2. Cecilia

2

CECILIA

C ecilia swallowed the Godsbane the same way she swallowed her contempt—reluctantly and with the vicious promise of vengeance in her eyes.

Godsbane itself tasted like weak earthy tea, but the feeling of being cut off from her magic made Cecilia feral with rage.

She slammed the empty glass down on the table by the fire. The guard was entirely unfazed by her tantrum, swiping it up and leaving her alone in her room.

Every day for the last month had been an echo of the one before it. She'd wake to cold, gray light streaming through the windows, dress in the heaviest clothing she could find in her closet, and then a guard would show up with her daily Godsbane. She'd ask to see Rainer and she'd be ignored.

Twice she'd managed to sneak out to help Xander escort servants beyond the castle walls. Twice she'd watched them flee to safety while she returned to the castle under cover of darkness with Xander by her side. Twice she'd been certain that the chill in her bones upon returning was not from the cold but from the fear of what could still happen to her within those castle walls.

Once again she was a prisoner in Castle Savero, confined to her sitting room, bedroom, and the few places she could reach via passageways that Vincent didn't know about.

She walked to the window and leaned her forehead against the cold glass. Her breath fogged the view of the city of Ardenis below, clearing for longer stretches as the panic settled to low-grade anxiety in her chest.

From what she could tell from the few conversations she'd been able to sneak in with Magdalena and Mika, most of Xander's allies had fled. The rest had stayed and were either loyal to Vincent, hedging to see who truly came out on top, or trapped by the fear of retaliation. It was an unbelievable mess that they'd only begun to sort through, and one made more difficult since Vincent had taken to parading Xander around like they were the best of friends. It was rare that Xander could escape to talk with her alone. It was also a blessing because it meant that he was always there when Vincent came to see her.

She pressed her hand to her sternum, sending a surge of peace through her bond with Rainer. She hadn't been permitted to see him for one month. One month . She hadn't been there when he woke up, and she was crawling out of her skin with worry. Missing him was one thing, especially when she could feel through their bond that he was okay, but she knew the sight of him would calm the riptide of dread and panic that pulled her under out of nowhere. He didn't know how to control what passed through their bond because he didn't know the bond existed. That meant Cecilia had spent the better part of a month getting hit with every bit of anxiety and frustration he felt.

The door to her room flew open, and Cecilia was instantly on her feet, brandishing a hairbrush in front of her like a dagger.

Vincent stalked into the room and chuckled. "Going to brush me to death?"

She gripped the handle until her knuckles turned white. She tried to settle herself with the weight of it in her hand, its smooth texture—anything to distract her from the fact that the man who attacked her was standing in front of her, close enough to strike again. She looked at the door, waiting for Xander to appear.

A moment passed but he didn't arrive. Instead, Grant walked in.

She stepped back instinctively. She hated Vincent for the joy he'd stolen from her. Touch had always grounded and calmed her. Once a lush landscape of desire, lust, and longing, Cecilia's body was now a wasteland. Everything warm had gone frigid. Everything that was once soothing was suddenly terrifying.

He'd infected her with fear. Now, where there had once been a seemingly endless reserve of courage, she found her fingers scratching at the bottom of an empty well. She could not force her body into action—could not fight off this new type of memory that lived in her bones and held her frozen in place when the waking nightmare took over.

"Calm down, Cecilia. I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to make a deal," Vincent said. He stepped toward her.

Her eyes darted wildly, looking for a weapon. Most objects she could use to defend herself had been removed from her room. Her gaze caught on her own wild eyes in the vanity mirror next to her. Her face was thinner, a clear sign of her lack of appetite from both fear and the effects of the Unsummoner bracelet. Shadows bloomed under her eyes from lack of sleep, and so full of fear, she looked like a stranger.

Think, Cece .

She could break the mirror and use a piece of glass in the worst-case scenario.

Cecilia shuffled closer to the vanity as she turned her attention back to Vincent. A smirk drew up the corners of his lips.

"I just said I'm not here to hurt you," he said as if reading her mind.

