. To my further surprise, he let me get near without sending my head flying. “They want to marry me off to a farmer who’s plotting to breed me like he breeds his chickens, and while I am flattered, it is a hard pass for me. You see, at this age, there’s a higher chance I’d die if I endeavor to bear any child. And having to peel potatoes for eternity would turn me even madder than I am now.” I made a pause for dramatic impact, still unsure whether handsome had enough brains to keep up. “But if I sacrifice my life, everyone will live in peace for another year, yes?”

  The knight was quiet, assessing me with narrowed eyes as if estimating if I was indeed mad.

  “Alright,” he said, extending a hand to me. “You’re chosen.” What a dream. Never before had I seen a man of such striking beauty.

  I gave a gracious nod. “Just a moment.” Then I darted back and knelt in front of Eina, finding her wide-eyed with fright. I tilted my head to look into her eyes and smiled. “You deserve the world and more for your kindness and generosity, Eina, but I’m afraid you’ll have to reconcile with receiving the only thing I have: I am leaving Jun to you. He loves apples and will try to bite your ears off. Sometimes he thinks he’s a dog and would bark at unholy hours, don’t mind him.” I counted the things I wanted to say to her on my fingers. “Oh, and that nasty husband of yours… he won’t change.”

  Eina looked like she had a hundred things to say, lips apart, but the knights’ looming presence reminded her to keep her mouth shut and nod at me. She only uttered, “Thank you,” before I squeezed her hand one final time.

  I hurried up to the knight and grabbed his hand.

  With commendable ease, he pulled me on the saddle in front of him and gave the other riders a mute gesture. They gathered in the same formation I saw earlier and bolted off through the mist, so fast that I caught my breath and instinctively held onto the saddle. My companion would hardly let me fall or hurt myself now that I was to be his sacrificial goat, I imagined, so I wasn’t surprised when he stiffly closed in on me from behind.

  The dense mist seeped down in heaps, and visibility decreased every time I blinked. But those knights knew the area blindly. Not long after we set off through the crop fields, we confidently swept down onto a wide, gravelly road. This was a road I hadn’t taken before. It led out of Arst and meandered to the northwest where they had warned me awaited the Prince’s castle. Only those seeking trouble or the ones selected by his knights ventured this path.

  “Tell me, handsome…” I craned my neck to have another look at my rider’s face. His smooth skin was even more majestic from up close.

  “Eyes straight ahead,” he said flatly.

  I obeyed readily, turning my face away once more. “As you wish, my good sir.” A pause, then I took a breath, “Do indulge a curious soul before you sacrifice her body. Are you, perchance, the Dark Prince?” Please, say yes.

  “I am not.”

  I tried my best not to give away my heartbreak. “And whyever not? Your face is princely.”

  The knight was quiet for a moment.

  “Because it is not I who possesses magic, my lady.”

  My brows shot up. Fair enough. At least now I justifiably suspected this scoundrel prince was the reason nobody could leave this kingdom. And the reason for the decay of those lands in the meantime.

  Soon the tender susurration of water reached my ears, and I noticed a river was weaving along the road by our side. It slithered in between the tall silhouettes of golden larches, pines, and oaks whose burnished yellow and orange crowns dulled in the gray fog. The forest was wilting, the crooked branches and trunks swimming in a sea of fallen leaves, while the river was muddy and its brooks soundless and calm. Too calm. It was barely a river, with a stream so weak. No wonder the soil was so dry in the village and the harvest so measly.

  Despite the thickening mist as we continued down the road, I could still make out the black spires of a large fortress in the distance. It was erected at the foot of a hill and surrounded by thickset forest on both sides. If I hadn’t peered intensely at it, I would’ve mistaken it as an abandoned ruin.

  The old walls and towers were overgrown, and the graying green of the ivy which dressed them hung loose and lifeless like a shabby gown. Even the bridge that crossed the river before we entered the castle grounds was decrepit, with rickety, mold-rotten beams. I half-expected we’d collapse down into the cold water with how furiously fast the knights galloped through it, its shape shuddering under the weight of us. To be honest, if I had beheld my knight soaked wet, it would’ve been worth it.

  The mist rippled as if from the aged stone of the very castle, its tall, ghastly towers losing their contours into the creeping vapor: the more I peered into it, the less I could see. It occurred to me that this mist itself was likely the magic guarding the castle and its grounds, as Eina had told me. Sunlight barely permeated through, despite the early morning hour, and I suspected this valley would only get darker as time passed.