Instead of rushing me to training right away, Renit takes me to the kitchens first. Although I was let out of my cell a day early, the rest of my punishment stands. I still tried to escape, and the king decided the best thing for me is to fulfill that punishment for trying—hopefully working in the kitchens will deter me from trying again.

There is a wall between us as we head to the kitchens. After his scuffle with Silas, Renit went to the healers to fix his broken nose and repair anything else that might have snapped in two when his brother beat the living crap out of him. Today, there is no amusement on his face. I contemplate he might be lost in thought but then again, what else does he think about other than cold, murderous scenarios?

On a normal day, Renit rushes me. Today was different. He gave me the proper time to take a bath, my third since leaving the dungeons, and pulled out a shirt and a pair of pants for me to wear while he waited. That didn't stop him from throwing the clothes at me though when I walked out of the bathing room in nothing more than a towel, asking desperately to talk to him about what happened.

It hadn't worked, to say the least.

As the clatter of the kitchens comes closer, I realize this might be my only chance. "I'm sorry for trying to leave," I say. "After training that day and the things you said, I—"

"You don't have to explain yourself," he interrupts. His voice is brittle but doesn't carry the harsh nature of his normal attitude. I don't know what to say when he doesn't scream at me.

"That's the thing. I think I need to explain myself. My power is difficult to understand and with training being so cruel, focusing is difficult."

He nods like he's actually listening. "Fine. From now on, I'll oversee your training but Silas will mimic your power to figure out what the problem is," he says. Never once does he tear his eyes away from what's ahead, hall after hall. Renit doesn't quicken his pace to get to the kitchens, but he doesn't slow down either and I can only assume he's doing what he can to not look like a jerk. For once.

I sigh and say, "Thank you. I know this has been hard with...everything but once we get our powers figured out, then we can move onto the next step and merge together. After this, you won't have to wait around." The kitchens come into view and Renit stops to avoid crashing into one of the speedy servants.

With an impatient hand on my back, he leads me through the bustling crowd of those moving to get food and others returning to their tables with trays of food in hand. Hardly anyone pays us any attention and if they do notice us, their eyes immediately divert back to what is in front of them or to the conversation they were having before.

"And I heard Silas say something about a lost loved one. I just wanted to let you know that I'm sorry for whoever you lost and I promise I won't mention it again," I tell him as he continues to push. My words strike home as this time he does slow but only enough to throw a cold shade of loathing over his features.

The prince steers me into the kitchens, past the array of delicious-looking food and people. Tucked in the corner, behind the stone walls and display cases is a small kitchen barely big enough for more than five people to fit in. And with Renit's mass, there is hardly any room for the two of us. A row of countertops crowded with cutting boards, knives, bowls, and ingredients greets me and next to that, the stove simmers with something cooking in the skillet on top of it.

"This is where you will be working for the next month. You are on breakfast duty and will do everything the kitchen staff asks of you," Renit explains. To act like I'm obeying to his every word, I nod. Just to please him. "The head chef is Mills and his assistant is Dalis. You'll know them when you see them." He claps two hands on my shoulders before I can retort and leaves me standing there, in the middle of the kitchen.

Part of me doesn't know what to do while the other part wants to turn to the simmering pan because whatever is cooking will burn if no one tends to it. But before I can do anything because my feet are planted so far into the ground I don't want to move a muscle, a young woman bustles from the other room—a side closet stocked with ingredients by the looks of the shelves in the cracked wooden frame.

She doesn't notice me as she scurries to the pan and quickly removes the content, fried potatoes, and fills a metal tray with the steaming, delicious ingredients. Every move is routine for her and as she turns to put the tray with the others, she brushes the sweat from her umber forehead with the back of her arm. Thin, gold bands dangle against her wrist and she huffs a sigh when turning to one of the cutting boards. So much going on at once in only one small woman.

"I told you, we were out of flour! The king doesn't—" The old man shouting from the closet stops in his tracks at the sight of me in his kitchen. "Ah, you must be Roux, my new assistant for the month." In the first second, he reminds me of my father, the same thinning hair, except this man carries an intelligent shade of white.

