The throne room is cold, empty, and dark. At this time of night, the rest of the castle is the same but slowly, whispers are spreading. Through the mouths of guards standing at their posts or those that are taking a late-night stroll to the kitchens in search of an unhealthy snack, word is spreading that the prince has returned.

Escaped—and returned.

Guards stand at the open doorway to the throne room, leaving Renit and myself to stand and wait for his father to arrive. The king was shaken from his slumber, judging by the startled face of the guard when he returned after summoning their leader. The king is not at all happy to be dealing with this at such a late hour.

I shift back and forth impatiently, waiting for the click of his leather boots with each heavy step. They don't come until I least expect them and it's not one pair but two. I expect Silas to be with him and my heart leaps into my throat until I turn around and spot a different face emerging with the king. Not someone I recognize.

Renit's brows furrow as he is also clouded by confusion. "That's Binx Declan," the prince whispers close to my ear. "He was serving in the war until now. I thought he was...dead."

"Apparently not," I whisper back, keeping my eyes low.

The king trudges up the stairs of the dais and plants himself on that looming throne. Without the crown, he is still intimidating. The dark ink traveling up to his neck and seemingly choking the base of his throat, the unstartled frown at the sight of his son suddenly returned. The king's eyes are drooped with exhaustion and his long, dark hair is pulled back behind his head—leaving only two strands to frame his face.

I used to think Renit and his father looked exactly the same. Their similarities stop beyond the dark hair, tanned skin, and warrior's frame.

Renit straightens his spine as Binx stops at the foot of the dais and turns to face us. He doesn't smile either, no one is smiling in this room as we stand to face each other. Yet, I give him a nod of welcome—of return. A thank you for serving in a war that will not be won on either side.

To my surprise, he acknowledges my gesture with a nod back and a slight lift of the corner of his mouth. A smile. I'm getting off to a better start with Binx than I ever did with Renit. One person won't hate me—that's a tally I need to start.

"My son," the king begins with his rough voice. "You have returned."

Renit clears his throat, yet whatever is lodged in there doesn't release. He can't speak. This is my chance. "Your Highness, I will regret to inform you that the prince was injured," I blurt. From the corner of my eye, I watch the prince's stare snap over to me but he doesn't move to stop what else I might have to say. "It would be wise if he were tended to by a healer."

The king scratches at his chin. Binx's hand drifts to his sword lazily as his eyes shift between me and the prince. There's no way for me to discern his features or what he may be thinking. Neither of us know why he is here in the first place.

In the two months I've been here, I've never seen him. He's not as intimidating as the princes, he's shorter, stockier, but compared to hundreds of years of training, doesn't have as much bulk. Binx has a guard's mass. Strong but not over doing it.

Not only does his mass lack in comparison to the princes but the intimidation on their faces does not present itself with Binx. He's almost innocent looking—a button nose, plum shaded eyes that are wide with curiosity, and short brunette curls that barely extend past his scalp.

No, I have never seen him before. But he's standing at the king's side for a reason and already, I'm wary of what hides underneath his skin. Unless he's not that strong and holds no secrets of witches.

The king sighs. "Fine, he shall be tended to while you explain what the hell happened," the king orders.

I turn to Renit, offering a nod, and a guard steps forward to escort him to the healers' catacombs. Although he warily studies my face, searching for answers that I will not give, he obliges. I'm safe in this castle and if he believes he's only stepping out for a few minutes to be tended to, he won't have a problem.

Once he's gone, I take the deep breath I've been holding in since we arrived. Now I can do this. Now I can lie without Renit stopping me and telling the truth as to what really happened.

The king raises his eyebrows at me. "Go on, tell me what happened."

Even if I've spent two months underneath the same roof as this man, I'll never get used to his presence. He's a threat to anything that moves and the king will always be seen that way, especially now. I could be part of the rebellion that orchestrates his death.