Cecilia gritted her teeth, trying to settle her nerves and stop her knees from shaking. "You'll have to forgive me if I don't believe you. What do you want?"

Vincent crossed the room, sitting on the edge of her bed. It was a power move—meant to intimidate her. She hated that it worked. The sight of him on the bed where she'd been struggling to sleep since he attacked her would give her fuel for her nightmares. She forced her body to face him squarely, her hips poised on the edge of the vanity, the brush still in her hand and ready to smash the mirror into shards if necessary.

"Rainer is safe and healthy. He's been taking it easy, but returned to full training today. Unfortunately, losing so many of his training memories has put him a little out of sync, but the muscle memory is all there. He will be back up to speed in no time. I'm sure you'll be thrilled to hear that he's terrible with a bow now. It seems he learned a lot from you."

It should have made her feel better, but the words filled her with grief.

Rainer's voice burned bright in her mind, a beacon that she needed to see in the dark. " Do you really think my heart could forget you when you've been wrapped around it for more than half my life? Do you think I wouldn't feel you the moment you're close to me? I could never forget you. You and me…we are infinite. "

Cecilia wished she shared Rainer's certainty. She thought of his face when he said those words. He had told her she could borrow his confidence if she didn't feel it because he was so certain he wouldn't forget her. She took a shaky breath.

Get it together, Cece , she scolded herself. This is not the time to fall apart. Rainer hasn't even seen you yet. He might remember you on sight. Just be patient for once.

"It appears that you did a sufficient job. He thinks that I'm king, and he hasn't asked for you once," Vincent said. He took obvious pleasure in the words that were like a knife in her side.

Cecilia had made a deal with Cato to remove herself from Rainer's brain and she'd done a good job of it. Still, some part of her hoped that even her memory witch and goddess powers weren't a match for his love. It was the stupid hope of a fairy-tale-obsessed girl, but she couldn't help it. There was so little going well, she couldn't stand to let go of it.

She placed the brush on the vanity and clasped her hands to keep them from shaking. She stroked her thumb slowly over her inner wrist.

"So, what more do you want from me?" Cecilia asked. "It's not like I can tell him anything. Cato made sure I couldn't."

Vincent sighed. "Yes, but I can't exactly have you running around without an explanation for your presence. Your bond is still intact, no?"

Dread pooled in Cecilia's stomach. "Yes."

"I assume he will feel it if he's around you, so I need to make sure that our good little soldier stays in line. You have two options. First, you can choose to be a traitor I keep chained in the tower until I need you."

The words were so heavy with innuendo Cecilia thought her knees would give out.

Vincent smiled at her horror. "Let me see it."

"See what?" she gasped.

"Let me see how you're healing," Vincent said, nodding to her leg.

Cecilia stood frozen, her chin jutting out in defiance even as it trembled. Her eyes snagged on Grant Marzen. Her father had taught her to know her enemy, and Grant had taken pleasure in holding her down so Vincent could slice up her leg.

In the past month, she'd learned a lot about Vincent's right-hand man. Grant was slightly shorter than Rainer, but equally broad, which meant he was still nearly a foot taller than her and close to double her weight. He preferred short swords and was formidable with them and with his fists. He had smooth, tan skin, pale blue eyes, and short, dark hair that he clearly wanted to seem effortless but was too perfectly tousled to be believable. He was handsome enough to get away with being mean his whole life.

A gentleman would have looked away. But Grant didn't even bother pretending not to look as Cecilia bunched her skirt and slowly drew it up. She was relieved at least that one of Magdalena's healers, Grace, had gone over the glamour on her thigh again this morning to make it appear almost healed. Beneath the glamour, her skin was smooth and perfectly healed, but Vincent didn't need to know that, and as long as he didn't touch it, he wouldn't.

She drew the skirt high enough that Vincent could see. He made to move closer, and she pushed herself back onto the vanity, clenching the brush defensively in her fist again.

Vincent chuckled. "You wear it well. What does my cousin think of it?"

