Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
A plush blanket of snow covers the entire kingdom of Khalessor. Icicles hang from the eaves, glistening in the morning sun, while frozen windowpanes shimmer with the warm glow from within. I didn’t think the castle gardens could get any more beautiful, but I was wrong.
A snowball hits me in the shoulder, causing flecks of snow to spray on my face.
I laugh warmly, throwing a snowball back at Rowena.
She lets out a slight yelp of surprise before bursting with laughter.
We chase after one another, our boots crunching against the icy snow.
Rowena raises her hand into the air, flicking her wrist in a quick circle.
All the snow from the oak tree’s branches falls on me, burying me under the snow.
“Ro!” I cry out, wiggling as I try to unearth myself. The weight of the snow is immense, and I kick my feet out as I struggle to move.
A hand closes around mine as she pulls me free, snow clinging to my eyelashes and hair. My breath curls in the frigid air as I stand and try to brush myself off, piles of snow falling from my lap.
Rowena clutches her middle, doubled over in laughter. “Sorry, Rae.”
I giggle. “You win, okay?”
“I didn’t think it was going to be that much.” She wipes a stray tear from her lashes, unable to control her laughter.
“It’s all right,” I reassure her. Rowena is back to her usual self. She has fully recovered from her burnout, and that’s all that matters. “So you can wield ice?” I ask, brushing the snow from my cloak. I’ve been eager to hear more about her powers since the incident.
“Yes, but it's rare. When two Verthari with different powers have a child, sometimes their offspring possess the ability to combine both their powers. My dad is a water Verthari, and my mom is an air Verthari. So, I can wield ice,” Rowena tells me.
“That’s so interesting.”
“Some earth and fire babies can manipulate metals, while some fire and air users can use lightning,” Rowena explains. “But usually, the child will take after one or the other parent’s ability.”
We begin walking on the path back to the castle, my boots slipping several times on the ice. Rowena grabs hold of my arm, trying to steady me, but both of us end up fumbling around. I hold my arms aloft, wobbling until I find my footing. Our gazes meet, and we holler with even more laughter.
I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun.
“What about the other two…” I try to remember what Barnham told me. “Evokari and Remedari?” My growing curiosity gets the best of me.
“Those are just as rare.” Rowena doesn’t seem to mind filling me in.
“Rather than focusing on the elements, their magic focuses on the physical. They are kind of… counterparts, offshoots of one another. Evokari can manipulate things to their will, whereas Remedari bend themselves to get the desired result.”
“I see…” My mind drifts to Lunithia. “Is that how the King made the man you froze disappear?”
Rowena giggles. “You catch on quick, Rae. Yes, Wrath can make people disappear into nothingness. Evokari are known for being destructive,” she adds. “Most Remedari are healers, making them invaluable because they're scarce.”
“Fascinating,” I reply, walking under the large archway as we enter the castle.
Dropping Rowena’s arm, I push open the large wooden door for us to enter the castle. A rush of warm air greets us, a relief from the weather outside. I tap my boot against the ground, trying my best not to track snow through the halls before we walk.
“I love the cold.” She frowns. “I wish I could be back home in Myragos. The hot springs in the snow are the most divine experience.”
“You should go. I’m sure your father misses you,” I tell her as we stroll through the castle.
She shakes her head. “I cannot. If I travel home now, my mother will surely force me into an arrangement.”
“Ah, yes. The lovely Natalia Bainbridge.” A voice cuts into our conversation. “She is… a force.”
Glancing back, I see Barnham approaching us. He wears a long, thick coat with a fur-lined collar, brown trousers, and knee-high boots. His thick beard has grown fully for the winter, and he scratches at it absently as he yawns. I still want to know about the chunk missing from his ear.
“Hello, Barnham,” I greet him.
“You’re putting it lightly, cousin.” Rowena lets out a defeated huff. “My mother is a tyrant.”
“I was trying to be kind.” Barnham chuckles. “Raelys, the King wishes to see you.”
Dread fills me.
“All right,” I reply sweetly, trying to hide my apprehension.
“Chat soon, Rae.” Rowena waves goodbye and departs.
Barnham and I stroll down the corridor together. It completely slipped my mind that I agreed to help with my mother's journal. The days after the festival have been a blur of work and checking in on Rowena, my focus elsewhere.
“I saw you push Rowena out of the way in place of yourself,” Barnham finally says. “Although I don’t fully trust you, you have my thanks.”
“Are we turning over a new leaf, Barnham?” I tease, a smile forming on my lips.
“That’s a stretch.”
Barnham holds the door open, letting me step inside before he closes it again, sealing me in.
Wrath sits at the head of the table, eyes scanning over a letter as he reads.
As I take a few more steps into the room, his gaze lifts to mine, and I can immediately sense him growing weary from my appearance—disheveled once again.
