Page 16 of The Kingdom's Reckoning
"She probably did what she had to do to survive," she said gently.
Her words settled in his mind. His mother had not died when he was a mere child. She was a prisoner—had been a prisoner for nearly two decades.
"Domitius has a way of getting what he wants—several of us here know that fact all too well," the king of Frenzia said, his nostrils flaring.
A low rumble came from the god inside Graeson. Rian may have been the man who was previously engaged to Kalisandre, but Graeson had no energy to fight him or yell at him. In truth, he pitied the worn king. Chains adorned his wrists, and fatigue soaked his expression and body.
"While Lysanthia may have been providing glimpses of the future for King Domitius, she was definitely not on his side," Myra said, calling Graeson’s attention back to her. "When I first saw her, she wasn’t afraid to show how delighted she was that the wedding had gone up in flames. It was admirable. Theway she wasn’t afraid to speak out against him. Despite being chained, she did not fear him. Not in the slightest."
Terin squeezed Graeson’s left shoulder. "My mother always said Lysanthia was a fighter."
At the prince’s remark, a glimmer of pride prickled in Graeson’s chest, but it was short-lived. The darkness returned in an instant. "Yet you still left her," he spat, narrowing his gaze at the handmaiden.
Myra wrapped her arms around her torso and swallowed her excuse.
He scoffed in disgust.
The man beside Myra—Laurince, Graeson recalled—stepped forward, the chains around his ankles clanging. "Do not blame her. I was the one who told Myra we had to leave. We only had a small window of time to get out."
Graeson slammed his fist against the table, the tea cups rattling across the surface. "You left her with him!" His knuckles bit into the grain of the wood, and he could have sworn he heard the wood splinter from the pressure.
"I tried to convince her to come," Myra explained, her voice wobbling. "Sh-she refused."
"You should have forced her then!" Graeson shouted, his fury reddening the corners of his vision.
"She was chained to a fucking wall!" Laurince shouted.
The Tetrian warriors inched closer, but the captain pressed on, a vein protruding beneath the red scar on his neck
"We had no key, no way of getting her out. We barely made it out alive as it was. How do you expect us to have freed her?"
"You should have tried! You should have broken the chains—anything! If she was one of your parents, you would have done anything to free them."
Laurince scoffed. "Shetold us to leave her!"
Like a frayed rope hanging on its last thread, Graeson snapped. He stormed forward, grabbing the captain by his collar and yanking him?—
He froze, time coming to a stop as something foreign slithered over his skin.
Chapter 7
MYRA
Laurince and Graeson’sanger whipped around the space, lashing out angrily. Their rage drenched the council room and seeped into every surface. It soaked into the grain of the floorboards, saturated the plush floral rug, and stained the glass windows. As their emotions slithered across Myra’s limbs, she couldn’t help herself. It was instinctual. She grabbed onto those threads?—
Graeson’s iron-tipped gaze snapped to her in an instant. The gray hue of his irises shifted from pewter to liquid mercury.
Flinching, Myra released the threads. But she wasn’t quick enough. Graeson’s fury was so bright it bled into her soul and poured down the string, hot to the touch, burning her from the inside out. When she peered down at her trembling hands, she could have sworn her skin was pinker than it had been seconds before.
"You overstep, handmaiden," Graeson growled, his ire dripping and snaking around her neck.
"I—I didn’t mean—" She gulped, the rock in her throat nearly impossible to swallow.
She hadn’t intended to mess with Graeson’s emotions. She didn’t want to give anyone any more reason to hate her—they already had plenty. But it was second nature to soothe and calm. To deescalate a situation.
"Thisis why we cannot trust them," Graeson said, releasing Laurince and shoving him away. The captain’s back hit the wall with a smack. Graeson’s anger continued to ripple off him as he retreated.
"Can you blame the girl?" Queen Cetia asked.