Cecilia looked at the floor. She felt guilty for not telling Xander what had truly happened when Vincent attacked her, but every time she tried to speak about it, the words tangled between her brain and mouth. Living through the experience itself was isolating, but she felt just as isolated in the aftermath, as if the pain was trapped inside of her with no way out.

Since the attack, she'd been tended to by Xander's spy friend, Mika, and the castle healer, Magdalena. They both tried to get her to speak more, but the words slipped off the tip of her tongue and floated away like smoke on the breeze. Sharing her experience and how it affected her now seemed simultaneously like it would make her less alone and also like others' reactions would remind her just how solitary she was in her pain.

"Ah, you haven't let him see." Vincent clicked his tongue in mock disapproval. "And here I thought you were still so close. No wonder he looks so sullen all the time."

"You said there were two options, but you only mentioned one so far," she snapped. "What's the second option for me—the one that doesn't require being locked away in the tower?"

Vincent's grin grew wider. "You'll act as my fiancée. We'll formally announce our engagement soon and you'll help me interrogate Xander's men to figure out where his wife and spymaster are. I'm certain you'll be useful in ways I haven't even thought up yet. I'd prefer to keep you close to make sure you're following the rules. Plus, Cato's bargain has had some less-than-desirable limitations."

A surprised giggle burst from her lips, the tension in her body snapping at once. Cato was such an asshole, but at least he was equally horrible to everyone. She'd have to figure out exactly what that meant.

Vincent frowned. "As long as you do as you're told, you'll have my protection."

"And who will protect me from you?" Cecilia hated the way her voice shook when she said it. She wanted to be strong, but if he stayed in her room much longer, she would crumble.

"Cecilia, I'll admit I'm curious considering that performance you put on in the library, and the hold you seem to have on my cousin, who's never been one for monogamy. But if we're being honest, dallying with you would be purely for sport and the enjoyment of watching you break. You do make it fun and having you close makes it easier to manipulate both you and Xander. Long term, I'm much more interested in Lady Brett."

The words sharpened Cecilia's mind. He was testing her, waiting for a reaction to see if Sylvie was still close.

She wanted to threaten him with a slow, painful death if he touched Sylvie, but she had no weapon and no way of hurting him since he valued nothing but power. If Vincent even breathed in Sylvie's direction, Cecilia would rip him apart with her bare hands.

"Why are you like this?" The question slipped out unbidden, but she could not fathom how someone became so cruel.

"Why don't you ask Xander? Now what will it be?"

She hesitated. She wasn't sure what keeping her close would do for him.

Vincent sighed, waving his hand impatiently. "I see you turning this over in your mind. Remember, one of these options allows you to lay eyes on your precious guardian occasionally. The other keeps you locked away in the tower as an enemy of the kingdom for my personal use."

Cecilia swallowed the bile that crept up her throat. She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the memories that haunted her day and night. The violence had etched them into her mind in a constant, torturous cycle that she didn't need her power to summon. She longed for access to her memory witch powers so she could pull up any pleasant memory. She wanted to lose herself in the past so she could forget the horror of the present and the man sitting across from her.

"Take off the Unsummoner bracelet," she said.

"Cecilia, you're not in a position to bargain."

"It makes me sick to be cut off from my power. Xander's probably having the same issue. We'll both keep getting physically weaker."

Vincent shook his head. "No. You're both just foolish enough to think that you can overpower me. I don't trust you not to try something."

Cecilia clenched her fist around her hairbrush in frustration.

"You'll act as my fiancée in ceremony only," Vincent continued. "You'll stay in your own rooms when you're expected to. You'll be present at events and look pretty and assure everyone that things are running smoothly. When I choose to let you, you can forgo your daily Godsbane and use your goddess powers to help the kingdom and solidify my rule. As long as you behave, you'll be treated with respect."

Cecilia shook her head. "Will I truly be expected to marry you?"

"Eventually, yes."

She shuddered, spinning her engagement ring from Rainer around her finger—the same ring her father had given her mother. "What would be the point? It's not like I can give you heirs."

Vincent frowned.

