My feet don't fail me. Every other part of me is ready to crumble and hide behind a large group to act like one of the ordinary citizens but my feet keep me going, all the way to the Great Hall. Golden chandeliers hang overhead and with the twinkling lights, the copper marble floors and white tablecloths are blinding.

Each table is lined with black plates and gold accents. It must be the theme for tonight, as the streamers and ribbons wrapped around banisters and stone columns are the same. Each floral decoration around the Great Hall is glittered with gold, provided by the garden attendants themselves. Celestine worked weeks to achieve this.

My heart pounds in my chest as I walk into the bustling Great Hall. The large room is already packed with people I don't recognize and some look to be from Esaria while others, their wardrobe stems from somewhere else. I'm thankful none of them notice me as the formal introductions have yet to begin and any eyes drawing themselves to me are quickly darted back from where they came. I'm happy to be unnoticeable.

On the royal dais, the king sits with the gold crown atop his dark hair, pulled back into a complicated braid. There is no sign of the princes or Hallie, the rest of the thrones are empty. Just a man and his two sons; the late queen doesn't get a spot on the dais and neither does her crown.

Beyond the tables and near the open space for the dance floor, a banquet table stocked with desserts, appetizers, and chalices of wine wait to be picked through. Black and gold streamers hang from the rim and from the vaulted ceiling, ribbons tied against glass orbs with shimmering glitter meant to look like stars twist slowly from where they hang.

For now, the melodic tune played is a violin and flute. The rest of the musicians sit idle and watch the crowd streaming through. Only two couples dance slowly to the song and before long, they're bored enough to leave the dance floor entirely.

"I'll take it from here." I'm relieved to look over and see my sister standing there instead of a prince. I don't want to talk to them, not when my thoughts are swirling with so much fear I can barely think.

The guard bows to me in dismissal, a dead giveaway to my standing, and Celestine loops her arm with mine. All breath squeezed from my lungs returns in her presence and as she takes a deep breath, I find it easier for me to do the same.

"Who knew a king so cruel could throw such a fabulous party," I say through a shaken breath.

"Look at all these people, I wonder where they came from." She glimpses around the room to decipher the fabulously groomed hair and faces but finds no one worth considering. Each person is dressed in luxurious gowns or suits, sometimes an embroidered doublet finds its way into the mix.

Many chat in groups amongst themselves, holding chalices of wine or small dessert they can pop into their cheek during a conversation. With the more people I look over, the more regal they become.

"They're all people we never should meet. If we were still in Arego, these people would be nothing more than the ones destined to kill us." I try to swallow the dryness in my throat but like the king's stare, it won't go away. His eyes are on me the entire time, stuffed into the corner of the Great Hall and away from the attention of others.

There is nothing kind in that stare, not a good luck or best wishes to your future. Icy rage unites me every time our eyes meet and finally, I force myself to stop looking at the dais and the two thrones on either side. The things he could do to me and to thousands of other innocents with his power is sickening. He could boil this entire room alive and not think twice about it.

Celestine sighs. "Things happen for a reason and I hate to say it's for the best but...Arego would have been our downfall, eventually. The king would have killed us and the entirety of the innocent people living there."

The words cut through me, sharp as a knife. For Celestine to be okay with this means I have to be a fraction of what she feels. I've been growing used to this castle and part of it has become home to me. The same has come to her, apparently, and I don't know if that is a good thing or a bad thing. Should I relish in the riches or mourning what remains of a once beautiful village?

"I wish they could have seen it," she whispers. "Both of us growing up."

My heart clenches and there I am again, back in the throne room with my parents' bodies on the floor. Breathing is difficult again, like the flick of a switch, and I have to channel my vigor to avoid lashing out and leaving this Great Hall entirely. For my sake, the king clears his throat and stands from his throne.

Slowly, as the rest of the room adjusts to his large presence and billowing red cape, he prepares himself. All eyes turn to him, even my own, and my heart flutters in my chest. Not with excitement but the nerves to get this over with and forget it ever happened. I can move on from this, we all can.

"Welcome all, from the kingdom and the next, to the celebration honoring my son and his new bride," the king speaks loud enough for everyone to hear. Whispers and a few gasps break out, mixing in with the crowd, but no one turns to me. "As some may know, my son had an Outburst. His power failed him, as it does to all of us. In a refugee village not far from here, we found the answer. A witch of ground, his Grounding, offered us her aid and her hand in marriage."

Offered, as if I did this willingly. He must make it seem that way for the crowd so it doesn't look like I was forced here. And his words, chosen so carefully, must make Renit look like his Outburst is merely a grain of sand on the world's largest shore. Not an Outburst, the moment every witch fears.

"My kingdom has thrived on the strength of myself, my soldiers, my court, and my sons. We have won wars, taken land from our enemies, and squashed any word of an uprising in this kingdom. We are strong, we are brave, and Esaria is proud to be called such. You are honored to be here tonight and share with my son the moment in his life we have all waited for. The second chance, the bride to be, the Grounding."

