I've never felt so numb. The world stops and then starts again. One second, I can hear. The next, there's a dull throb in my skull and the sound of the ax plays over and over again in my head.

My father's head rolls onto the marble, blood spurting from his now limp body as it falls onto the floor. My throat aches from screaming; turned to sobbing as the guard finally loses his grip on me and I fall to the floor, knees slamming against the smooth surface. The blood is spreading fast and I scream for my father, the gentle man who raised me to be strong, to be gentle, to be kind, and to be brave. I don't blame him for not understanding my power. I don't blame him for wanting more than a bowl of stew as every meal.

I don't blame him.

Through my blurred vision, I witness the king smiling down at the puddle of blood. But the princes aren't conveying the same expression, not even Renit as he stares down with wide eyes at my father's severed head. Silas swallows the lump in his throat and forces himself to look away.

I don't know what to do. The entirety of me is lost and with no power to awaken, the rage builds and builds until I'm choking on it and there's nowhere else for me to go but down.

I think my worst fears are already imagined but then; the guard pulls my mother forward. My throat is so hoarse I barely have enough left in me to plead. "No, take me instead," I croak. "Please, not her." The guard doesn't bother lifting me off the ground as I slouch there, on my knees, watching as they push down my mother into her husband's puddle of blood.

Tears roll down her beautiful face as she takes in the sight of him up close, without his head. I can't imagine the heartbreak she feels, the pain for a man whose life was already too short. And now...gone too young.

"Don't kill her," Celestine sobs. The guard grips onto her waist and tugs her back. She's not strong enough to fight back. "Please don't kill my mother."

The king doesn't look at her, nor at me. I meet Silas's eye, pleading for anyone to stop this. Burden flashes on his face, in every part of him as he leans forward and clenches onto the armrests.

The throne room is quiet. "Father, I think that's enough killing for today. Perhaps we can postpone this for another time," Silas says quietly.

The king waves him off with a hand. "Shut your mouth, boy. This is what a king must do to restore balance in his land. They stole what did not belong to them. Therefore, they must pay with their lives."

"But father—"

"Silence!" The king roars.

Silas squeezes his eyes shut and sits back in his throne. There's nothing he can do. Nothing or no one can overcome the power of the king, not even his own son. I want to thank him for trying but my heart is shattering into little pieces as my mother turns back to us, her blood, and attempts to smile.

"I love you both," she whispers through the tears. One drips from her chin. "Make him pay for what he's done." When she turns back to the king, there's nothing kind on her face. A warrior born.

"Mother, please," I say through the sobs. She doesn't turn back around.

My mother, my beautiful mother, squares her shoulder and takes a deep breath. Throughout my entire life, she's been the ground I stand on, the solid foundation needed to make me feel secure. She has been everything, from the moment she gave birth to me to the last hug she gave me in the carriage—reassurance.

She is the stone holding this entire family together. Her necklace presses against my chest, the last thing I have of her, and I watch, helplessly as the guard swings the ax again and with the brutal slice of metal cutting through flesh and bone, my mother's head topples to the floor—same as her body.

I let out a scream of pain, of anger, as the blood of my two parents mixes. I need to grab onto something, to feel secure in this world but there is nothing. Tears roll down my cheeks and I try to control myself but there's no use. My heart aches and more than anything I want to run but the guard holding onto my chains isn't dumb enough to let me slip past. I can't do anything and neither can Celestine as she cries quietly, asking for my parents like they can still answer.

"Get up," the king snarls.

"No." I shake my head.

"Do you want to lose your head, too, or shall I reserve that right for your dear sister?"

Willing all the power into my bones, I force myself to stand. I hate him. I hate Renit. I hate Silas. Even though the crown prince tried, his efforts weren't enough. And it never will be, not with the king on the throne. I can't look at any of them and I don't want to, not when their blood is the one spilling my own.

My entire body trembles with restraint but I force myself to look into the king's black eyes. There isn't a soul there and there never has been. He took his wife's head and thousands of others—slaughtering innocents on their doorsteps. All my parents wanted was to give us a better life, away from the grip of the king. They had done that for as long as they could and now...I can't bring myself to look down at their lifeless bodies or the pool of blood bordering the dais.

"Now that we're done with that, I want to discuss what is to come of your future," the king dictates. "My son needs a Grounding, but he also needs a wife. You are to fill the shoes of both whether you like it or not."

"No," I sob. The word comes out more like a whine and I look to Renit. Now he's the prince focused on the floor. Silas is looking between the two of us, eyes broad with shock. "I'm not a princess."

"I don't care if you're not a princess. This way, I don't have to find a worthless princess for my son. You will do just fine." He looks me over. "Once you're cleaned up, you'll fit the part."

This is to be my life. I am to wed the prince of Esaria, the cruel, disgusting prince that nearly killed me with his power. There's nothing I can do. He needs a Grounding and a wife. My brain can't process the thought of being wed to someone in the royal family, of becoming the true face of terror in the eyes of the innocents. They have feared him and now, they will fear me too.

Celestine takes a shuddered breath. I want to reach out and hold her but my body doesn't want to move; it wants to crumble and wither away into nothing. If my parents don't have the right to live, then neither should I. Celestine, the last purity of us left, should marry a good man—someone who loves her.

Then it hits me. The king has no use for her.

"What are your plans for my sister?" I dare to ask.

The king rests his chin on his fist. "She is of no use so I guess..." His eyes wander down to my parent's lifeless bodies.

"No, if you do that then I will not agree to this marriage. I will end my own life before you end hers," I threaten. To show him I mean business, I bring the chains up to my throat.

Celestine shifts and whimpers but I ignore her. This is just a play, a play for her life. Without this, she may lose her head too and I can't let her die. Celestine is the last bit of family I have left, the last connection to the world we once had in the palms of our hands. We were so lucky and every day; we took advantage of that freedom. Now it's gone.

The king rolls his eyes. "Fine, she can live. I'll find a use for her later. She can...tend to the gardens or something, I don't care." He waves her off with a lazy, dark hand. Celestine heaves a sigh of relief. That's all we can hope for, to have someone keep their head.

It's pitiful to think I actually want to thank him for sparing her.

"With this marriage, I do not allow you to leave the castle. You will have no other intimate relationships with any man or woman for that matter. You will obey to Renit's rules, training, and relationship—do as he asks. If you disobey, if you attempt to flee, there will be a punishment." The king grins. I stiffen. "In two months, we will hold a celebratory ball for your engagement. We will inform the kingdom that the prince has been engaged, and he has found his Grounding. No one will think of attacking us again."

Because it's happened before and Renit didn't have proper preparation. Confirming my superstitions, he looks down at his hands after staring into blank space for a few, too long minutes. That's why he needs a Grounding, the prince is the king's weapon. He can take down an entire army with lightning and what looms within, thunder and wind. The sight of a storm alone is enough to make a soldier tremble in his boots.

Very quietly, I say, "I accept your terms."

The king grins. "Welcome to the family, Roux Aimrey."