"You didn't know." The surprise nearly knocked Cecilia over.

It was a day for ripping open old wounds. Though she'd grown used to tending to this one—going back to it whenever she needed to settle into her grief—ripping it open for someone who'd already taken so much from her felt especially sickening. A deep ache settled in her chest.

Vincent furrowed his brow. "Know what?"

She shouldn't have been surprised. Cato kept secrets when it suited him and he was the type to hold on to them until he ensured their reveal would have maximum impact.

"In order to access my full powers, I had to give up my ability to have children. The witches of Olney could see Cato coming. They knew he'd want to use the Lost Goddess to continue his lineage and create more gods, so they made it so he couldn't. They forced me to exchange my fertility for my goddess powers."

Vincent stared at her, the tic in his jaw the only sign of his frustration. He stood suddenly.

"Fuck!" he shouted as he closed the distance between them.

Cecilia slammed her brush into the mirror and grabbed the first large shard of glass as it shattered. It bit into her palm, but she thrust it out in front of her, warding him off.

He stopped short, watching the blood drip from her palm, down her wrist, and onto the floor. "Is that your decision?"

"Does that admission change your offer?" she countered.

Vincent scrubbed a hand through his dark hair, his gold-flecked onyx eyes sharpening on her. "No. It's a minor setback. We can figure out children. You'll just have to lay claim to them. Does this mean you'll choose the second option?" His gaze fell to her trembling, bloody hand.

"Yes. I'll play make-believe."

Vincent pursed his lips. "Very good. Grant, take her down to the healer."

Cecilia took a step back. Pieces of broken mirror crunched under her boots.

Vincent laughed. "I'll expect to see you out of this room and more active in everyday events from now on, dearest . I'll see you tonight."

Grant gestured toward the door, and Cecilia brushed by him, following Vincent into the hallway. She waited for Vincent to disappear around a corner before she let out a breath of relief.

Grant lingered. His hand clamped down on her arm and she fought not to scream. Suddenly she was back in the dining room, pinned helplessly to the table while Vincent carved his initials into her thigh.

Her head spun, and she barely caught herself on the wall.

"What's wrong with you?" Grant barked .

She spun, brandishing the shard of mirror at him. "Do not touch me."

His eyebrows shot up. "I've seen you eyeing me up."

She huffed out a breath and started down the stairs. "You never test your oatmeal before you take a huge mouthful in the morning. That's bold of you, considering how adept witches are with natural poisons."

Over her shoulder, she watched Grant blanch. Good, let him stress over his food . When her father taught her sleight of hand, he'd been adamant that it was really just the art of attention.

" People look where you look and they pay attention to the first place you touch, Cecilia. Make sure they're not looking where you'll actually strike, and play into their prejudices ," Leo had said.

She wanted Grant wearing himself down with worry about his meals until she decided how she'd take him out. He, like Vincent, thought that women were weak. She looked forward to teaching him how wrong he was.

They continued down the hall and a staircase leading into the corridor that led to the healer's suite.

"You put up a valiant effort, but you didn't stand a chance then, you know," Grant said. "You don't now, either. So whatever little idea you're thinking up, just forget it. Fall in line and I won't have to deliver any more punishments."

Cecilia spun on him. He was to Vincent what Evan was to Xander, she supposed, and in his own way he mirrored her friend. The serious set of his jaw; the assessing, narrowed eyes. Though that was where their similarities ended, because even when Evan hadn't liked her, he'd never been cruel.

"You touch me again and I will gut you," she gritted out. Her hand trembled, the glass cutting deeper into her palm as she squeezed.

"You need to understand that you aren't in charge. You won't be anytime soon and the only way forward is to fall in line and—" He reached for her and the second he moved, she plunged the glass into his neck.

She didn't even realize she'd done it until she felt his blood warm on her hand. The impulse had completely taken her over. For a moment her body was not her own. It belonged to the panic.

Grant's eyes went wide in shock as she pulled the shard out. Blood spurted from the wound and he pressed his hands to it to staunch the flow. He crumbled to his knees, looking at her in disbelief.