The woman at the cutting board looks over her shoulder at me; wide sapphire eyes squinting. She looks me up and down with a frown and then finds the nerve to smile and bow. She knows who I am, both of them must know who I am.

"Come, girl, you're in charge of taking the empty trays out of the display cases and putting in new selections for the lovely people to eat," he orders. The old man wobbles over to where she was moments before, where five trays wait to be taken out and served to the hundreds of guests in the castle. This place is no exaggeration.

"I'm guessing you're Mills," I say loudly over the scream of onions pushed into the oiled skillet. She gives me an apologetic look before she turns back around and begins pushing those onions around so they don't burn. Sweat continues to drip from her bald head and every few seconds, when her eyes burn, she dabs at the beads with a handkerchief.

"And that is Dalis. I am a witch of herbs and spices, she is a witch of water. We're both very important, yes. Now, take out these trays two at a time. Bring two back and scrub them clean. When you're out there, they will crowd so don't be scared to use those boney elbows. Push your way through," Mills dictates before grabbing my arms and turning me towards the trays.

Two trays, one filled with eggs and the other with potatoes, are shoved into my hands and then I'm pushed out from where I came—right into the bustle.

People move around me like tornadoes, swirling and twisting while others ooh and ahh about what I carry in the trays, trying to pick at them without bothering to wait until they're where they need to be. I can see why Mills told me to use my elbows, these people are relentless.

I shove through the thick crowd and make my way towards the breakfast display cases, wooden stands filled with a selection of many trays. Through the glass barriers, I pick out two trays identical to the same number I'm leaving, one empty with small egg pieces and the other, riddled with petite chunks of potato and onion.

Someone shoves into my left and with my elbow, I jostle them back and take out one of the empty trays. Their heat presses against my back but I don't care. Kitchen duty is not supposed to be fun, Renit told me this morning when I looked all too excited to be doing something other than sticking myself so far up his ass that the sun doesn't even think of shining there. His words, not mine.

"You're in my way," the person behind me whispers in my ear.

A chill travels up my spine and I jump, whirling to see Darius smirking down at me. His arms are stretched out at his sides so he touches nothing that doesn't belong to him. The relative of the royal family smirks down at me as I rub a startled hand over my chest.

I had spoken to him only a little but since I arrived, much of our meals are filled with shoving food in our faces so the time for conversation is little. And he spends most of his days flirting with women at other tables so I don't have much interest in what he has to say.

"You'll have to wait your turn," I growl.

Darius raises his eyebrows and purses his lips together. As usual, he looks perfect. Not a single hair is out of place on his head. The sight alone irks me, more than the man himself.

"I see training has taken a toll on you already. Is Renit treating you that bad?" He scoots next to me, shoving past and bumping his hip with mine. While he scoops bits of porridge into a bowl, he watches me with that devilish smirk. Every time he looks at me, I wonder if he can read every single thought in my mind. Or is that not how his power works? "You come here with such attitude and now, you're kind of being a bitch."

I debate slamming the empty tray into his face. "That's what happens when the man you're supposed to marry throws you in the dungeons." Someone else shifts on my other side but I don't let them through and Darius glares at them for even trying. One of the full trays slide in and across the way, on the other side of the display, someone takes a scoop of steaming eggs and plops the heap onto their plate.

"I heard about that. You know I could never treat you that way, I'm much more civil." Darius places an innocent hand against his broad chest. "Unless you're into chains and all that." He winks and I find myself blushing. That is just his power, he's using his power on you.

I bring myself back, remembering the gold weight on my finger. "There's a reason Renit's initials are on this band. That's because he's the man I'm supposed to marry. You can't talk to me that way."

Darius's mouth quirks to the side as he steps close to me and leans into the side of my face. The warmth of his breath brushes against my neck and I remain there, frozen. Something tugs in my chest, a fist clenching around my heart, and I know he's holding me there. The titanium band around my wrist stops me from protecting myself. "I know Renit doesn't want you in his bed, but I would be glad to show you around my own," Darius whispers against my skin.

