Grounding the Storm ✓

Chapter 49

I place two sets of clothes into a satchel along with Renit's dagger he left on my bedside table. In terms of my belongings, there isn't much else I can bring, a book perhaps—one I never got the chance to start. My satchel feels too light; after two months here, I only have extra clothes and boots.

I take two extra pairs as well to throw in the saddlebags for later, just in case the laced pair I'm wearing decides that it doesn't want to hold up for longer than what it takes to get to Fosux and back. One can never be too careful.

Taking one last look around my chambers, I find nothing else worth taking. Fine fabrics provided by Mani will only weigh me down, despite how he might want me to look fabulous on such a journey. I am to represent my kingdom, my prince, and the king himself with this mission. I might as well look good doing it.

That is why Mani stuffed me in training clothes, mainly leather, from my neck to my toes. Black with gold accents and the royal seal over my heart matched with buckles for weapons and straps for arrows and a bow across my back. But I won't be using those as no one is providing them to me.

The matching leather jacket won't be adorned as the sun is high and going down a trail in the heat will be hard enough in this training armor that I won't use for training. It's a statement piece, I am their princess and now they must dress me the same way they would the prince or Hallie. Instead of going on a mission to investigate those at Fosux, I feel ready for a battle.

Renit politely knocks on my door as I sling the satchel over my shoulder. The heavy weight of the dagger on the inside is one I hope he doesn't notice. He left that dagger here, gently resting on the corner of my bedside table; the tip pointed towards the hallway leading to his door. A message that if I needed to go to him, then I could—after those visible wounds.

I think about the progress we've made, transpiring from barging into my room to gently knocking. How long will that last? Opening the door, I see he's dressed the same as me—in fitting pants and a black shirt. Yet he opted for the leather jacket. I frown at the realization that he's not wearing any armor. But even the satchel slung over our shoulders is the same so there's no shame in not dressing exactly like each other.

"Looks like you're ready," he suggests.

"The satchel is the last piece to the ensemble," I sigh, stepping past him into the hall. My hand wants to remain on the knob. Knowing I might not come back is enough to make me want to stay. Renit has left before, sometimes for years at a time to fight in a battle belonging to his father. This is no different. To him, this is a small trip and back. I've been nowhere other than Arego and a prison wagon so this is my first free journey.

Side by side, the halls close in around us. "Mills and Dalis packed food for the journey, it's already in the saddlebags on both the horses," Renit notifies. He's always hated small talk.

"Sounds great." I keep my stare straight ahead, even as he turns to me. He studies the side of my face for a moment and I know that look—the hint of softness before it turns back to cold eyes and a frown. I don't have to look to know anymore.

He takes my short statements as the desire for silence. The doors to the castle are already open, revealing the damaged courtyard. My steps slow as I take in the disheveled stone, the chunks of dirt thrown this way and that—like bombs were dropped on the surface. Craters bigger than our house in Arego take up the majority of the space, filling from left to right.

I completely ruined this place. There's hardly anything left of it except for the pasture beyond the stables and a small chunk of the gardens. Every witch of that power is trying to repair what pieces can be saved. The servants work tirelessly to pave new stone and build new planters with what they have. Guilt twists my guts.

"Although they've never dealt with a repair this big, they'll be fine," Renit reassures. "They usually get a day off after repairs so they're excited." He places his hand on the small of my back and ushers me forward, towards the stables.

I walk carefully over those craters and the chunks of rock slipping underneath my boots. Everyone is looking at me, at least it feels that way. They're scolding me for what I did. When I look behind, not a single pair of eyes is staring daggers into my back. No, it's all my guilt swarming inside of me like bees.

Two horses with solid black coats are saddled and waiting for us. Their chest plates are gold swimming in the silvers of the emblem. Celestine stands at their side, her hands folded over her front and when she sees us approaching, she forces herself to smile but I know she fears what is to come. I'll be gone and no one will protect her from the horrors of the king.

I paid Dalis a few gold coins to watch over her while I'm gone—a sum the kitchen servant happily took and said she could finally buy herself a bounty of clothes and boots for herself. I have never seen such excitement in her calm features.

Celestine wraps me in an embrace and for the last time, I breathe in the scent of flowers and fresh, summer grass. Her scent varies by season—in autumn, she'll be a crisp shade of rain and pumpkin.

"I'm sorry I won't be here for your birthday," I say by way of greeting.

She shrugs. "It's not that important. I think Hallie has something planned, a dinner, I think." Out of the nerves she feels, she shrugs again. There's nothing else for her to do. "I'll make the most of it and tell you all about it when you get back."

When. My mind screams, if.

Renit mounts and takes the black leather reins in his hands. He doesn't rush us or watch as we share our final moment together; he had one with Silas's body—dead or alive. No one has shared news with me, they want to keep his condition private, so I've stopped asking. Silence shared with Renit locks me out of the loop for most things and if he wanted my forgiveness, jumping to the answer of Silas's condition is one way to get me back on his side.

"I'll try to write letters, depending on how long we're there. Don't wrap yourself too tightly in work, all right?" I blink back my own tears at the same time she does.

She swallows. "Don't tear each other apart while you're away. I want you both back in one piece and talking to each other again." She squeezes my shoulders with small hands that have done more right than wrong.

I look back at Renit and he nods, a silent promise to protect each other from any harm in Fosux. If there's a rebellion, we have to. Not a single prisoner wishes the prince there, especially the one known for his power and extreme loyalty to his father. Renit is as good a target as any.

Celestine steps back after one last quick embrace and allows me to sling the satchel over my saddle. My black horse remains steady as I climb into the saddle with shaken arms but once I'm on top, I feel ready for anything. Freedom, I remind myself. This is the first time I'll experience true freedom.

My sister takes my hand and squeezes tight. "Be careful. Watch for danger," she orders. The tears are gone, and she's replaced by my mother, warning me to be careful on the cliff sides so I don't slip and fall. It was always the last thing she said before I left with Bren. My heart aches for both of my lost loves, my mother and Bren, my best friend.

I swallow the lump in my throat. "You too."

She steps back and Renit gives her one final nod of farewell before steering his horse in the right direction. I do the same, shakily, and don't turn back as we make our way through the ruined courtyard and the trail beyond. All the while, I bite back tears threatening to fall. For my sister, for my parents, for Silas, for Bren—for everything I've left behind.