The Princess and the Warlock

Chapitre Trente

Freesia, after delivering her line full of heavy theatrics and weighted damnations, beat feet back to her own place of residence. Her farewell was short and sweet, ducking out from my bedroom.

Although, at the time, neither Kaius or I noticed. "I don't know why you're staring at me like that," I told him, my arms folded across my chest in a way that made me feel like a petulant child. "And don't you say, 'how am I staring at you?' You're looking at me like you've just stabbed me in the chest with a sword."

Kaius was standing at the foot of my bed with his own arms folded, his gaze on me one that was as firm as a piece of metal, unyielding to my words. "That was pretty specific," he answered, voice level and low. He was taking up most of the space for me to glare at, stance wide, as if he were facing down a dimkain or something equally vicious, equally lethal. He was regarding me. "I was, in fact, staring at the blood that's stained the front of your nightgown."

I didn't want to glance down at the fabric, to allow him to distract me, but my eyes had a mind of their own. Three splotches of blood blemished the gown, which was a feat within itself given how much blood I'd retched up. "Oh."

"Oh," he repeated, voice still muted. "However, don't you go getting any ideas."

I raised my eyebrows at him. "What?"

"I'm stopping the ritual, though I know you're going to tell me not to."

My arms unwound themselves as I leaned forward in the bed, narrowing my eyes at him. "The hell you are," I told him, immediately feeling strange for having sworn at him. I wasn't sure if I ever had before. Not in a tone that was so harsh, about something so important. His face didn't change its stony impassiveness, though I saw his eyes spark. "Look at me—I'm fine."

Kaius closed his eyes, speaking to the darkness behind his lids. "I wish you would stop saying that word. If 'fine' means 'having just vomited blood and being picked apart by magic' then I might need to update it in my vocabulary."

"Me throwing up blood has been the only side effect!" I practically shouted at him, though my words weren't necessarily true. That headache from earlier—I had it on pretty good authority that that was probably due to the sickness.

"Yes, because that isn't a big deal, is it?" he scoffed, finally dropping his poker face and looking at me like I was an idiot. "I can't tell if you're being serious or not."

I took the fabric of the blanket into my fists, feeling it straight against my nails. "Yes, I'm serious! You can't stop the spell just because of me."

"Oh, I can't?" he asked, leaning to brace his hands on the footboard of my bed. His fingers flexed over the wood, knuckles white from how tightly he was gripping it. "I'll allow you to descend into your own hole of madness so I can sidestep my own? Is that how you'd prefer it?"

Anger made my words harsh, for the tone he was using made me feel like I was back at the palace, underneath the hateful glare of my father. "I'd prefer that neither one of us would be affected, but I can't change the circumstances."

"No, you can't," Kaius jumped to say. "These are my consequences, Amora, not yours. What kind of person would I be if I allowed you to pay for my actions?"

I pushed the blankets off of my legs, practically flying to my feet. I was tired of hearing this tirade of his, allowing him to back himself into the 'bad-guy' corner. "Consequences, consequences. We all make mistakes!"

Kaius matched the pitch of my voice, shouting back, "And I will not let you answer for mine!"

"You're not even thinking about this!" I stomped my way to stand a few feet from him, not trusting myself to get closer. My hands, angry as they were, had a mind of their own. "I'm human. If I start to lose my faculties, at least I won't also possess the heightened power to turn everyone I know into frogs. Or, better yet, corpses."