“Raelys, why are you covered in snow?” he asks, exasperated.
It’s the first time I’ve seen him since the festival.
After what occurred on the balcony, I took different routes across the castle and spent more time in my room, successfully avoiding him until now.
Wrath doesn’t seem any different—back to his usual brazen self, which I suppose I should be grateful for.
“Rowena buried me with her magic.”
Wrath says nothing in return as he places my mother's journal on the surface for me. I put my right hand over the cover and try to remember the proper technique. Wrath steps behind me, pressing his palm against mine.
“You’re manipulating my magic with yours? Is that how it works?” I ask, closing my eyes as I try to steady my breath.
“Who told you that?”
“Rowena.”
“It’s more shaping… than manipulating.”
I stifle a laugh. “Isn’t that the same thing?”
“It’s the intention.” Wrath’s lips are above my ear. “Magic is fickle. Shaping is like guiding it. Manipulating is more of an attempt to control it, which it doesn’t like.”
“Okay. Shape, don’t take,” I repeat the mantra.
Drawing a deep breath, I feel the magic around me and try to shape it. Wrath’s magic feels different today—more consuming. It surges through me like a violent tide, swallowing my thoughts and breath until all that’s left is him.
I claim to loathe this man, but our intermingled magic says otherwise each time our skin touches.
No matter how much I try to resist, I react the same—skin flushed, racing pulse, breath hitching in my throat, and a deep need for release.
I’m too embarrassed to ask if Wrath also feels it, so I suffer in silence.
Lost in thought, I hit the ground, not realizing that I accidentally overcharged.
“You’re not listening to me.” Wrath’s tone is abrasive. “You have to focus.”
“I am focusing!” I huff as I stand.
“No, you’re not.” He narrows his gaze at me, adjusting his sleeves lower.
“Well, maybe if you weren’t standing so close—”
“Flustered, Princess?”
I roll my eyes, smacking my hand against the cover with a bit more attitude than I intended.
Pushing away all my conflicting emotions, I focus solely on the book.
Wrath’s steady breaths sync with mine as he floods me with his magic once more.
I close my eyes and inhale a deep breath, trying to source it from the earth around me, remembering how I felt when I touched the Eldertree.
I think I’m finally doing it right when a void opens up and swallows me whole.
Everything instantly turns black. I can’t tell if I’m floating or falling, caught in something untethered from reality.
The occasional jolt of pain strikes through my veins like tiny lightning bolts.
When I try to move, it only makes it worse, plunging me into a haze.
“Raelys.” I hear someone calling my name repeatedly. “Raelys!”
“Gods…” I murmur, still completely numb to my surroundings.
There’s something warm spreading across my skin, the center of my chest reverberating with a strange sensation. It feels like serenity, like safety, with a soft familiarity I can’t place. It almost feels like… home.
Am I dying?
My eyes crack open slowly as I groan. I try to take in my surroundings, but my vision blurs with painful streaks.
Every pulse in my veins causes an aching throb to shoot through my temples, making my head feel impossibly heavy.
Wrath studies me with a worried expression, searching my face for signs of life.
He has one hand pressed above my heart, the other cupping my cheek as he gently holds my head upright.
“Wrath?” I croak out.
“You’re okay.” His tone is so gentle that it takes me by surprise. “I’ve got you.”
“Did I die?”
“You hit burnout,” he replies. “That’s what it feels like.”
As I attempt to lift my head, the ground shifts beneath me, the world spinning in rapid circles. The dizziness makes my stomach flip as nausea coils in my gut. I blink to clear the fog from my vision, but it makes Wrath’s outline blur even more.
“Do you understand why I’m trying to fix this?” Wrath is nothing but anguish. “My people are suffering. This curse is torment and agony like you’ve never felt.”
I can’t figure out what’s up from down. My eyelids droop as I fade again, only somewhat attuned to my surroundings. Wrath easily hoists me into his arms, and I fold into him, unable to pull myself above the surface.
“Where are you taking me?”
“To your room so you can rest,” he replies coldly.
His heart beats steadily in his chest, anchoring me to this reality for a bit longer. Despite how safe I feel in his arms, I know it’s a farce, the magic playing tricks on me. But in this moment, I don’t want him to let go.
“You hate me,” I mumble, in a state of complete delirium. My head seeks comfort on Wrath’s shoulder. I wish I could keep my eyes open to look at him as he carries me down the hall, but they feel so heavy.
“You think I hate you?”
“Yes…” I flicker between consciousness and awake.
Because I can’t do anything.
My father's words echo in the back of my mind. All of his mistrust and lectures come flooding to the surface. I’m a liability.
It’s why I deserve to be locked up. It’s for the realm's good.
I only make things worse. All I do is leave a path of destruction and chaos in my wake, just as my father has always said.
“You make me feel many things. Hatred is not one of them,” Wrath says as I drift away.