Another full day passes before I'm back on my feet. In those excruciating hours, my body fights off the fever and another bout of bone-stiffening chills. Through it all, I moan and groan, rocking myself as the entirety of my guests wait for the symptoms to pass. Celestine being the most nervous, she has brought back more than one of my mother's remedies for treating fevers and chills.
I want to die. I want to curl into a ball and die. Renit did this to me, he is the prince who forced his power into my body so I could learn to understand it. And all because he's the king's weapon.
In those long hours without sleep, the hatred simmers off of me like a hot knife. I don't want his comfort anymore, no matter how many times he tries—and fails—to provide it. He's just as irritated as I am and the two of us together, clashing with our strong personalities, is a match for the ages. The cruel prince and his even crueler bride; glory of the kingdom and all it's worth.
Citizens of this kingdom shake in their boots at the thought of Renit somehow becoming king. Silas is their future and if anything happens to their future, the weakest mortal and the strongest immortal, clashing as one to take down the castle. Success is inevitable.
Those are the thoughts pulling me away from insanity as I wait out the magic settling inside me. With the Grounding, I do not develop Renit's power as my own but I learn to control it. When the storm becomes too heavy for him and threatens to take over, I am the one to stop that burden and bring him back. Renit won't be able to do that himself in an Outburst so I will.
All of this pain for that foolish ability. All because the king needs his weapon to be sharp. Renit isn't allowed to make such crucial mistakes, the line is already stretched so thin, especially when the kingdom is starting to understand the rebel movements taking place somewhere in this land—against their ruthless king. I've heard the rumors, as has Renit, and that is what he is training for. He will find them and ignite the storm to kill them all, in their hiding spots.
The king won't do it himself and since Silas is too important to waste against a well-placed dagger, Renit is the chosen prince for this task. A second thought to the man on the throne, hardly anything more than what his mother must have thought of him. The topic of her has not risen, not with either of the princes, like she too, is more of a second thought.
With his soldiers, the many he commands, he will find those rebels threatening to take the crown and the king himself. Everyone has assured the rumors are play to sir the royal family and the supporters but I've seen rebels work. I've seen them grow in Arego before my father snuffed them out with threats of security.
If anyone in Arego wanted to start a rebellion against the king, my father did not allow it. Those days were always the worst; my father brought me along with him to banish one of the citizens or multiple. They were becoming too difficult to deal with and my father had no other choice but to send them on their way, back from where they came.
At the sight of me, many rebels obeyed right away. Whispers of my power had spread and who knew what they had heard, truth lost in translation. My lack of control matched me step for step and if they wanted to find themselves in serious danger, fighting back was their best option. Only a few did, and that was when my father instructed me to unleash myself at the mercy of others. Often, I took an entire building down with me.
None of the destruction was ever my fault. The blame belonged to them because they started the rebel cause. My father let me believe that for years until I realized I was the one accidentally ending those lives. Guilt as heavy as thunderclouds weighed down on me. I understood the ease behind wasting an immortal life and how that matched ending one without caring. A hole opened inside of me and with a gaping crack, a break in the foundation, snuffing out my power became so much easier.
After that, no one called on me again. I was still their weapon in case of invasion but when that happened and the prince took us down with his small crew of soldiers; I was of no use. My father didn't want to bring that use to life, and it led me here, to their death and to my understanding of the power curled up in a cell inside of my magic reserve. And to think my father will never get to see my strength.
We are one step closer. I am officially the Grounding of the prince of Esaria, of the weapon crafted to take down enemies without a second thought. A prince of over three hundred years with a backstory I have yet to discover but of one I want to understand. After our month together, bickering and picking at each other to the very end, I think I'm understanding him.
We found each other at a painful time. My power was losing all control and my chances of ever discovering the true extent of my strength were little to none. No one wanted to know. At the same time, Renit was mourning another year without someone he loved. I don't know who that person is and how to comfort him but when the time is right for him to tell me, then he will. For that, I have to be patient.
It's not until I wake from another bout of chills, alone on the chaise and curled into the smallest ball possible, that I can see again. The clarity in my head tells me the Grounding process is over and accepted into my magic arsenal. My use will finally come into play.
I am not useless. Not in his eyes and not in my own. I am the witch of ground, one who fought every day to survive this process and ate the meals Renit shoved into my hands, even after vomiting up the food minutes later. Renit nearly killed me, more than once, but I can say now—this was worth it. The aching muscles, the freedom, the understanding of what I've grown to be. All because of the scowling prince sitting at his desk, reading over bits of information I will never see. His private life is his own.
At the sound of me shifting with a groan, he barely turns to acknowledge I'm awake. The worst has come to pass, my fevers and chills are gone. It's over. The process is over.
"How do you feel?" He asks.
"Better, I think it's over," I say, standing to shift the nightgown twisted around my abdomen.
His pen scratches over the piece of paper before moving onto another in the stack. Something for his soldiers, no doubt. "Good, it's over. You have kitchen duty this morning and after that, we'll have our first official training session."
That's it, then. Not a single day to recover or eat a full meal without vomiting. He wants me back to work and then to train. As if it will kill him to waste another second waiting on me. Typical. Silent hate radiates off of him and there is no breaking through, I realize, as I gather my things, the bits of clothes I stripped off over these past two days, and shuffle back into my chambers.
I take a warm bath and clean myself twice, scrubbing out the sweat and the scent of Renit from my body. I don't want to smell him anymore after the way he clung to me to stop the chills. The things we had to do...I'm not ready to think about. Not when there is so much to discuss. Like the training, where we'll be closer than ever.
Renit doesn't usher me to move faster, my haven for the day, but I'm relieved to go back to the kitchens where I'm useful. And the duty doesn't stop until Renit wills it; until my betrothed decides that I am worth something other than being such. He still wants me to believe he thinks of me as a failure but I know that is not true.
There is a change in him, a softer tone and an easier smile—when there is one. Although rare, the sight of it is legendary. As I make my way down to the kitchens, I think of that smile and all that could be.