“I just needed a break.”
“You haven’t even done anything,” he pointed out.
Did he really need to remind her how utterly useless she was? Maybe she should just leave, and tell him she was done with these private lessons. He clearly had no actual interest in teaching her.
“Well…” she began, her whole demeanor deflated. She didn’t have a fight within her. What would be the point? It wouldn’t change anything. She would still be the same powerless woman. Angering him wouldn’t help. “I just don’t know what to do.”
It hurt to say the words out loud, to admit that no matter how many books she read or how many attempts she made, she had no idea what to do to fix this.
For so long, she had considered that maybe there were no powers brimming beneath her skin. That she was utterly empty of the magic of the court. It was rare, but not impossible. But one day, she had felt the spark of it. It was barely there, just enough to notice. Her mother was having a day of clarity. They both were out in the woods picking berries when a bird flew down and snatched the red fruit from Kamine’s fingers. Right as Kamine and her mother laughed, the faintest shudder rocked through Kamine. Kamine recognized it for what it was immediately.
“Lift the rock,” he said simply.
“Clearly, I can’t,” she replied, deadpan. She had no idea why he thought commanding her around would be the solution.
“Try again.”
She closed her eyes, wanting to be in her bed instead. Away from him, away from facing her incompetence.
“Try again,” he said, more forcefully this time.
She grit her teeth. “What’s the point? You aren’t even helping.”
“Try again,” he demanded.
“Why do you even care?”
“Fucking try again!” he yelled. The sound reverberated, and it startled her, how much his own voice was tinged with pain, almost like he was begging. He heaved, his chest rising and falling deeply, as if it took him great effort.
Fine then. She rolled her shoulders and neck. Outstretching her arms, she thought about the rock landing into her palm. She flicked her finger up, and up, and up. She felt nothing. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, because she was so tired of failing.
Footsteps inched closer, and closer. She ignored how she could practically feel his presence, feel exactly where he stood in relation to her.
From behind her, he touched her shoulders, and dragged his hands to her elbows. His chest was on her back and his breath hot on her neck.
“Relax,” he said, soothingly. He brought her arms down, and she willingly let him maneuver her body.
He tugged on her wild, curly hair. Her neck craned backwards.
“Allow yourself to breathe,” he said, against her neck. Goosebumps freckled her skin.
Kamine released a deep breath. She had no idea what was happening, but she could already tell this wouldn’t work. Relaxing and breathing were horrible advice. She was trying to move a fucking rock, not sleep.
“Stop fucking thinking,” he demanded. His grip was tight on her waist, holding her still as she tried to pull away.
“I don’t understand how any of this is helpful.”
“You don’t have to understand. Just do as I say.”
“It’s not working.”
“Because you’re thinking.”
“That’s what a person with a brain does, they think.”
He sighed deeply, and let her go. She turned to him, and they were so close she could see his black eyes and the white veins scattered through them, like they were made of marble. “You need to trust me for this to work.”
Her mouth gaped open, but she shut it closed so hard that her teeth clanged together. “Trust? You assaulted me on my first day of class, how could I trust you?”
