After the formal introduction, Renit and I are swept out of the room to regain our ground before entering again—together. Out in the hall, I press my back against the cold stone and take a deep breath. It doesn't come. The only comfort is the solid ground underneath my feet and the distant rumbling of the celebration telling me I'm not actually there.

I swallow the dryness in my throat, to no avail, and squeeze my eyes shut just for a moment of reprieve. I can get through this, it's just one night. My entire life has been decided at eighteen but this is better than being slaughtered young. My parents are dead, my sister is still a threat to face pain as a consequence of my actions, and my betrothed will never see me as something he wants to be with.

This is fine. All of this is fine.

My chest tightens as I try to quell that fear but it slips. I don't want to be here. This crown on my head only makes things worse—although it is beautiful, my eternal doom is snaked in the design.

When my hands shake, I press them against the stone and my power slips off the tight leash to search through the ancient surface. I keep my sanity intact by the one thing I've always had—the power brewing in a witch.

Footsteps sound from around the corner and Renit appears, adjusting the lapels of his coat. "Are you ready?" He asks. Any softness from the formal ceremony is now gone, and he's back to the familiar, cold witch I've grown used to.

I nod, unable to form the words, and take his arm. He leads me back to the open doors of the Great Hall and we stroll through, mixing in with the crowd. I am thankful for the lack of a formal introduction for our second arrival. Now we're supposed to celebrate with these people and spend the night mingling, dancing, and eating.

Some congratulate us right away and I plaster that smile on my face. I look satisfied at Renit's side when really, I'm holding on to him tight so I don't collapse from my weak knees. Is the collar of my dress cutting into my throat? I pull on the fabric but the sense of pressure cutting off my airways remains.

I'm not allowed to think about the challenge because an already drunk man slurs his congratulations in our face before stumbling past to a woman looking all too embarrassed to be the center of his attention. His wife, then.

Renit is kind to the guests and asks many about their personal affairs. How does he know all these people? No one makes conversation with me but to Renit, they're cheerful as much as they can be with the cruel prince. It's not until we finally break away, close enough to the banquet table, that I allow my hand to slip from his arm and move towards the wine. I need something.

I take a chalice with a shaken hand and gulp down the bitter contents. Renit watches me cautiously. "Are you all right?" He asks and takes a chalice for himself.

"Fine," I respond quickly. Another chalice. I hate the taste of wine but this might be the only thing that gets me through the evening. Renit takes gentle sips from his own and with wide eyes, watches as I drink half of the second and take a shuddering breath.

My stomach tightens, a hint of the vomit to come. The sounds of the music and the voices turn muffled in my head, whether from the wine or because of my impending insanity threatening to tear me apart. My body breaks out in sweats and chills all at once and doom numbs me from head to toe.

Anyone that passes us bows and congratulates but I don't see their faces, nor do I hear their voices. They're blurred, every last one of them, and I'm thankful Renit does most of the talking while I stand at his side, slightly leaning against him so I don't topple over. I finish the third chalice of wine and move to grab another but Renit stops my hand with his own.

"I think you've had enough," he whispers.

Just the sight of his hand clamped around mine is enough for him to understand I'm as steady as a crumbling building. My tongue is thick, close to swelling, but I manage to say, "I'm going to get some fresh air."

I tear my hand from his and move through the crowd, dodging the many people desiring to speak to me about the kingdom's policies or whatever the hell might be important right now. None of their needs cater towards the fleeing girl. I keep my head down and avoid smiling at any of them because they don't care about me. The feeling is mutual.

Someone tries to block my way towards the open door but I shove past and into the safety of the quiet hall.

My body hugs tight to the stone wall and I'm moving, nearly running towards a balcony where the air is plentiful. There isn't enough inside the castle, all the air has been snuffed out and replaced with a stuffy substance that chokes instead. I run my hand along my thin throat.

The cold night air presses against my face as I step out onto one of those balconies, kneel, and vomit on the stone surface. With one hand braced on the cold banister, I empty the contents of my stomach and any bit of wine I choked down. And my head was just beginning to spin. My breathing is ragged as I kneel there, tucking my arms into myself. I allow the night air to chill me to the bone. Slowly, the sweat seeps away.

After what feels like an eternity of crouching there, I finally stand and allow myself to look out at the city beyond. Twinkling lights are the only sign of civilization in the obscurity beyond the bright castle littered with its own flame. I dip my head low and close my eyes—just for a moment. There's a breeze in the air, one that pushes back my hair like a gentle caress and cools the sweat there, too.

But the dread never disappears. My hands are still shaking. The quiet clicking of Renit's boots emerges when I finally catch my breath and he halts just short of the balcony. He's watching me, eyes on my back, and my hands grip onto the railing.

