Two days.

I've been in the dungeons for two days. My entire body aches when shivering and there's a constant battering of my skull when my teeth clank together. Sleeping curled up in a ball whenever I can, in the pile of straw that reeks of urine, is the only way for me to envelope myself in warmth. With that warmth follows a stiff neck and aching back when I wake to find I haven't moved in hours and my legs are stuffed so tight against my chest I can barely unroll myself.

I haven't seen Renit or Celestine. No one has come down the dungeons steps to see if I'm ready to come out. He wasn't kidding when he said to keep me down here for three days and nothing less. I make a note to listen to him later because he clearly doesn't lie whenever he speaks; not even when he promises to lock his betrothed in a dungeon cell.

The only interaction I've had is with the dungeon servants. There's three a day, one in the morning, one in the afternoon, and one in the evening. They serve a meal on a metal tray with a wooden utensil so I don't think about stabbing them when they retrieve what is left behind. I would never think of stabbing someone but if I had wanted to, a guard follows them around so none of the prisoners take advantage. I'm offended for them even thinking I have the strength to stoop that low.

Down in the dungeons, I'm beginning to smell like the rest of the prisoners. I'm unwashed and my hair is knotted and oiled as the rest of me—my fingers are too cold to brush through the strands but again, it would be no use because the straw ruins any bit of beauty I might possess, including what I was wearing when Renit threw me in here.

I'm grateful for my cloak but after being in the rain, I came in here damp. When the temperatures reach their lowest at night, the only indication that it is night, my clothes freeze. That first night, my sleeve cracked with the chill because rainwater had soaked through the fabric. I'll have to talk to Mani about finding me something to wear outside in storms.

With a prince of storm, one able to pull from white clouds; rain, lightning, and thunder—I'll be around a storm more often than Mani imagines. Especially if he keeps devising fits.

The servants deliver my tray of food, a piece of stale bread, cheese, and a cold bowl of porridge. I eat what I can even when my stomach aches so much I can barely handle the bites without vomiting up my guts. I've done that once, yesterday morning when I ate too fast and my stomach was too empty.

With every bite I take, I curse Renit. When I get out of here, I will not mess around any longer. I will figure out my power and then we will move onto the next step in training. After that, I will forget all contact with him and only interact when it is asked of me.

After my meal, I nestle into the silence. No one will be around for the next few hours so this is the time to catch up on sleep us prisoners didn't get the night before because we were too busy shivering to make slumber count. Besides, who wants to sleep with their hands tucked so far into their armpits they can barely breathe?

As I close my eyes, ready to drift off to sleep in the urine-scented straw, I hear him. He's calling my name, searching the cells while he stomps through the many twisting halls. None of the prisoners speak, no one responds.

I run to the bars, calling back, "Silas!" If there's one person able to remove me from this cell, it's the crown prince. He's the next king, the only person who holds power over Renit's orders.

A few moments later, he peers around the corner, spots me, and rolls his eyes. I press my forehead to the bars and sigh under my breath. "That idiot," he grumbles to himself. "He's a damn fool." There is no joy on his face as he moves to the cell and looks for the key hanging from the many metal hooks embedded in the walls. I haven't seen a key. Silas comes back to the cell and searches the hooks closest. Nothing. "He knew I would come down here, he took the key for himself. Guards, summon Prince Renit immediately!" His voice surges down the halls and someone repeats the order to another guard unless that is Silas's voice still echoing through the stone walls.

The chatty prisoners break out into another round of whispers, their only entertainment down here, and I scowl at the sound of them. All they've done is talk about who I am and what I could be doing down here. The betrothed. That's what they call me, even if they heard my name when Celestine and Renit were down here, bickering like children.

Silas drags a hand through his hair and blows out his cheeks. "This isn't your fault," I say quietly.

"No, this is Renit's fault. He's a psychopath." His voice turns to a groveled growl as he again searches the walls and the ceiling for the key. "Are you all right, have they been feeding you?"

I nod, my only answer to the only question he can ask. His eyes wander to the rusted bucket but he doesn't bother asking how that has been faring, I don't think the answer has the slightest chance of pleasing him. The rusted rim is cold but at least no one watches me do my business since absolutely no one has come to visit me except for the servants. "He punished me for trying to escape and gave me three days in the dungeons and kitchen duty."

"Renit is lost in his own world." Silas kicks at a pebble resting on the ground. A small click is the only sound of that pebble hitting the stone wall. "He's normally not this bad, it's just...three days ago was the anniversary of someone he lost so he's been on edge. And as usual, he takes out that anger on someone else. This year, the victim happened to be you." Silas drums his fingers against the iron bars impatiently. If I wasn't mistaken, I think Silas is planning to kick Renit's ass when he finally arrives.

The prince, the witch of storm, has lost someone he cares about. Years ago, maybe—or even the most recent. We've all lost, I've lost my parents, Silas lost his mother, Renit has lost someone too. I want to snap at him and say we've all lost, that doesn't give him an excuse to ruin the lives of everyone else. I've never taken out my pain on anyone else and if I knew he was mourning, I would have avoided the joking or snarky comments.

I shove down the guilt as Renit comes around the corner fast with vengeance in his eyes. When he spots Silas leaning against the bars, he glowers and slows his gait. The guards must not have told him why he was summoned.

"Let her out," Silas orders.

Renit stands up straighter and looks between the two of us. "No, she's serving her punishment. She can leave tomorrow."