My breath catches in my throat as I realize what he is about to do. His dark hand covered in gold rings extends to me and where I stand, shoved against the wall. Suddenly, the Great Hall is too small as eyes drift around, searching for the target.

"May I introduce to you all, princess of Esaria and my son's beautiful bride, Roux Aimrey." The words are simple yet suffocating. With Celestine's hand pushing me forward, I walk towards the dais. My eyes never leave his.

I hear the beat of my heart, like thunder in my ears, and as all eyes turn on me—the moving figure in a motionless crowd—everything silences. I forget what happens until I'm standing in front of him, the king, the man I've feared my entire life. He smiles down at me. The king stands even taller than usual as the raised dais protrudes him as the strong leader, the ruler above all. Anyone below is worth nothing in comparison.

No one tells me to bow but I do anyway, to please him and that silent crowd. The whispers behind me are too mixed and hushed to understand but the words are not good; I can feel that in my heart. Any eligible suitor, a real princess, wants to claw out my eyes.

"Roux Aimrey, you have been lucky to have been chosen by me and my son. You are his Grounding and one day—you will be his wife. Your loyalty will extend to this kingdom, to my son, and to the entirety holding it together; me. Do you pledge your loyalty to all?" The king asks. His voice sinks into my soul. Last chance. This is my last chance to back out.

I bow my head low, eyes on the copper marble twisting with an intricate design and clench my hands into fists around the front of my gown. "I pledge my loyalty to all," I say weakly. Those words are hate itself and taste just the same.

The king descends his dais and stands in front of me, only inches separating our bodies. He's so much larger than I am and his smell, of blood and leather, chokes me. Both of his large hands find their way to my shoulders and he turns me towards the crowd, watching me. For the first time, they memorize my face. The outside of me, what they can see on the surface, is enough to determine what they want about my personality and power. The king's warm hands against my shoulders pierce through the sheer lace of my gown and past the gold flowers, into my skin.

I don't want this. I want to go home; I want to see my parents and Bren and find a life for myself in Arego.

Two months. It's been two months since that took place. And yet, that life feels in reach still. I'm barely holding onto it with my fingertips. Clinging onto the cliff side ledge, I can still hear the rushing waves and the grass swaying together in the breeze. Mist sprays against my face and I close my eyes, breathing it in. But I am not there anymore and neither is Celestine, neither are my parents.

As I stand in front of this crowd of people I don't know, I realize it's time to let that dream go. Arego will never be. My parents' legacy is as good as dead and this one—it is my own. I will find a cause here like Mani told me to do that first day I arrived and couldn't find the strength to move on without my blood, my parents.

The king's grip tightens onto my shoulders as he says those words to solidify me into this life forever. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and let that part of me go. My nails unhinge from the cliff sides and I let myself fall, only to be caught—not by the ocean but by Renit and Silas and the king himself. Because there is nowhere else to drop.

The crowd applauds, albeit quietly and safely, before the king whispers in my ear. That whisper brings me back and shoves me out of that fantasy I pushed myself into. "Stand off to the side; formal introductions will follow," he whispers. Like a controlled witch, I do as he asks and stand off to the side of the dais. Although most of the eyes are still on me, I sense part of the pressure taken off as they turn back to the king.

"The man destined to follow in my reign has a heart of gold and the strength of a warrior. Please, bow to your future leader, Silas Marron." The king gestures towards the large doors towards the back of the hall. At the request, those doors open to reveal Silas, dressed in a fine black doublet with silver embroidery.

The room hushes and as loyal subjects, they drop into a bow in respect of the future king. I allow a dip of my chin, it's all I can manage without completely passing out. The only sound in the Great Hall is Silas's boots as he cuts through the middle of the room at the mercy of his people. He is not the one they are here to see but anyone refusing to acknowledge will lose their head.

The golden crown over his dark hair is proof of that. Smaller than his father's but large enough to show he's a man of status. He bows to his father first at the royal dais and then turns to me, closing that too-small space to take my hand in his.

I try to smile but I know he can feel my shaking fingers against his touch. There is only reassurance in his wink and in the gentle kiss on the back of my hand before he departs and moves to stand to the side of the dais. The familiar face is soothing but knowing it belongs to the crown prince doesn't help matters.

The next person worthy of introduction is Hallie, dressed in a very daring, low-cut, crimson gown. The corset tightens her waist, not dramatically, but enough to accent her breasts as she wills it. Silver sparkles against her forehead in the form of a circlet, simple compared to the tiaras I've seen in portraits of the queen herself. Will I receive anything of that magnitude?

She bows to her king with a frown, typical Hallie, and stands off to the side with Silas. He barely acknowledges her other than what he's supposed to do—a kiss on the back of the hand. They're not the perfect match and that is evident when standing next to each other. In fact, they look completely wrong together. Hallie with her hardness and Silas with his softness. They are a match made for alliance, not love. And a man who deserves it more than anything is the one who received nothing better than force from his father.

