Knocking on the door to Renit's bathing room, I smooth out my basil colored tunic and pick a piece of lint off my dark pants. If the prince takes any longer to fix his hair...

The door opens and Renit stands in the opening, frowning at me for knocking for the millionth time in what seems like the span of a few minutes. But that frown doesn't stick for long as he slides past me and pulls a grey tunic from his armoire, one I've seen him wear over and over again. After begging him this last week to wear something other than that bland color, he still won't give in. I've given up trying.

"Are you sure we don't have to bring anything?" I ask again. I've asked over and over again.

Renit tugs the tunic over his head, messing up the hair he spent so long attempting to fix—there wasn't anything wrong with it in the first place and we're not attending a giant celebration with the entire kingdom here to watch. This is simply a celebration for Dalis's birthday, a small gathering of friends celebrating another year older for a witch that will have many birthdays beyond this one.

"I promise," Renit confirms. "Silas has everything planned, we already got Dalis a birthday gift, there's nothing else we can possibly take with us." Making one final adjustment to his hair, a quick brush of his fingers through the strands, he turns towards me and grabs Dalis's gift from where it rests on his desk—a brand new bow and a quiver of arrows.

That had been what she wanted, had told me as such, after I asked her over and over again one morning when I went to help her in the kitchens. Really, it was to pry about what she wanted for her birthday. At first, she had said nothing and told me she had everything she ever wanted. Judging by Mills's pointed look, I knew that wasn't true and did everything in my power—being annoying is a specialty of mine—until she cracked.

A new bow so she can practice with Celestine who has taken up the skill and is doing well with her training. Through this past week, she's reconciled with Silas, they had a lengthy conversation about what their friendship meant and apologies went in either way. Silas for shutting her out, Celestine for not trying hard enough to help. But neither apology was necessary, those weeks were rough, and no one had expected something so monumental turn so terrible within a matter of one lightning bolt.

"Everyone is waiting for us in the dining room. Let's go before Hallie gets pissy that we're taking too long," I say.

Renit hands over the present wrapped in the finest castle paper and tied with a red bow. It's likely that other gifts she receives will be better than what we've gotten for her but there's nothing fancier than a bow from Mailan, crafted specifically for her and engraved with initials. The craftsman had been filled with glee when we walked into his dingy shop on the outskirts of Mailan. He was so overjoyed that he sent nearly half his supply toppling over when he ran into it, thus creating a disaster with crashing arrows and swords sent flying.

"There's something I want to show you first. We have time before the party starts—Hallie can wait." The prince takes my hand, a perfect fit if there ever was one, and leads me down the stairs.

I don't question him; I haven't questioned him through anything this past week as he took me into Mailan and showed me everything the city had to offer. Despite being so close to the king's reign, the people are well-off. They love life, cherish the parks Silas has donated, and relish in the freedom to explore creative wisdom. We sat in on an art class taught by one of the more skilled witches in the capital, one who cowered when Renit walked in but softened once the prince told a joke and asked if it was all right if he sat towards the back and examined.

There are many creative wonders in Mailan, many more than we allowed ourselves to see. And it stretches farther than art—all the way to iced desserts and stuffed meats or show animals that sell for the highest prices. I was tempted to ask about a goat but they would not tolerate such a stinky animal on the castle grounds.

Renit and I not only explored the capital but each other as well. We haven't made that final step yet, have come close more than once—nearly every night when the rest of the castle is sleeping and no one will intrude—but Renit wants to wait for the right time. From the drive in his kisses, I know it's killing him to do so but with someone of nearly three hundred years tends to take things slower for those that have no experience at all.

We've kept to our limits, driving ourselves mad, but there's plenty of time for us in these coming years. The king has been cheerier lately; the castle hasn't been as tense, and the crystals are forgotten. He hasn't spoken of them and I haven't heard or seen anything of his plan evolving, not even behind closed doors. The king is too busy sparring with his sons, teaching them the ways of his most complicated skills.

Renit takes me out to the courtyard where a hot sun greets us and an endless blue sky. Any witches of the gardens are wiping sweat from their foreheads, stains leaking through their dresses as they work tirelessly to make this place as beautiful as the king desires.

I think the prince is taking me for a stroll until he cuts left, not towards the gardens or the fountains or even the clearing where we've trained tirelessly over the past week to reexamine the strengths of our powers. He's still prone to Outbursts, had almost slipped once if I wasn't there to bring him right back and take him back into the castle before anything else erupted.

