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Ellie shoved the ale at him, the jug hitting Graeson’s forearm. “Enough of the grunting and groaning already. You have barely said anything since we left the house.”

“Hmm, maybe that’s why I left in the first place,” Graeson whispered.

“Ha! Nine words,” Ellie said with a satisfied smile as she leaned back in her chair. “Come on, talk.”

Graeson cracked his jaw. While the blood-red splotches had vanished from his vision, he knew the god inside of him was watching, waiting.

“So, what will you do if she says she doesn’t want to come with us?”

He twisted the jug between his hands. “I’ve already told you. She doesn’t have control of her mind.”

“And that’s for you to decide?”

Graeson squeezed his eyes shut.

Ellie placed a hand over his. “Look, I know you mean well. I know you only want to do right by her, but you must be prepared when she does not see it that way.”

“We’ve been through this already,” Graeson said, pulling his hand out from under hers and folding his arms over his chest as he leaned back in his chair.

“Apparently not enough.” Ellie scooted her chair closer to him. “You practically ran out of there tonight.”

“And?”

“And you have less than a week to convince her to leave with you. The chances of her going willingly are—”

“I know the chances,” he spat.

“What will you do if she would rather stay?”

Graeson tightened his fist. “If that were truly what she wanted, then that would be that. But the fact of the matter is she does not know truth from fiction right now.”

Ellie chewed on her lip. “Fine, but what happens when you can’t fix her? What if . . .” Ellie sighed. “What if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not wrong,” Graeson snapped.

“And if she believes she was happier before? If she was happy here?”

“She’s not.”

“How can you know that?”

“Did you not see her tonight?” Graeson’s fist smacked against the table, and the nearby patrons sent him wary looks. He ignored them and whispered, “She’s withering away. They arelettingher wither away into nothing. She is not meant to be some prized jewel, some pawn to be pranced around a ballroom. She is not happy there. If she stays there, she will never be happy. Her happiness does not matter to her.”

“Then what does?”

Ice coated his veins, his muscles tightening. The music grew louder, and laughter filled the air. But all Graeson could hear was the fear in Ellie’s voice, the incredulity.

“Her father’s approval. That’s all she cares about. She deserves to put herself first for once. That man—he does not care for her.”

Ellie gnawed on the bottom of her lip, her brows drawing together. “Graeson—”

Graeson snapped his gaze away from hers because, at that moment, as his silver eyes stared into the pitch darkness of hers, he saw everything. His present, his past. Everything he didn’t want to admit right now.

This was not the time for regret or worries. Kalisandre needed him first.

He stood. “We’re not talking about this anymore.”

“Maybe not here, but we will. There’s more to this story.”