"I told you not to touch me," she rasped.

Grant's wide, pale eyes locked on hers.

"It's unpleasant to feel so helpless, isn't it?" she whispered.

Vincent had cracked her open, and it seemed all she had left was cruelty. Maybe his cruelty had festered in her over the past month. Before, she couldn't have imagined enjoying making someone feel as powerless as she had, but now she found she was shockingly comfortable with it.

"It's a shame I have this stupid bracelet on or I could fix you if you asked nicely," Cecilia quipped. "Perhaps someone will wander along and find you in time. Or perhaps if you scream, someone will hear you."

A choked gurgle bubbled from Grant. Cecilia turned and dashed down the hall into the healer's suite, torn between righteous anger and guilt.

Magdalena's jaw dropped when she saw the blood all over Cecilia.

"It's not mine," Cecilia started. "Well, most of it isn't."

"Whose is it?" Magdalena countered, waving over a healer from the other side of the room.

Cecilia looked down at the ground. "Grant's. He's dying in the hallway," she said casually, throwing the mirror shard into a washbasin and holding her bloody palm out to Magdalena.

Magdalena nodded at the young healer who was staring at Cecilia. "Grace, go fix him there and I'll have someone join you so you can bring him in here."

Grace nodded and rushed out into the hall.

Magdalena gestured to the cot, and Cecilia sat down on it. The healer pulled out some alcohol and cleaned the wound.

"What would possess you to do such a thing? Your position is very precarious," Magdalena said. Her voice was calm, but her face pinched in fear.

"He touched me. I reacted. I don't even really remember doing it. He grabbed my arm, and I was suddenly back in the dining room. It happened so fast," Cecilia whispered. Tears sprang to her eyes.

"Where was Xander?"

Cecilia shrugged. "I don't know. Vincent must have shaken him off. He offered me two options, and I don't think he wanted Xander's interference."

She explained the options as Magdalena's tingling healing power knitted her skin back together until there was no sign of injury.

"I'm sorry. I screwed up," Cecilia said, blinking away tears.

Magdalena cupped her face in her hands. "There, now, dear. It's all right. I should be able to wipe the memory from him so he doesn't remember what happened and we will put him to sleep, so he wakes up in his bed."

Cecilia nodded, but she couldn't stop shaking. "What's happening to me? Am I losing my mind?"

Magdalena shook her head. "No, it's just a reaction to the fear. We see it sometimes after an attack like yours—see it in some of the hunters after a bad battle as well. It will pass. Just try to take slower, deeper breaths."

Cecilia shook more violently, her breathing so shallow her vision turned spotty. No matter how she tried, she could not turn the tide of fear in her body.

Only a moment passed like that, with Cecilia certain she was dying, but it felt like an eternity before a gentle healing tingling wove through her. It soothed her heart to a slower rhythm, and she recognized it.

"You know Xander's soothing spell," Cecilia croaked.

Magdalena smiled. "I do. It's the only thing he's ever taught me, but he's good enough not to brag about it."

Cecilia calmed and turned her attention to a commotion on the other side of the room. While she was panicking, Grace and another healer must have brought Grant in. The two healers were bent over him, blocking Cecilia's view of his face.

Grace caught her looking. "He's going to be fine," she said. "Maybe a little weak and confused about what happened because we'll need to wipe the memory."

Magdalena nodded, turning back to look Cecilia over. "I will help once I'm finished here."

Cecilia dried her clammy hands on her dress, looking away from the healer's kind eyes. She knew what was coming. The same thing that she always asked when Cecilia had one of these episodes.

"Would you like to tell me about it?" Magdalena asked.

Cecilia shook her head.

As much as she wanted to speak it aloud to reclaim it and call back the power it held over her, the words for the pain vanished the moment they hit her tongue, leaving her with a mouth full of sighs.

"All right, well. I'll be here when you're ready."

Cecilia appreciated that there was no pressure to do it, but found comfort knowing someone was waiting for her to heal in her own time.