Page 3 of The Kingdom's Reckoning
Patience wasa virtue that Kallie no longer possessed. Although if she was being honest with herself, she had never truly been a patient person.
When Kallie looked out the window, darkness still cloaked the sky, but she could see the ominous shades melting into soft purple hues. She leaned forward, her hip pressing against the wall and elbows digging into the windowsill. Her head rested heavily in her palm, her fingers tapping along the side of her cheekbone. Repeatedly, anxiously.
Dawn would arrive soon, which meant several hours had already passed since Domitius' declaration of war. When the messenger had read the letter aloud, haphazard plans were shouted, demands were spewed and ignored, insults were spat from every corner. Even though Kallie knew this was coming—by the gods, they all did—hearing the declaration chilled her to her bones and made her question everything she had been doing for the past few months.
Since Graeson and the others had saved her from marrying Rian and had torn her mind apart,Kallie had been too focused on putting back together the broken pieces of her soul that shehad barely stopped to think about the consequences that were bound to come. Her ignorance had made her believe she was safe from Domitius’ wrath. She had let herselfhope. But hope, she was quickly learning, was a mirage, a false pretense meant to trick its victims into believing a sense of security before the Fates snatched it and crumbled it to ash in their palms.
Yet even with the time that had passed, the weeks of recovery, the weeks of unweaving the web of lies, Kallie still felt incomplete. Like a piece of pottery forced back together, where anything poured inside of it slipped through the imperfect seams.
After living with Domitius for almost eighteen years, Kallie was well aware of the type of man he was. Had she truly thought he would stop trying to take control of Vaneria? He had told her a war would come. He had warned her that the seven kingdoms would need to make a choice. That they would either be forced to stand with him or would fall before him. Kallie had never imagined thatshewould be the reason, though.
Even now, thousands of miles away, she was still the king’s weapon. A device for him to use however he saw fit, a reason to start a frivolous war. She should have stormed back to Ardentol the second she woke up and ruined any chances he had of achieving his goal.
But she had no army, no troops to her name. She had no crown or authority.
Her nails dug into her cheek, the bite of pain sharp and bright. A tree-covered field stretched outside her window, and her eyes followed it before the field dipped beyond the horizon toward the city. A light breeze swept by, rustling the leaves in the nearby trees and stinging her eyes. Her vision blurred, a film of water rising to the surface and gathering on her lash-line. Blinking, she felt her lashes brush against her cheeks, wet and cold.
She wished she could blame the pain or the wind for the tears, but that would only be another lie she told to make herself feel better. Domitius would never stop. No matter what obstacle he came across, he always had an alternative plan.
Kallie pressed her palms against her temples, her nails scraping against her scalp.
Her thoughts went to the people in the castle, the lives that would be or already were irrevocably changed forever.
She thought of Medenia and Ophelia and how their hands interlocked after hearing the king’s declaration of war. Blanched knuckles, wide eyes, ghostly faces. How their quivering gazes revealed the fears they didn’t dare voice.
She thought of Emmett and Sylvia, who had left Pontia not only to save someone whom they didn’t know but the very person who had destroyed their homes.
She thought of the Tetrian warriors clutching the hilts of their blades as they tipped their heads to the top branches of the towering oak tree sitting at the back of the dais. Their lips forming silent prayers to the gods.
She thought of Terin, who would now have to speak on behalf of an entire kingdom while simultaneously handling Esmeray’s order for their return to Pontia.
But most of all, Kallie thought of Dani. How her anger and frustration seeped into every step she had taken in the throne room as she paced. How deep grooves creased her forehead as she silently assessed the strategies and outcomes. How she absentmindedly swept her hand across her swollen belly that could no longer be hidden beneath a loose blouse.
Kallie swiped at a tear that escaped, flicking it away before it could slide down her cheek.
Graeson had accidentally let it slip to Kallie that Dani was pregnant on the way back from the springs. And just as it hadwhen he told her, Kallie’s heart ached for Fynn, Dani, and their unborn child.
Even though the general was surrounded by friends, Kallie wondered if Dani felt alone. If she felt the pending weight of the world pressing down on her shoulders from the need to give the child a safe place to grow up.
Could a child truly flourish in a world soaked in darkness, a world plagued with endless conflict and greed? Kallie wasn’t sure.
Outside, shadows lingered on the ground, sticking to the trees and pavement as if it refused to leave even as the sky bled into lighter hues.
Kallie tried to force back the tears, but they spilled down her cheeks, anyway. With her hand, she silenced her sobs as best she could.
She pushed away from the window, and a glint of silver sparkled in the faint moonlight, giving her pause. As if pulled by it, Kallie padded over to the desk, her bare feet lightly tapping against the cold oak floors. She ran her hand across the back of the chair, the wood rough beneath her palms. As her gaze trailed over the gem-encrusted hilt that glittered in the moonlight, Domitius' voice rose in the back of her mind and threatened to pull her down.
Your emotions will be your downfall.
He had said those words to her countless times, but Kallie refused to cower from her emotions any longer. Tears were not a sign of weakness. Her emotions were not a flaw. Kallie picked up the blade Myra had gifted her years ago and ran her thumb across the words scrawled on the polished metal.
You are the holder of your own fate.
A pang of grief soaked her bones. The dagger was one of two possessions Kallie still could claim as hers.
Although Kallie did not miss being under Domitius' control by any means, she yearned for part of the girl she was back then. The one who did not second-guess her actions. The one who did not let others speak on her behalf. The girl who did not question her purpose.
When the letter had arrived, Kallie had stood silent in the throne room, allowing the others to control the conversation. She should have spoken up. At the very least, she should have demanded that Cetia allow her to attend the meeting. Instead, she had stayed silent out of fear and cowardice.