"Now, please welcome the man of the hour, my son, the prince and the warrior, Renit Marron." My stomach leaps into my throat as the doors open again, this time revealing the man this celebration is centered on. My body loosens and tightens at once when I see him, frowning as he enters the room.

The golden crown tipped with sharp points sits neatly on his head, held high, and does everything to enhance the power he carries with him. The lapels of his black velvet frock coat are glittering gold and the same goes for the gouges in his ears. Whoever his stylist is, they opted away from the family tradition for the sake of this night.

Silas entering the room was a breath of relief for those at his mercy. When Renit enters, they don't stare at the floor out of respect—but because of the fear they feel when they see him.

Those silver eyes go to me first, immediately, and I watch his chest rise and fall in a deep breath. Like the crowd did before, they bow their heads and everything, even the air, stops moving. When the corner of his mouth quirks into a smile at the sight of me standing there, I allow my eyes to drop back to the floor to show my respect.

The click of his boots on the floor takes me back to the first day I was here—when this all began. An intimidating, threatening click. But I don't hear that now. Instead, Renit is approaching—not the prince I've heard horror stories about. Renit. The man behind the monstrous flesh.

Renit stops feet from the dais and bows to his father. I've only ever seen him wear the crown that first day here and seeing it again, I expected to hate him as I did at the reminder of what he did to Arego and the people once so fortunate to be away from his father's clutches. But that doesn't happen. Instead, I smile at the gold rim pressed to his head. If only these people know how un-princely he acts.

Once he's bowed to his king and then his brother, he turns to me. With a callused, scarred hand, Renit ushers me forward to stand front and center with him and face the crowd. My legs are numb but they move—those words in his silver eyes whisper against the innermost thoughts swirling through me. It'll be over soon.

He takes in every detail, from the dagger earrings to the gold accents on my dress and the nuummite necklace hanging from my chest, same as his. It's our only sign of cooperation with each other and the sliver of opportunity that we might care—even if we do not express those words.

"Roux Aimrey, you were offered a position at court to not only be my Grounding but to be my wife," Renit begins. Just like the king, his voice sparks to life like a true leader. He has never looked at me this way before, there are decency and care in his eyes that makes me want to take a step back. Out of his reach and the possible warmth. I've longed for someone...something more than what I've been given. "If you accept, we will protect this kingdom. Together. With the power as ancient as witch's birth guiding us, we will always find a way to each other, in spirit and power."

He swallows as I raise my amber eyes slowly to meet his. But he doesn't stop. "It would be my honor to take your hand, a common girl in this kingdom, and show you what it's like to have a prince."

A common girl. That's all I really am to these people. I was the common girl lucky enough to be considered worth something but if it wasn't for my power, I would still be worth nothing. My worth is the same as crap on the street if I was still wearing the handwoven dresses my mother put together in the late-night hours. This finery blocks out who I really am to them.

"Will you, Roux, stay by my side until the end of our existence?" I come back to the world when Renit asks the question. I've blanked. I want to vomit; my throat is dry and my stomach is churning. His brows knit together, not in confusion but in sympathy. He knows more than anyone I don't want to do this and Renit is the first person to let me out of it so he has a chance of finding someone he can truly love.

The two of us...we're not meant to be one.

I ignore that and force my lips into a smile. "I will," I whisper. The words are only loud enough for the two of us to hear, it's the only promise that matters and Renit steps back to gather something from his father.

On a velvet pillow in his father's hands, a crown sits. A gold crown, not the simple circlet Hallie wore tonight but a crown a wink smaller than the one on Renit's head. Tears gather in my eyes as the prince takes the gentle piece into his grasp. The rounded peaks border on gold trim and encases three large opal gems in the center. Small, black rubies line the bottom of the crown, again wrapped around a simple gold trim.

I dip my head low and Renit places that weight on my head. I don't know who crafted the crown, whether Renit himself or Mani had some say in it. Both of them know how much I adore the last piece I have of my mother—and now it's a slap in the face to the king who killed her. Whenever I wear this crown, she—and my father—will be with me the entire way.

Renit steps back and takes my hand in his. He doesn't smile at the visible tears but he doesn't frown either as he brings up my hand to kiss the raw knuckles from all those days of training together. I realize I'm smiling. Not because I have to...but because of him. And it throws me off.

The king steps between us, wrapping us in his long arms. "May I present to you, prince Renit Marron and his betrothed, Roux Aimrey," he finishes.

The crowd erupts in cheers and hollers, chanting Renit's name and a few of my own, mixed in with the large whoops. Clapping sounds as close to thunder and the storm Renit has shaped day after day. This is a different storm, while I can try to quell the one releasing from Renit, I don't have a chance of stopping this one.

I scan those smiling faces. Forced smiles. The prince's engagement to a commoner is not their delight. Ridding the kingdom of me, at a slow pace, is now their goal. But my eyes find Celestine, hers glossed with tears, and I realize she's all that matters. She's the only one in this room I care to know and that will not change. All these people, they're just people. Celestine is blood.