Light streams in from the windows in Renit's chambers and I look down onto the floor to see clothes streamed over the wooden boards and onto the desk. But none of them belong to me, we pulled them from the armoire last night; that much I can remember. The daggers are still in their holds against the door, luckily, as we didn't find it in ourselves to go on a stabbing spree. Things might have gotten out of hand if we took those daggers out to play with them.

I'm laying on my stomach and there's something warm pressed against my back. I turn around as much as I can, enough to make my head spin, and there is Renit...cuddling with my ass. He wears not only his crown but my own on top of his head. His shirt is gone and so are his boots—the only thing left being his pants.

"Renit," I groan. He doesn't shift. I reach back, straining, and shove my hand against the side of his face. He snorts himself awake, blinking wildly, and takes in the room. The first thing he sees, of course, is the ass he was cuddling with and he slowly rises, wiping the drool from the corner of his mouth as he does so.

"Why was I cuddling with your butt?" He slurs.

That is one question I cannot answer, along with the many pertaining to last night. It was a night to remember and yet, I can hardly place anything. Flashes of faces, of desserts, wine, and Renit. Laughter against my neck, lips kissing their way behind my ear...it's all a blur.

From the indistinct memories, I can recall the night went smoothly. Renit and I danced, our only moment of close attention to the crowd as we stood alone on the dance floor and displayed the moves we practiced time and time again. With everyone watching, there was a different twitch in the air, which made the dance actually mean something compared to when we practiced.

After our formal dance, the celebration shifted as the music turned upbeat and it was time for all the drunks—including Silas—to lose themselves in the music and their partners. I've never laughed so hard in my life, to the point I nearly vomited into someone's discarded ankle boot. Song after song, our boots slammed against the marble floors as we spun together and laughed, the music a ploy for our escape. At one point, I abandoned my shoes and twisted around the Great Hall on my bare feet. The cold marble seeped into my toes.

I don't have time to answer Renit's question and neither does he as the vomit hits us at once. We slide from the bed, stumbling into the bathing room, where I vomit in the toilet and he takes the nearby trash bin. Everything hurts. My entire body aches, my head is pounding, and all I want to do is empty my stomach.

Renit groans from where he slouches against the tub, his muscled arms wrapped around the trash bin. My throat burns but I look back at him, at the tousled hair and black-rimmed eyes. The imprint of one of my lace flowers is on his cheek, traced in red lines and indentions. It wraps through his messy brow and into his hairline. I find it in myself to laugh before vomiting again, as Renit does the same.

Last night, we drank and stuffed our faces to the point we couldn't walk, even Celestine, who hung over Silas at one point during the night before he took her back up to her chambers so no one would think of taking advantage. To say he took longer than he should is an understatement but I was too busy forcing Renit to eat chocolate truffle after chocolate truffle to care. And the chugging of wine had been a treat to watch. As they are three hundred years old, the princes can drink much more than myself.

After our fourth chalice of wine, I remember little. Just Renit and his smiling face and at some point, spinning in his arms and laughing hysterically until we fell, crashing into another group of dancers on the wide space of open floor. I wasn't allowed to drink in Arego but in that celebration; I let myself go for once. Everyone did. At the end of the night, Hallie ended up with Silas, a testament to their engagement and Renit and I were the last ones to stumble out of the Great Hall. It wasn't because we didn't want to leave but simply because we couldn't, everyone wanted a chance to talk to us before they were sent back off to their chambers for the night.

Some were drunk, others were not. By the time I had too much wine, I stopped caring about who showed up and who didn't.

The king had gone long before—had dismissed himself quietly to the guests and found his way back to his chambers with a lonely witch for the night. He doesn't have an official mistress but takes plenty seeking him out in secret.

As for Renit, he remained by my side the entire night. While under the influence of that strong wine, we thanked our guests for coming, gave them sloppy handshakes, and moved back to the dance floor. We finally forgot to care about what these people were doing here and why they were here to judge us. The weight of the crown became as light as a feather and as Silas swept me away in a complicated dance meant only for those sober, I had to keep hold of it so the fragile gold didn't sweep itself off my head.

I remember crashing into Renit's bed and giggling like a little girl as he stumbled into the room with a bottle of wine in his hand. It took all but a few moments for him to strip down into nothing but his pants and I was still aware—and sane enough—to keep my clothes on, even if the early morning hours were somehow hot.

The hours before we passed out were filled with that bottle of wine, laughter, and then, sleep. And now, my head pounds as I vomit into the toilet again.

"We should not have done that," I echo into the bowl.

"You made me do it," Renit snaps.

I whirl to look at him and he frowns, eyes heavy. "I did no such thing, you went to the wine first!" With the strain of my words, the room spins. The light streaming in from the window isn't helping either, the velvet curtains are pulled to the side.

