Page 15 of The Kingdom's Reckoning
"Atrade?" Dani asked, incredulous. "What could Domitius have that he would willingly give up?"
Kalisandre’s gaze flicked back to Graeson, and a chill ran down his spine, drawing his brows together. He took a step backward as if sensing the oncoming pain, yet there was no way he could prepare for what was to come. Kalisandre’s lips moved, but all his senses seemed to stop working.
He wasn’t sure if the room had gone completely silent or not, for all he could hear was his heartbeat in his lungs. He grabbed onto the nearest item—a person, a chair, the wall, he didn’t know or care—because the two words that finally struck him in the chest nearly toppled him over.
"Your mother."
Chapter 6
GRAESON
"My mother is dead."Graeson retreated a step and stumbled over the fallen chair.
Kalisandre knew this. Why would she mess with him? Why?—
She grabbed his hands, her touch sending warmth into his body. But no matter how tightly she squeezed, his large hands were limp in hers. He shook his head, unable and unwilling to hear the truth.
"No, she’s not."
Sweat coated Graeson’s skin, and his breathing became labored. His chest rose and fell at such a rapid pace that his knees threatened to buckle. He vaguely felt his body make contact with a chair as someone pushed him down onto it. Words were said, but he couldn’t hear past the ringing in his ears.
Kalisandre’s lips moved. Was she talking to him? She looked at someone in the room. A small vein popped in her forehead as she spewed a demand.
A flash of movement.
The sound of boots pounding on the ground.
Hands were on him, grabbing him, touching his shoulder and arm, coaxing him. Yet Graeson remained frozen. The only thing grounding him, the only thing he could focus on were the two sea-blue eyes staring back at him.
His mother was alive?
His mother wasalive.
"How? Where?" The questions were no more than rough grunts.
"She’ll tell you everything she knows," Kalisandre whispered, squeezing his hands.
"She?" Graeson asked, confused.
"Myra."
A rattlingof metal rang in the halls, and Graeson nearly tumbled over as he hurried to stand, the sudden movement making him dizzy.
A hand landed on his back. Although he did not turn to confirm who it was, he welcomed Kalisandre’s touch, intrinsically knowing it belonged to her.
Guards led the handmaiden and the two men who had accompanied her to Tetria into the council room.
"You saw my mother?" Graeson demanded, the words tumbling out of his mouth.
Myra flinched, her soft hazel eyes widening. There wasn’t time for niceties, though. He needed answers, and he needed them now.
"I-I didn’t know she was your mother. Not at first," Myra said, voice shaking. "I only realized the connection when we were escaping. I had only seen your mother once before that—when we had first returned from Frenzia. The king was outragedthat Kallie had escaped, and he blamed your mother, believing she had lied to him." She swept her gaze across the room, taking note of the queen and the council hanging on every word. Her throat dipped. "Apparently, she had been providing Domitius with glimpses of the future to guide him in his pursuits."
Outrage propelled Graeson. His weight pressed against the table that separated him from the handmaiden, his palms burning into the surface. "Do you mean to suggest that my mother has been working for Domitius?"
Kalisandre wrapped her hand around his arm, beckoning him to calm down, to hear the handmaiden out. "If Lysanthia was a prisoner, I’m not sure she had a choice, Graeson."
He looked at Kalisandre then, and his expression softened marginally.