Those are the necessary words to unleash Silas's discontent as in the blink of an eye, he shoves both his hands against his brother's chest. Renit's back slams into the wall, spewing dust and debris, but he conveys no sense of pain. "I said let her out. You're engaged to her, and she has done nothing wrong other than one foolish act. Suck up your misery and open the gate before I pry the key from your corpse." Silas doesn't tower over his brother in height but in heft; I can see him beating Renit to a bloody pulp.

The crown prince clenches his hands into fists and stands only inches away so Renit cannot escape left or right.

"My misery?" Renit booms. His voice echoes to the other silent prisoners.

"I know why you've been treating her like she's worthless," Silas hisses. "If you don't learn to suck it up, I'll tell her all about it. Why you're such a coward. Or you can open the gate and be done with this."

I grip tight onto the iron bars and watch them in the middle of a brutal stare down. The dungeons have frozen in time, moving around the brothers as they slow, preparing for an attack that may not come. Both of them have served on a battlefield and have kept their fair share of fights between enemies and friendly soldiers. This is another day on that battlefield; under different circumstances.

"That is my personal business and if you don't learn to keep that to yourself—"

"Open the gate!" Silas interrupts.

Renit flinches but crosses his arms over his chest. "No."

As soon as the betrayal leaves his lips, Silas's fist is driving into Renit's cheek. Bone cracks and the prince topples sideways, into the iron bars. Dark hair slams against them and rattles the entire structure as his head makes contact. He takes one look at me through the now ruffled, dark strands of his hair, and the blame is written in his eyes. You did this. This is your fault.

Blood drips from Renit's now broken nose as he turns back to his brother and springs for the waist first. He moves like lightning and Silas can't defend himself as they slam to the ground. Renit scrambles to steady himself and matches his brother's punch, to the cheek. Now it's Silas's turn to have a broken nose.

"Stop it," I groan. "You fools aren't helping!"

Renit is knocked to the side, rather tossed against the stone wall, and Silas is on top of him in a second. There's a struggle, a second where neither of them has the upper hand to do anything, and then Renit groans as Silas knees him where it counts. The prince doubles over but not before the man with the future crown wraps a hand around his throat and slams Renit's skull into the stone.

"Give me the key!" Silas shouts.

That's not the end of it. Somehow, through ways of his own training, Renit knocks his brother back. They both move so quickly, their moves merely a blur. After hundreds of years of training, what else should I expect? They're trained to be killers and will show no mercy, not to their own blood or to that of others.

The two princes roll and tumble, completely ignoring my protests for what feels like hours. Both of their faces and knuckles are covered in blood and the same goes for their clothes, now covered in dark spots and dirt from the floor. I can do nothing from inside my cell while they beat each other to a pulp like they've done this before. Many times, judging by the way Renit is prepared for Silas's every move and blocks nearly everything before his brother comes back with a second, sneakier attack.

At the same time an exhausted Renit drives his knee into Silas's stomach, shouting erupts from around the corner and my throat dries as the source comes around the corner. The king. He strides towards his sons, who groan in pain and separate as quickly as two dogs who have been whipped. He's burning them from the inside out. Renit slams against the wall shoulder first before slumping to the ground. His brother does the same and only once the boys are subdued, panting and sweating, does the king halt his power.

"You fools," he barks. "I'm about ready to kill both of you."

His eyes never once go to me but I know I'm nothing to him. My purpose is to bring his son back to the weapon he used to be and then marry him. The king's eyes flare with ferocity as he looks from one son to the next with two guards at his sides. Billowing black robes wind around his constricted frame and the matching, fur-lined cape draped over his shoulders reaches all the way to his boots. From here, I can see the fox head sticking out the side.

"Renit locked her up for a minor inconvenience. He's being...childish," Silas grunts as he sits forward. He keeps a hand over his ribs—likely broken. I glare at Renit for dealing that much damage to the future king but my betrothed won't meet my eye. How surprising.

"She isn't your toy, son. She is to be by your side for the rest of her life. Deal with it, you foolish child or I'll take your head myself," the king bellows at Renit. He slouches, panting against the wall. "Do you obey?" Fire flashes in the king's dark pupils.

Renit swallows and nods. "Yes, father," he says quietly.

"Good. Clean yourselves up and let her out. I will hear none of this." He turns on his heel, pushing through the guards and back through the dungeons. The entire underground chamber stops breathing until hinges whine and a door slams a few halls over, the signal that he's gone.

Renit fishes the key from his pocket and tosses it over to Silas. The metal skids against the dirt. "Since you care about her so much, you let her out. I'm done." The prince stands with a grunt and limps out the same way his father left. They look the same, nearly identical, if it wasn't for Renit's limp, they would share the same ruthless gait. I can't stand either of them, even if the king was on the right side today.

Silas doesn't bother going after his brother. Instead, he moves to my cell and unlocks the gate, swinging it open so I can get through. A rush of happiness, of relief, takes over me and I throw my arms around his neck. I don't think about how bad I smell or how much blood drips from his face and soaks into his tunic.

At first, he stills. Either from the pain or considering, I don't know. After a moment, his hands find their way around my back and he hugs tightly, resting his cheek on the top of my head. There is such warmth in the prince that I wonder why the rest of the castle is so cold. This embrace, the first I have received since coming here, is my reminder that I have the best member of the royal family on my side.