Page 57 of The Kingdom's Reckoning
"I cannot be what you want me to be," Kallie whispered.
His brows bunched together, and his eyes flicked back and forth between hers. "Who do you think I want you to be, Kal?"
"You want me to be safe, not reckless. You want me to sit somewhere while those I care about put their lives at risk for me."
"I—" Graeson began, but Kallie cut him off before he could say anything else.
"I’m going to go through with this whether or not you like it," Kallie said, determined. She needed him to understand. She needed him to know why she was breaking his heart—breaking both of theirs. "You may think that I am only doing this because I blame myself for this war, but that is not the entire truth. While my actions are in part to blame, I do not care that my reputation has been tarnished. I’m not doing this because I want people to look at me differently. Nothing I do will rewrite the past. I have come to terms with that. Not only do I need to do this, Iwantto. For the first time in my life, I have a choice, not only to prevent bloodshed, but to use my ability for good.
"Ever since we freed my mind, I’ve believed my gift to be a curse, that it could only be used for evil. Domitius didn’t only infect my emotions, he twisted the way I viewed myself. That is not something that Ellie nor the queen can fix. That is something that I have to do on my own. I need to do this because I need to prove to myself that I am not his weapon. There has to be a reason the gods gave me this ability other than to start a war." She took a deep breath. "And if you can’t respect that, then I kindly ask you to leave."
Although she was afraid to see how her words hurt him, she was proud of having spoken her truth. If Graeson could notunderstand where she was coming from, then that was his fault. And perhaps the very reason the Fates were against them.
But then Graeson did something she did not expect. He smiled. A true, genuine smile.
He grabbed her hands and squeezed them. "Kalisandre, you misunderstand my hesitancy. I’m sorry that you believe I want you to make yourself small. I haveneverwanted that. I have only ever wanted you to have a choice. Domitius has always been several steps ahead of us, so my hesitancy only comes from fear. I do not wish to lose you. And yes, part of that is me being selfish. But if this is what you wish to do, then please, let me be there by your side when you face him."
There was a plea in his eyes, but she realized he meant what he said. He wasn’t begging her to turn around. It was something entirely different.
His gaze was locked onto hers, unflinching and undeterred. "Let me see you become the woman I’ve always known you could be."
Chapter 24
MYRA
Myra peeredover the top of her book. At the end of the row of bookshelves, Laurince stood with his arms crossed and his foot tapping as he talked to Rian. The survivors’ arrival from the eastern border had made him, and everyone else, restless.
The war was here, and they were woefully unprepared.
Every day, messenger birds arrived, delivering news of more attacks, more death. Every day, they trained. Every day, they returned to the library, and every day their patience grew thinner and thinner.
Myra no longer even knew what she was looking for. The words were a puddle in her mind. She had read countless stories about the gods, and one text supported Rian’s theory that the gods had come from the stars, but thehowwas beyond vague. Laurince had read another text—if a children’s book could have been called such—that featured the child of a mortal and immortal. The child’s immortal mother took various shapes, appearing as a bird, a rabbit, and even a bear in the story. Laurince had quickly tossed the book back onto the shelf, rolling his eyes. Days had gone by, and they had yet to find anything useful.
As Myra read the ancient book before her, faint whispers tickled her ears. She fought to ignore the king and captain bickering several feet away, their voices a blurry drone against the musty scent of aged paper. She squinted at the faded ink on the yellowed pages. Myra sighed. Deciphering the faded script was hopeless, like chasing shadows in the dark.
"Come on. Just tell her," Laurince whispered.
"We’ve been through this," Rian argued.
Myra peeled her attention away from the book as the two men joined her. She looked down at their empty hands.
"Tell me what?" she asked, her brows curling in confusion. They had said they were going to grab more books to sift through, yet they stood empty-handed.
"Nothing," Rian said, waving it off.
Laurince nudged him in the side with his elbow.
"What?" Rian asked, exasperated.
The crease in the middle of Myra’s forehead deepened. She slipped a bookmark inside the book and closed it.
"She deserves to know," Laurince urged.
"Laurince," Rian warned.
Myra swallowed, sensing the truth.
The captain pressed his palms on one of the open books, and the paper crunched beneath his hands. "We’re going back to Frenzia."
