Chapter 13
Cillian
Ceri stood there, the straps of her dress slashed and the bottom ripped to shreds.
Blood welled on her hand, and bruises peppered her arms while a few burn marks slashed her calves.
I was feeling . . . godwitches, I wasn’t sure what I was feeling, but whatever it was, my heart was going to burst. I could barely breathe as I stared at her, at the golden light that wrapped around her, at how effortlessly beautiful she was.
My throat grew tight, and I wanted to force it back open so I could breathe properly.
The floor put itself together like it hadn’t just split open, the room quiet and no longer shaking. The contestants all looked at each other, sharing glances I didn’t understand, silent conversations happening in silence. The crowns over their head dissipated like they’d never been there at all.
I didn’t have a chance to speak or move before the doors to the throne room burst open and townspeople rushed in from the other end of the room.
“Family members,” Morton said out the side of his mouth. They were invited to join with the contestants after the first trial ended. Everyone had someone. Except Ceri. Traveling to the castle and seeing Ceri like this would’ve sent her father over the edge, something nobody wanted.
She stood there, hands twisting together as she watched the other contestants reuniting with siblings, parents, and grandparents while she remained alone in the midst of it all.
Except she wasn’t alone. As long as I was alive, Ceri would never be alone.
Before I could think, I was on my feet, rushing down the stairs of the dais and running to her. Her eyes widened as I skidded to a stop in front of her, heart still feeling so tender and huge and out of place in my body. Like it didn’t belong.
“Cillian, are you okay?” she asked. “You look like you’ve been hit by a carriage.”
“Am I okay?” I took her hand, the touch sending lightning through me. It had been a long time since I’d felt anything from such a simple touch.
In fact, I remembered the last time I’d felt this much. Over a decade ago. Right before I’d been crowned High Prince of Fairwitch. I had been holding Ceri’s hand, intending to tell her the truth about my feelings.
“Cillian.” I was wrenched from that memory as she withdrew her hand from mine and put it against my forehead. “You’re hot.”
I shot her a smile. “Thank you.”
She rolled her eyes. “I meant your forehead. It’s burning up.”
“Stop worrying about me.” Around us, family members and friends reunited with their loved ones. Lila was in her betrothed’s arms, clutching him. “I’m more concerned about you.” I trailed a finger down her arm, and I didn’t miss the small shudder that ran through her.
Bruises dotted her skin. “I’m fine. Just took a little tumble down some stairs. It’s not anything to worry about.”
Her father would have a fit, but I didn’t think reminding her of that would be helpful in the moment, so I kept my mouth shut.
“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” She peered at me. “And why are your eyes so red? Are you sure you’re all right?”
No. Yes. Fuck, I had no clue. All I knew was that I had to do something with the emotions coursing through me, like if I didn’t act on them, they’d consume me.
I swept her up in my arms. A sharp exhale escaped her as her heavy bosom rose and fell with quick breaths. She pressed her palms against my chest, her brown eyes sparking with surprise. My throat opened, and I could breathe again with Ceri in my arms.
“Cillian?” she asked, voice so unsure, so confused.
I wasn’t confused at all. I knew exactly what I wanted in this moment. I squeezed her tighter against me, studying her round pink cheeks, her button nose, and those mahogany eyes, flecked with green. In this moment, I could handle these feelings. I didn’t entirely hate them. That was something.
Morton cleared his throat from the front of the room, still perched on the arm of my throne, and Ceri quickly shoved herself out of my arms.
“What has gotten into you?” she asked, a faint blush on her cheeks as she straightened her dress. I hadn’t made her blush in a long time, and it sent a thrill through me.
“Hey,” I said, voice low while Morton began talking. “Let’s go somewhere tonight. After your father is asleep.”
Like we used to before I became high prince.
She frowned, whispering back, “I can’t. My father is already going to be worried.”
My throat closed again, sweat breaking out across my forehead, and suddenly, all of this was too much.
My emotions were a wildfire, and the more I felt, the more they grew and spread.
“Right. Yes, I know that.” That had always been the problem.
Not Ceri’s father or the fact that she took care of him—but that I was the high prince and Ceri could never be my queen.
I stumbled slightly, dizzy and queasy and needing to get out of here. Ceri grabbed my arm, holding me steady.
“Prince Cillian,” Morton said with an edge to his voice.
I looked around, realizing everyone in the room was quiet and staring at me and Ceri.
“Would you like to share what’s so important that you’ve been chattering away to Miss Morgane instead of listening to me?”