Heat prickles across my face and he slowly moves away, winking at me. As I scream in my mind, his power finally sinks away from my soul and there's freedom again, I can breathe. Before he departs and saunters back over to his table, his eyes drift for only a second and he drags his tongue across his bottom lip. Typical, witches like Darius are so typical. They think they can have whatever they want just because they've lived hundreds of years and have the time to experience every single woman that walks into this castle.

With the two trays gathered in my arms, empty and cold, I turn back to see where he disappeared to. Just as he's sitting down, I catch Renit's eye, already looking at me. His eyes dart between the two of us and he picks at his food before looking back down to the plate entirely. There wasn't a hint of jealousy there but of confusion—probably why I didn't clock Darius for speaking to me that way.

I scurry back to the kitchens, only to be met by more trays and more dishes. Before long, I've buried myself in my work and there isn't any time to think about what Renit might think or what Darius offered me. I take trays and bring others back in, all the while forgetting about the rest of the room or the threat of my betrothed watching me. But I feel the heat of someone's eyes and hope they're his, so I don't have to deal with what Darius might be thinking.

The morning hours go by quickly and by the time the kitchens are clearing, the simmering in the skillet slows until there is silence, and Dalis stops arguing with Mills about a spice combination, sweat lines my brows and my feet are numb inside leather boots.

"You've done good," Mills tells me. He pats me on my sore shoulder before departing the kitchens, cleaning his hands with a towel as he shuffles along.

That only leaves Dalis and me, both tending to our final tasks. I was instructed to clean the rest of the dishes, ironically since she's the witch of water. She scrubs the empty tables and cleans up the trash left behind from the messy courtiers and Darius, who left crumbs all over the floor and water he laughed through his nose, spilled over the marble floors. One of the few moments Renit has actually smiled.

Dalis works swiftly and quietly, shifting through the kitchens to gather cleaning supplies before she's gone again, off doing something else. Every time she passes by, she gives me a smile and her dark lips glisten with stunning gloss. At least she doesn't hate me right away, compared to others in this castle.

She trudges back into the kitchens and wrings out the rag in the sink. "Not too bad for your first day," she says. Behind me, the towel rack squeaks as she rests the rag on top of it.

"I've been doing this for years back home," I respond. "I was in charge of greeting the new refugees and feeding them when they arrived. So the bustle is nothing new." Even small families no more than five were plenty to deal with, not one was more difficult than the last. Each new refugee carried the weight of their journey and their story. Many fled from executions.

"Back in Arego?" She asks.

The dishes are clean, finally, so I turn off the faucet and dry off my hands with a nearby towel. Dalis rests against the countertops with her elbows and forearms stretched across the surface. A black line of kohl stretches over her lid and her pointed nose appears to be glittered with gold. Even after hours in the kitchen, sweating next to a hot stove, she still gives the impression of being ready to attend a party. She's absolutely stunning.

"Yes, back in Arego," I say quietly. I avoid her looming eye, waiting for more than what I want to say.

"I heard great things about the little village. Everyone wanted to leave this place, but it was very difficult when the king started holding people hostage. No one was allowed to travel and if they were caught anywhere near Arego, innocents were dragged back and thrown in the dungeons to be interrogated." Yet there isn't any hint of blame in her voice, telling me I should have been here with the others, fighting instead of hiding.

"That's terrible." I couldn't imagine. Some refugees arrived with wounds but it wasn't anything that couldn't be fixed by healers. The king, as I've discovered, has cruel interrogation tactics to pressurize somebody into cracking under the pressure. Making their blood boil is enough for blood-curdling screaming.

Dalis nods. "Now that Arego is under, there is nowhere for outcast witches to go. Your home...was a haven."

"You speak highly of a place frowned upon, especially in this castle." I walk over to where she stands and sit on a rickety stool on the other side of the counter. She watches me warily like I'm a ghost instead of a girl. To be offended by those wary in the castle would be a waste of time, everyone is aware of the extent that flows through my veins and with what can be unleashed, at the fate of their own lives, is the ideal reason for them to make their decision of me before getting to know what lies underneath, besides the uncontrollable.

