I imagined that my father and ancestors had made this same journey many times before me and had seen the manor from this very spot, too, and I felt more connected to them than I ever had.
We still had a way to go, and the path took us deeper into thejungle. My butt ached from the constant bump and bustle of my horse, and I readjusted myself for what felt like the hundredth time. Qian, on the other hand, didn’t look bothered at all, even though we’d been riding for the same amount of time. If he was sore, he didn’t show it, but I doubted he was. He was a royal, born and bred, so he was no doubt used to riding for long hours by now. Being a hunter, he was probably accustomed to long treks into the forest, searching for his monsters.
He must have noticed I was looking at him, because his gaze slid toward me, and I turned away, pretending I hadn’t been. I hadn’t meant to stare, but Jinky was right—he was easy to look at.
“How are you faring, Your Majesty?” he asked.
No way would I tell him that my butt ached so much, I doubted I’d be able to walk straight after this. I lifted my chin and said, “It’s no big deal.”
The corner of Qian’s lip quirked up just before Heng rode to meet us, pulling back slightly on the reins to match our speed.
“No sign of trouble, my liege,” he said.
“Of course not,” Qian said. “I told you there was nothing to worry about.”
“What are you looking for?” I asked.
Heng’s stare was as cold as a blade. “I am always alert.” He didn’t answer my question. To Qian, he said, “I will remain vigilant until we are safely at our destination.”
He left, returning to the rear of the caravan to make his rounds.
“What’s his deal?” I asked Qian.
“Heng is always on the lookout for anything that might want to attack us. You know what they say about these mountains. He’swary of the stories, even if they are commoners’ folktales. Can’t be caught unawares.”
I furrowed my brow. “Folktales?”
“You don’t know?” Qian looked genuinely surprised. “I would have thought that, since this is your land, you’d have heard the stories. They’re so pervasive, they’ve even reached our land.”
A prickle of embarrassment made my nose itch. “Forgive my ignorance.”
Another voice spoke up. It was Lucas. “They say that Mount Makiling is haunted.” Lucas had ridden up behind us, casually swaying with the stride of his horse, and he glanced at the abundant green all around us.
I almost forgot my rancor, my curiosity winning over. “How can a mountain be haunted?”
“They say a spirit named Maria Makiling, the lady of the mountain, lives in the jungle. She protects the land, imbues it with abundance, and makes unlucky men disappear.”
Qian smiled at him. “Exactly right! I didn’t think you were one for superstitions, Sir Lucas.”
“I grew up in these mountains, heard the legends, too. People in nearby villages claim to see the lady wandering the forests, dressed all in white, gathering fruits to bring back to her hidden cave. They say she’s beautiful, with flowing dark hair and skin like golden honey. Though any man who tries to approach her is never seen again. Perhaps it’s a story to keep people away from the royal house, but I’m not sure. If it’s not a ghost, then history haunts this land.”
“That’s poetry,” Qian said, a layer of teasing in his tone.
“How come no one told me about this?” I asked Lucas.
Qian answered, his tone bordering on condescending. “Perhaps because it’s not true.”
“You believe in mythical monsters,” I said. “You hunt them, don’t you? What’s the difference?”
“Monsters are real. Ghosts are not.”
“I wouldn’t be so certain, Prince Qian,” Lucas said. “History and legend are connected in ways even encantos don’t understand. Anything can live up in these mountains. Especially beings that don’t want to be found.”
“I never took you for one to believe in ghosts,” I said.
Lucas shrugged. “I like to keep an open mind about the unknown.”
Qian huffed a laugh, doubtful. “I’m more worried about the creatures of the material plane.”