"We were captured." I swallow the dryness in my throat. "A rebel shot an arrow through Renit's shoulder and he went down. After that—"

"Did I not tell you to protect each other?" The king interrupts. My entire body stiffens. I know what he can do, I've seen what happens when witches don't do as he says. Renit's injuries are proof of that.

I stutter over what I want to say next. "It was an accident. We didn't see the rebels, they were disguised in the trees. Since my power was under the influence of titanium, I could not fight back."

The king scoffs and rubs at his eyes. I glance over at Binx, a quick avert of my eyes, and while he had one been staring at me, he quickly looks to the floor. His brown skin casts a golden shade in the moonlight streaming in from the windows. "You didn't do anything to protect the prince?"

Warm blood covers my hands like gloves and the cold pommel of a sword pricks at my fingertips. I killed someone. I killed one of the rebels and because of Bren, there was no consequence. "No...I killed one of the rebels," I mumble. "I killed one of them but we were still captured and held for ransom."

"I received the note," the king confirms. The bored tone in his voice alone makes me grit my teeth together.

I want to ask why he didn't help his son, why didn't he agree to get him out. Although extra guards were added to the trail, the king wouldn't go so far as to leave this throne. That proves how much love extends between this family. Why the princes' mother doesn't have her head anymore.

"We were held in the flower meadows, on an abandoned farm. Renit and I managed to escape and made it back here," I lie. The words spill easily rom my mouth, running like clockwork, but neither of them point out that what I've said isn't true.

Binx isn't a witch of all-seeing, then.

"Can you tell me anything about their forces?" The king slouches in his throne. His powerful body moves gracefully, like the swift gesture of a dancer.

"They're not very strong. We were caught by surprise but I believe that with the right group of guards, you can take them down. If I were you, I would kill them myself for threatening your crown." I taste bile on my tongue. Have I stretched the lie too far? No, I have to make myself sound convincing. If I don't, the king will not leave to the flower meadows.

A curious smile grows on the king's strong face. A scar I've never noticed before runs down his jawline. That only makes him more intimidating.

"I'm suspecting the prince agrees with you after what they did to him," he muses. Binx shifts uncomfortably at the base of the dais but I ignore him. If he's trying to unsettle me, alone without the prince, it will not work.

I straighten my spine the way Renit does when he's facing his father. "Renit agrees that something should be done. You're best for the job, my king." I bow my head to show allegiance and to, well, kiss his ass. The more puckering, the more likely he is to obey.

"I'll head out with a group of soldiers at first light. Until then, Binx will escort you back to your chambers and you will wait, on standby, for my return. By then, we should have this little rebel problem under control." The king waggles his fingers into the air, displaying more boredom than I thought possible. If I were to tell him I was lying, would that small hint of amusement show on his face? H's hardly allowed himself to slip so far.

Binx steps towards me and the king sucks on his teeth. A warning not to move any further. We're not done here. Binx stiffens and returns to his post so he doesn't upset the king any further.

"We're not done yet," the king confirms. "It would be wise, Aimrey, to start using your power wisely. I've threatened you before and I will not let you slip again." His tapping boot is as much of a reminder of the gibbet as anything. I swallow again but the dryness in my throat remains. "Mistakes cannot be common in the life of a witch. We are to be proper and wise, the same is to be said for you. I would hate to separate you and the prince but if that is what this comes to..."

He allows his voice to trail off. That's exactly what he wants to do, instill fear inside me so I'll worry more about protecting Renit than myself. Not able to shove down the invisible form choking my throat, I nod and offer a bow to the man on the throne. You will never be my king.

He'll never hear those words. The king will never know the truth about how much I hate him. Unless he does and each time I look at him, he's witnessing the fiery rage inside my soul—begging to be released.

"You are dismissed."

Binx steps forward and gestures towards the entry to the throne room with a gentle look in his eye. Up close, he's even more innocent looking. But his strong jaw tells a different story. He's been to war and back and survived the worst.

Binx thinks bloodshed and metal ringing out as blades slide out of sheaths is the worst. The screams of the wounded and those that are being tortured. But this castle comes very close in comparison to the acts of war.