She glances back out to the many rows of tables in case someone happens to be listening in from beyond a cracked stone pillar. I've already learned talks of Arego are dangerous, I've caught Renit glaring at me on multiple occasions when I bring up the subject to Celestine. "One of my cousins escaped to Arego. He never came back so I'm guessing he had a joyful life there before that prince of yours ruined it all."

My prince. Referring to him that way, to a stranger, would make it seem we like each other. That is definitely not the case. "Everyone was happy but...everything happens for a reason, I guess." The hope I've been holding onto by my cracked fingernails, waiting so desperately to find a strong hold in this castle while everything else tries to tear me apart. That's the line I toe when dreams of my dead parents threaten to pull me under and training is too unbearable under Renit's watch.

Everything happens for a reason.

Dalis taps her knuckles on the wooden counter. "If that reason includes ruining the life of innocents," she confesses quietly enough.

I can't hide my weak smile at that. We were innocent. "I think you would have loved it. The kitchens were smaller though, there was hardly any room to walk around. Mills would go insane." With how many times the man has pattered around this kitchen today, cursing about the cramped conditions, Dalis's strength to put up with it is more than I could ever muster. The tray becomes a viable weapon in my hands to shut him up if he said another word, yet I refrained.

Dalis giggles. She hides that smile with a hand, now riddled with gold bands. The work is done so except for the gold bangles, she can sport all her beautiful jewelry. An arrow spikes through the tip of her right ear as well, in one side and out the other. The colors of the kingdom are black and gold; Dalis wears gold like a true princess. Unlike Hallie, who says the color is too close to her hair to be anything special and besides, silver is better.

"What was it like having a mortal father?" Dalis questions. "I've grown up in this castle, without my parents who were immortal but slaughtered by the king. Mills raised me but...no one I've met shares the sentiment of a mortal father."

I sigh. This is a heavy conversation topic for my weak bones. I've spent the entire morning picking through my own thoughts about my parents and what they might think of me now, the memories I hold so close to my heart, the love we had as a family. Still have, as they will always be my parents and I will always love them. "Having a mortal father was...ignoring what is to come," I try to explain. "Knowing I am to be immortal and knowing he is not, I tried to make the years count, even when I hadn't reached the Age Lock yet. Mortal lives are short, way too short to see everything this world has to offer and my father didn't have time to experience the half of it."

I look down at my hands as the kitchens silence. The last person eating their meal leaves, a lowly guard who was released from night duty in the throne room. His armor clanks together as he departs and then, the only sound is Dalis's deep intake of breath. "I am very sorry about your parents. Mills heard your screams that day and...many others did too. Although we share a loyalty to the king, we also share the sentiment of life. Sometimes, it's gone too soon. Even for the immortals." She places her hand on my shoulder and immediately, the warmth of her sympathy leaks through.

I've heard apologies from Silas, Darius, and hints of them from servants and Mani. To have another is no different but to have that apology come from Dalis, a woman who does not know me except for this morning and one who will be in the same position soon enough is important. Refreshing. I force myself to smile and nod, a thank you for her kind words.

She scratches at the back of her head and garners one last look around the kitchens. The final check for one last mess. When she doesn't find one, except for the awful, cluttered way I stacked the now-drying trays, she releases a sigh. "I'll see you tomorrow morning. I'll have an apron ready." She gives a pointed look down to my tunic before swaying out of the kitchen, offering one final wave before disappearing around the corner.

My tunic is riddled with bits of food and a small spot of water. Someone bumped into me, carrying a cup of water, and apologized profusely when they saw the ring on my finger. The water spot happened to be close enough to my breast, so they didn't bother trying to wipe it away, and they allowed me to go back to work.

As I stand on aching feet, something crinkles in my pocket and I look down to notice a small piece of paper sticking out. I didn't put that there...who did?

The paper answers the question:

Training

Be there once you're done in the kitchens

Don't take too long or

I'll drag you out there myself

I don't have to wonder who left that note. The only person with the audacity to threaten to drag me out to the clearing is Renit, my divine betrothed. I scowl down at his handwriting and crinkle the paper into a ball. This is my life now, my mornings will be spent underneath the chandeliers in the kitchens, sweat dripping from my brow and for the rest of the day, I'll be at Renit's mercy—under a different light.