Just like that, I was a schoolboy, back in class, passing notes to Ceri while she glared at me and mouthed, “Stop it.”
Ceri’s lips twitched while she tried her best to look contrite, one of her dimples peeking out.
I desperately wanted to trace it. Fuck, I needed to get a grip on myself.
As soon as this stupid announcement from Morton was finished, I’d get Fargus and be on my way to getting my tonic and ridding myself of all these godwitches-damned emotions.
Morton narrowed his gaze. “Is something funny, Miss Morgane?”
Ceri let out a snort and covered her mouth.
“No,” she said. “Please. Continue.”
Morton grunted. “The winner of today’s trial and the one who gets a coveted date tonight with Prince Cillian is Meera.”
It took a moment for the words to sink in. Date. Tonight? Meera. That was not part of the marriage trials book. No one told me I was going to have to court the contestants. Morton definitely left out the part where I’d be courting a fucking cat.
I turned to look at the black cat, who was licking her paw, not remotely excited that she’d won. That made two of us.
“Meera was the one holding the lantern of eternal light. It’s been buried in this castle for a long time, and she brought it back to us.”
Fuck me. Tonight was like the worst kind of whiplash.
Ceri nudged my ribs. “Looks like you have plans tonight after all. With one very charming cat.”
The glee in her voice made my frown deepen.
“I’m going to need a drink,” Marsten said with a sigh. “Who’s up for going to the local tavern?”
Everyone raised their hands . . . except Ceri, whose lips were pressed into a thin line.
I still remembered the first time I’d noticed her do this, when we were kids, after her sister had died.
Some of our schoolmates had invited us to sneak out of Fairwitch Isle with them, go to the cliffs, and swim in the ocean.
One minute Ceri had been by my side, and the next she was gone.
I’d found her in her dress shop, with her father, who was having yet another anxiety attack.
I didn’t have to ask why she’d left. I knew that she wouldn’t leave her father to do something reckless.
So I’d stayed with her, played word games with her and her father. Then I’d kept doing it.
Every time Ceri said no to an invitation, I said no too. And I’d never once regretted it. I couldn’t stand seeing her sad, seeing the way she stared longingly at our schoolmates during class, the way she’d look away when they shared inside jokes that she didn’t understand.
All these years later and she was still doing it.
“Ceri?” Marsten asked. “You coming with us?”
She swallowed thickly and shook her head, pasting a smile on, one that I knew was fake because it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m too tired. Maybe next time.”
Morton flapped his wings. “You do know I wasn’t finished with my announcements, right? If you’re done making drinking plans, someone still has to be eliminated from the competition.”
Lila pressed her hands together as if in prayer to Fairwitch. I was also praying to Fairwitch that she’d be eliminated. I couldn’t handle her bursting into tears every time I spoke to her anymore.
“Liadan, you are eliminated,” Morton said in a somber tone.
The woman with the gap teeth didn’t look remotely sad either. Here I was thinking I was a prize, and yet no one else seemed to think so.
“Well.” I clapped my hands, ready to ditch the cat and get out of here. “Thank you everyone for a successful—”
I didn’t get to finish my sentence.
Golden magic began swirling around Liadan, so fast it looked like a cyclone. Everyone stared, no one sure what was happening, myself included. Her parents backed away, her mother letting out a cry as her father reached for her.
Glitter and swirls moved dizzyingly fast as we all watched, unable to look away.
Liadan’s scream echoed from inside the cyclone of magic. “What’s happening to me?” she cried out.
Ceri had stepped forward, her hand over her mouth as she stared in horror. I wanted to reach for her again, to tell her it would be okay, but I couldn’t make a promise like that when I had no idea what was happening.
“Somebody help her!” Marsten yelled.
But none of us knew what to do. My jaw clenched.
I was the high prince, and this castle and its magic were my responsibility.
I began moving toward the cyclone. I heard Ceri whisper-yell my name behind me, but I ignored her, moving toward Liadan, wondering if I could reach through those golden swirls and yank her out.
Wind brushed my face as I approached the magic, and I reached out to grab Liadan. “Take my hand!” I yelled.
Her own hand shot out, clasping mine. I had her. I could save her. For once I wasn’t just a puppet for Castle to toy with. I could fight against its magic and win.
“Hold tight!” I tugged her hard, but at that moment, the wind died down, the golden magic disappearing, and I glanced down to see my hand grasping nothing but thin air.