"I can't do this," I whisper. I don't care if he hears me or not.

"You need to go back in there," he demands, not at all kindly.

Even the courtyard underneath the banister is streaming with guests brave enough to face the chill. They laugh and dance to the distant music in the Great Hall.

"I can't," I say louder. My voice sounds so weak, so dry. "I can't do this...I can't—" I let out an annoyed whimper as it becomes difficult to breathe again. Even out in the open air, I can't find enough. And that sickens me to my core, roiling with nerves. My stomach ties into complicated knots.

Renit steps closer and takes my arm. "Roux, we don't have time for this, we have to get back in there." He turns me to face him and the weight of his hand loosens slightly, enough to soften the touch threatening to drag me back in there. "Are you sick?" I must look as bad as I feel, my skin must be as pale as the moon. Renit places the back of his hand on my forehead to feel for a fever. His touch is warm but I'm already on fire from the inside out.

"I want to go home." What am I saying? "I want to go back to Arego; I want to see my parents; I want to live a normal life." My entire body shivers and it's then Renit realizes something is very, very wrong. He moves towards me but I back out of his touch. "I don't want this. I don't want this crown." I rip it from my head and shove the crown back into his hands, where it never should have left.

My chest heaves and now I really can't find any air. I pull at the collar of my gown as it chokes me, all the way from my throat to my chest. Renit says my name but his voice is muffled against the music. I want to see my parents but they're dead—my parents are dead. I want to go home but that's gone too. Everything I've loved is gone and I don't stand a chance of enjoying this life when I'll be shackled to Renit for the rest of my existence.

He takes my hand as black spots fill my vision. I can't breathe. Quickly, he leads me through the halls until shoving me into one of the supply closets and shutting the door behind us. The only light is the small window in the door allowing the flickering light of the candle into a cramped space. If I couldn't breathe before then this will be even worse.

Renit sets the crown on one of the dusty shelves and takes my face in his hands. "Roux, look at me." He finds my wide-eyed gaze. "You're having a panic attack. Breathe."

"I can't," I croak. My throat is as dry as a desert and my tongue—

"Yes, you can. Just breathe. Look at me and breathe." He breathes with me, a deep inhale and then a shaken exhale. His hands rub up and down my arms, soothing me until the shaking stops and the shivering. The devastation is gone at once.

I keep my attention on bright silver eyes chocked with fear. He's scared.

"You'll be fine," he whispers, as though to not startle the curling beast inside me. "You don't have to wear this crown, you don't have to do anything you don't want to do. It's just you and me, okay? We'll get each other through the obstacles."

"But my parents; they're dead. My parents are dead." I grip onto his forearms and my nails dig into his wrists. I need something to hold on to, otherwise, I might slip entirely. "I'm only eighteen and my parents are dead and my life is already decided. You've lived three hundred years with as much freedom as you want and I...I don't get the chance to understand what freedom feels like."

Renit swallows. "I know." He intertwines his fingers with mine and I study the gold ring wrapped around his finger. If I wasn't so lost inside my own body, I would appreciate the fact he's wearing my initials against his skin—not because he has to, but because he wants to. There's a commitment he's making that not even Silas has done for Hallie. They can't stand to be around each other.

"You don't owe me anything and the same goes for my father. You still have your freedom, as much as you might think otherwise. But we must promise to always find a way back to each other because our powers stand against that." He takes my hand and places my palm flat against his heart. The beat is rapid underneath his coat. "This heart needs you. I need you."

That beat, I must keep it going. I can't let that light in him go out, no matter what he has lost or how much he might despise me in the back of his mind. He's just saying these things to make me feel better but it's working and I can breathe again.

Renit pulls me into him and wraps his arms around my ribs, squeezing tight. He buries his face in my neck and rocks us gently, back and forth, back and forth. I hold tight to the movement and thread my fingers into his hair as finally, I can take that much needed deep breath.

"You look beautiful tonight, spitfire," Renit whispers against my hair.

I smile, my chin resting against his shoulder. "You don't look too bad yourself, foolish prince." He pulls away from me with a lopsided grin and I run my hand down his abdomen, straightening his coat in the process.

"All you have to do is get through tonight. We'll dance and stuff our faces with dessert and then we'll go to bed and act like this never happened. Do you think you can do that?"

I take another deep breath to assure I actually can and then nod. We can do this. I can do this. If Renit is at my side, my anchor, I don't see why I can't do this. He takes my hand in his, intertwining our fingers, and peers out into the hall before taking the crown and placing it back on my head. The informal ceremony we needed.