Page 17 of The Kingdom's Reckoning
Graeson’s lips curled, a snarl forming that was so inhuman it sent goosebumps running up Myra’s arms. "She has no boundaries."
"Your anger has no boundaries. Now sit," Cetia ordered.
Graeson’s nose twitched, but he fell back into his chair. He ran a hand down his face and squeezed the bridge of his nose. "If she is dead," Graeson whispered, "know there will be nowhere to hide."
Myra sent a silent prayer to the gods, begging for even an ounce of mercy. She did not wish for Lysanthia to die. She had tried to convince Lysanthia to come. But trying wasn’t enough she realized.
"I’d like to see you try."
Myra went rigid at Laurince’s threat.
With his hand hovering over his face and casting dark shadows across his features, Graeson cocked a brow at the captain. "What was that, pretty boy?"
"She’s not dead," Myra quickly said before Laurince could respond. She might not have been able to deescalate the situation by altering Graeson’s emotions, but she could at least distract him from Laurince’s blatant inabilitynotto provoke him.
The moment Graeson turned his attention back to her, though, Myra regretted interfering.
"How would you know? You’re no longer there, now are you?"
Waves of hatred crashed into her at Graeson’s words. Grappling for space to breathe, Myra struggled to stay afloat. Her mother had always told her to look for a friendly face when the sea of emotions began to flood her system. As a child, the rush of emotions had been so overwhelming it nearly paralyzed her. Her throat would seize up, her hands would shake, and her legs would crumble beneath her. But as she scanned the faces at the table, only strangers and the best friend whom she betrayed stared back.
Something brushed against her side.
Blinking, she looked down to see Laurince’s knuckles beside her hip. She dragged her gaze up to meet his, and the captain offered her a reassuring smile. Without thinking, she mentally reached for him. Anger and hatred still spewed from him, but beneath those rancid emotions, she felt something else—something kind, something bright. Even though it might have seemed like she was alone, she wasn’t. Not really.
She took a deep, albeit shaky, breath before finally answering Graeson. "Because she told us."
Graeson crossed his arms, the muscles straining against the cotton fabric. He mumbled something unintelligible, but she didn’t dare ask him to repeat himself.
Instead, Myra latched onto Laurince’s emotions and pushed forward. "I believe she wanted to stay because she knew something about the future that we are not privy to."
"Did Lysanthia happen to tell you this future?" Dani pressed, tapping her foot beneath the table.
Myra tried to recall the seer’s exact words, but recalling that night left a bitter taste in her mouth and a pang of sorrow pinched at the back of her eyes. Still, she had to try.
"She said…she said that she could do more if she stayed. That if things follow fate’s path, we would see each other again."
"Then that settles it," Kallie said, straightening. "We offer the trade: Graeson’s mother for me."
Myra balked.Thatwas Kallie’s plan? To sacrifice herself in exchange for the seer?
"No," Graeson said gruffly, his fist curling atop the table. "We will find another way. We will not lose you again."
"Gray—" Kallie began, but Cetia cut her off.
"Graeson is right," the Queen said, demanding the attention of the entire room. "This plan has been made in haste and without a careful analysis of all the pieces at play. As Medenia has pointed out, Kalisandre has not used her ability since she has been here. But not only that, the seer has clearly seen something that could very well be in our favor. If we act imprudently, we may only make matters worse."
Kallie’s frustration wafted off her, hitting Myra in the stomach. Myra sensed a disagreement coming, but Kallie sat back in her chair, defeat washing over her. Graeson’s entire body sagged in relief, as did Myra’s.
While her relationship with Kallie was still strained, Myra did not want Kallie to sacrifice herself. Domitius was too smart. He would see through whatever plan they came up with.
Rian shifted, the chains rattling as he took a step forward. "And what of the matter of our unjust imprisonment?"
Myra held back a groan.
First Laurince, and now the king? Did neither of them wish to leave this room alive?
"Unjust?" the white-haired Tetrian—Ellie, Myra recalled—said with a cocked brow. "You snuck into our queendom like thieves in the night and proceeded to make demands the moment you arrived here."