Renit heads in a direction I've never gone before, around the side of the castle and down a stone pathway that sees more shadows than it does people. It's evident where he's taking me when I spot tombstones casting their own shadows over a field of bright green grass and flowers lining the wrought iron fences bordering all the way around.

The royal cemetery. Only those of royal blood are allowed to go here to pay their respects to those that have passed. Previous kings and queens, princes and princesses—my heart races in my chest as we pass tombstone after tombstone, all belonging to one specific witch. I don't stick long on the names but as we get closer to the first king and queen; the stones become larger and more detailed.

Their corners are sharp and decorated with swooping thorns and vines, sometimes thick trees or flowers to resemble the beauties of this kingdom. Moss and mold have grown over their surfaces in the shadows of the thick trees surrounding us, along with the looming castle over our heads. The cemetery is hidden next to Renit's tower, so close that Darlene and Oisin are near his heart whenever he's anywhere near the castle.

Clutching onto Dalis's present, I attempt to keep my hands from shaking. I won't be meeting them officially, I'll never get the chance to, but this is as close as I'll get. Although they've passed on, their spirits still watch us and upon Renit approaching, I feel the sun warming the stones we pass.

"I would like you to meet Oisin Chathier Marron," Renit says upon stopping. He stands in front of a smaller tombstone, one decorated with the symbol of a baby's rattle to show this witch died before they had the chance to mature. Five short years of life stare back at me, carved as such, and I swallow down the lump in my throat.

Renit's hand squeezes mine a little tighter upon arriving. I smile down at what's left of the young boy—how I would have loved to meet him. I find the light in Renit's eyes as he stares down at that tombstone, smiling as if he's not looking at his son's grave, rather his grin as he laughs.

"Darlene would have hated this spot," Renit whispers. "It's right underneath one of the dirtiest trees in the courtyard. I come out here every autumn and clean up the leaves. That's what she would have wanted."

I interlock my arm with his, resting my head against him. It's the only warmth I can provide, there are no words for a moment like this, so I do what I can to remind him I'm there through every hard day he might face in remembering the two witches he loves most.

Renit then leads me to another tombstone, the one belonging to Darlene and decorated with flowers towards the corners. This is the woman he loved, the woman he started a life with, the one I am replacing. But no woman will ever be as special as the one that gave him a child and...I'm fine with that. My role now is to bring Renit back to the happiness he once had with Darlene and remind him there is a life out there if he reaches far enough to grab it.

"This part of the cemetery is sunnier," I offer. "She would have liked this plot for herself."

He nods solemnly, turning just enough to kiss the top of my head. His touch lingers for a moment, the hot breath from his nose finding its way to my scalp until he looks back towards her grave. A breeze smelling of almond moves past us, either from the kitchens or from the bakeries in Mailan working on another tremendous dessert. Renit closes his eyes, breathing in the scent, and when he opens his eyes—a new wave of softness greets me.

"What about your mother?" I ask quietly as I run my hand up and down his arm. "Did your father allow her here?"

"Surprisingly, she's here." We head towards the other side of the cemetery, towards a taller tombstone with a crown towards the bottom.

The small patch of flowers growing in front of the stone are bright, a lively shade of purple, and a reminder of the queen's favorite color. At least it had to be, all the gowns she wears in her portraits are a lively shade of purple.

"We'll bring flowers tomorrow, okay?" I stand on my toes, kissing his cheek. He stares down at the tombstone, a hint of disappointment revealed in the slight quirk of his mouth to the side.

Not only does he miss Darlene and Oisin, but his mother was a large part of his life. Not only his but to the kingdom, she was the light that brightened the king's darkness when all else failed.

Renit loops his arms around my shoulders. The pressure of his warmth leaks into me and as he guides me out of the cemetery, I wonder if I'll ever tire of the spark that shoots through my soul whenever he looks in my direction or happens to graze me with his touch. My power sings in answer, reaching out for his as my heart does the same. We're locked in more ways than one.

By the time we're heading towards the large dining area in Silas's tower, Hallie is stomping through the halls in a low-cut gown—looking for us. When she spots us, she rolls her eyes and shakes her head in such a dramatic fashion that the triangle earrings dangling from her lobes shake about and tangle in her perfectly straight blonde hair.

Not only has Silas found his way back to himself but Hallie has, too. The princess is back to behaving like one.

"You two can't make anything on time, can you?" She barks, grabbing my arm and tugging us along.

I grin back at Renit who offers a subtle shake of his head, looking down at the floor to hide the lopsided grin on his face.