Faustina used to get angry every time an angry villager would ask Eula if she did the right thing, or even threatening her if she doesn't cure or only worsen the disease a patient has. Faustina wanted to argue and tell them off; however, as years grew by, complaints became a part of their life. Being an apprentice of a witch has taught her so many things.

Like adapting to a situation because nothing can be done to change it.

Or so she thought.

Faustina slowly opened her eyes, only to meet yet another gloomy black night. The sound of horses galloping and the sound of the wheels of the carriage stumbling upon rocks on the ground as b.u.mps and a slight shake woke Faustina up.

"Awake so soon?"

She immediately sat and remained vigilant, as she realized she was not alone. There was the knight with the rust-colored hair sitting just in front of her, wounded. She thinned her lips and stared at the window of the carriage—they were already beyond the forest, on the way to the castle.

Faustina gaped in surprise. How much time did it take to actually go beyond the forest? The skies were not giving any hint of dawn, and yet they traveled as if it was just a blink of the eye. Faustina suspected sorcery.

And sorcery—what was that dream all about?

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"Where are you taking me?" She finally asks.

The knight raised his brow, as if he did not understand her question. Silence followed through as a pa.s.sing ghost.

"I-I'm not like what the people's rumor. I can't do anything special. I'm just... I don't think I'm cut out to do such an honorable thing. I can't sustain the king's life. I'm not a doctor. I can't even cast a spell or do something remarkable, Sir Knight."

The knight remained unresponsive with his expression, but he spoke.

"We do not really see any potential in you." He says nonchalantly. "My brother and I only obey the king. He summons you to the royal palace and we shall do what he wants without question."

Faustina gritted her teeth. She clutched her torn-up blue dress, which was brown with dried mud. Soot was evident to her arms and her face; her hair was loose with twigs and leaves. She was a mess. There was no way such a man—the king—would choose her as someone to sustain his life.

Everything confused her.

Eula. She wanted to curse herself for being powerless. She wanted to cry.

Faustina really wanted to storm out of the carriage right now.

But knowing there was nothing waiting for her back to the cabin made her discern that the only way to move forward is to adapt. Like what she learned from Eula; but not entirely so. She needed to search for answers. She needed that more than anything else.

Eula's death sparked too many questions. Questions that needed so much more than simple answers. Faustina stared at her own hands. Bloodied from the shard she picked up in attempt to retrieve Eula. Her heart hurt so much, and so did her body. It was hard for Faustina to hold her sorrow for such a long time, and as a result she started to cry once more.

Eula did so much to soften her up. She covered her face with her hands as she wept and sobbed like a child. Silently mourning for her master. She was so powerless. She lied down as she curled to a ball, letting the tears flow as she closed her eyes.

She will be stronger.

And the second time she meets Jonathan,

She will definitely bring Eula back.