Renit shakes his head with a wince. "No, I recall a specific someone daring me to chug three chalices at once. This is your fault." He vomits again and his back arches with the painful heave. Just the sight of it alone makes me churn my guts again. Don't look.

"And then you made me do the same thing right after. This is both of our faults." I slouch onto the floor in my gown and wish more than anything to peel it off. Why are his chambers so hot? He's lucky, most of his clothes are discarded. Me, on the other hand, this ensemble is a maze to get out of. "It's all a blur."

"Did we...dance?" He scrunches up his face.

I nod and rub my forehead at the same time. "We danced, sang, ate all the desserts, drank all the wine, and came back here—from what I remember."

"We didn't do anything, did we?" His eyes dart to me and back to the trash bin.

Aside from kissing my neck, no. In that drunken part of the night, it had just been because he wanted to see what it was like: his words. Before he could get too far, Silas pulled him away into another complicated dance. Instead of telling him that, I say, "Not that I remember." If Silas hadn't interfered, I don't know how far we might have gone together.

He sighs, "Good."

I force myself not to take that as an insult. With an unsteady hand, sticky with wine, I run my fingers through my knotted hair. Both of our crowns still sit on top of his head and mine interlaces with his enough to make it look purposeful.

Once the vomit wears off and we can finally see straight without feeling the pain of turning our head, I remember our talk in the supply closet. He was the one that got me through that panic attack, even when I didn't know I was having one. If he hadn't been there, it's possible I could have passed out and made an entire scene.

In the end, I had, but the thought of my dead parents nearly dragged me away. Even after two months, everything my changed so fast—my home, my power, my family, and my friends. My life has made a complete turnaround, and that's a lot to take in, especially on the night I become a new face in the kingdom. Everyone will recognize me now; my face will be plastered in the minds of those that came here to celebrate us.

Back in his chambers, Renit runs a hand through his hair. It's time for me to go back to my own and take a bath to remove the stench of wine and peel myself out of this gown. "Thank you for being there last night," I tell him. I lean against the doorway, his back to me. His hand slows as he gathers the pieces of clothing strewed about.

"There's nothing to thank," he mumbles.

"No, there is. If you weren't there, I might have...who knows what could have happened."

He nods but doesn't turn to face me. The muscles in his back tense as he throws a pile of clothes over his shoulder and carries it back to the armoire.

"I've never had a panic attack before, it came so suddenly. And the things you said about needing me, it—"

He turns quickly to face me, a hand in the air. "I said those things because you were panicking. Give it a rest, it meant nothing." His eyes darken as he turns back to the armoire and hangs up the shirts.

I figured he back out of the things he said but shearing his retorts is still a slap to the face. "You don't have to be embarrassed, you were helping me," I defend.

"Roux, stop. None of the words I said were true, I had to say those things at the ceremony and in the closet because we couldn't afford for you to make a scene. So...end it." Although he keeps his back to me, I already know that familiar, angered expression all too well. He hides it from me, I know it's there, like all those days I failed in training. This is nothing new.

"So you don't need me?" I ask quietly. I woke this morning with a brutal headache but those words had rung true. The pain I was in didn't matter because we drank too much wine and shared memories of laughter. None of that mattered, all that I thought about was those words.

This heart needs you. I need you.

If he really was saying those things to bring back my sanity, and they weren't true...I drag my tongue over the inside of my lip as he turns to face me. As I predicted, he's annoyed. I can't do anything right, no matter how many times I've tried to please him or thank him for something—my actions come back to bite me. I can't win.

"I need you for my power, that's it. We won't have training today but be ready for tomorrow. We will figure out this Grounding once and for all." He turns back to his wardrobe. Those words are as formal as a trainer to his student. When he realizes I'm still standing there, he slams the armoire door. I jump. "Leave. I have to clean this place up and prepare myself for the day."

Irritation rises quickly inside me and before I can scream at him, I open the door and slam it behind me, out in the hall. After the celebration last night, the halls are still quiet and mostly everyone is sleeping. I know that isn't the case for the workers but at least today they will have a lighter load with the crowd. I never spotted Dalis or Mills at the celebration, they were likely providing the delicious desserts and small sandwiches meant to be held between two fingers.

The halls down the stairway are quiet. I slump into my chambers, greeted by the silence. Before I can even consider taking a bath, I collapse onto the bed and curl myself into a ball. After all this time, I thought I had broken through Renit's walls. Last night—I considered that to be the breakthrough. Like all the times before, I was wrong.

It's the last thing I think about as I drift off to sleep, curled up at the bottom of my bed. I don't wake until afternoon and someone came in to pull the curtains over the window. Likely the servants as they have to complete their rounds every day. At least I think it's them until I hear someone clear their throat across the room.

I look up, expecting to see a tired, apologetic Renit or Celestine but Silas is lounging in my chaise, his arms propped behind his head. His grin leaves me confused.