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He took a step back, and Kalisandre refused to look at him. He tipped her chin up with a finger, but she only closed her eyes. “Whatever is going on, you can tell me.”

She shook her head, and she sensed a tear forming. It hung on her eyelashes for a brief moment before rolling down her cheek. Graeson wiped it away with his thumb.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” she whispered. “Nothing has changed, Graeson.”

“Nothing?” He searched her countenance for an explanation, for something that would explain what had happened. For a moment, the old Kalisandre had been back, but now she was gone once more. “Everything has changed, Kalisandre. Don’t you see that?”

An amused, noncommittal sound escaped her lips, sending spikes crawling up the back of his neck. An eerie cold slithered over his skin, but there was no breeze inside of the room, no window allowing the cold to sweep in. Only an icy look in her eyes as her gaze fell upon him.

“Perhaps for you, but not for me.” Kalisandre turned around, her back to him as she approached the door.

What are you doing? Stop her!the beast shouted in the back of his mind.

Graeson grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Kalisandre shook her head. “Graeson, you believe me to be the girl I was. I am not that girl anymore. I haven’t been in a long time.”

“But—”

“Listen to me,” she hissed. “My goals have not changed. My desires have not changed. Mylifehas not changed simply because you have walked back into it for a moment. I told you before that my word means something to me.” She stepped forward, frustration coloring her cheeks. “Does it mean nothing to you?”

Graeson’s lips fell open, yet no words came out. How could he explain it to her to make her understand? How could he tell her what he knew?

Kallie shook her head, lips drawn in a straight line. She pressed the heels of her palms against her temple. “Of course not. They never have, have they?”

“That’s not true,” he said, sneering.

She huffed. “If it were true, Graeson, you wouldn’t be here.”

Red coated the edges of his vision, but he pushed the beast back down. He would handle this himself. “I’m herebecauseof you, Kalisandre. I promised you I would never stop fighting for you. I told you once that your safety and happiness mattered.”

“Yet you’re still not listening to me! Do you even hear yourself?” Her hands fell to her side in fists. “I couldneverbe happy with you.”

Graeson shook his head in dismay. How could she know that if she didn’t even give him a chance? She had been fighting the pull that called them together from the beginning. Was Domitius’ hold so strong that it prevented her from hearing it?

Graeson reached for her hand, but Kalisandre snapped it away.

She exhaled exasperatedly. “Theywill never forgive me, Graeson.”

She didn’t need to say whotheywere, but Graeson knew her mother and brother better than she did. Kalisandre never had the chance to learn their souls, to understand how much her disappearance had affected them. When Kalisandre discovered the truth about her family, she had already concocted an image of who they were: people who seemingly didn’t care about her. But the fact of the matter was that they cared too much. Too much to risk her life and put her in even more danger.

Without thinking, his fingers wrapped around her arms. Beneath his hold, a slight tremble rocked her entire body. She was carrying too much, holding too much back. He already saw what that had done to her appearance. How much would she let the guilt cost her?

“Fynn’s death is not your fault, Kalisandre.”

She finally looked at him, her faded blue eyes bouncing between his as though she was looking for the lies hidden within them. Kalisandre would find no such thing in his. His friend’s death was not her fault. Domitius was the one who brought the ship to his kingdom’s shores. Domitius had brought the unruly Frenzians soldiers. He had taken Kalisandre from them years ago. He had been the one who had raised Kalisandre to view Pontia as the enemy. He was the one who had turned her into a weapon.

She wasn’t meant to be used. To be misguided and misdirected. She wasn’t meant to be commanded.

Kalisandre wasn’t a king’s weapon. She was meant to command, to wield. To be the one guiding the shots she threw. She was meant to push the blade, not have someone else guide it for her.

Graeson needed to tell her.

“Kalisandre, you need to know the truth. Fynn and I—”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses! I don’t need to hear your elaborate reasons for coming here. I don’t need to hear your false promises.”

His frustrations were rising to the surface. He couldn’t help it. Her anger, her ire, awoke the beast within him. Graeson could only be made a fool for so long.