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Then she smiled, and Graeson deflated.

Kalisandre wasn’t looking for him. She didn’t even know Graeson stood in the same room. Even if she saw him, it wouldn’t behimwhom she saw, but the masked version cast by Emmett.

That vision Terin had helped him weave did not matter to her. Not like it did for him.

No, that wide, toothy smile accompanied by a soft blush that rose to her cheeks wasn’t because of Graeson.

It was because ofhim.

Chairs scratched against the stone floor, plates rattled on the tables as guests bumped into each other as they stood for the King of Frenzia. Even though their eyes were on Kalisandre, their movements followed the crown’s command. Because when the king stood, the rest of the room followed.

Graeson bit back his annoyance but forced himself to stand with the rest of the crowd nevertheless—if only not to have his view obstructed.

He wondered if Kalisandre was also annoyed with how the people reacted to the king’s presence. If this was the sort of power she craved? If this was the price of her loyalty?

Did she not know who she was? What she could do? She could manipulate anyone she wanted. Wasn’t this just a flashy, frivolous display of that kind of power?

As Rian weaved through the standing crowd, a few faces turned toward him, but the rest remained on Kalisandre. The strangersin the room wanted to know who she was. They craved to know who would be the next Queen of Frenzia.

On the balcony, Kalisandre’s hand floated down to the railing, and she began her descent down the stairs, her gait set at a leisurely pace. Her heels snapped against the steps, and smoke trailed after her, its tendrils wrapping around her ankles. The light of the moon and the flames of the candles bounced off the diamonds around Kalisandre’s shoulders and crown. Tiny, broken shards of light flickered across the wall as she descended the stairs. It was as if she was the light that the people in the room had been searching for, and she was finally giving it to them, dispersing the darkness that blanketed them.

For him, Kalisandre had always been the light in the sea of darkness.

Still, as Graeson watched her, he was not ignorant of what he saw. He saw the manipulator at work. When they were traveling together before, he hadn’t noticed the intricate dance of emotions Kalisandre had displayed at all times. The performance she had put on. Now, it was impossible to miss.

She timed her arrival at the bottom of the staircase perfectly so that Rian had to wait for her, for she wanted the people to see the king waiting for her and not the other way around.

The king extended his hand to her. When Kalisandre placed her hand atop his, a clap thundered in the room, ricocheting off the walls. Light erupted in the stone castle. Fire burst to life atop the torches in the hands of the servants scattered around the room. An aisle of flames lit the royals’ paths as they weaved their way through the crowd hand-in-hand. And in the flicker of the fire, Graeson caught the flash of the gold ring Kalisandre still wore.

Her finger twitched, and Graeson smirked.

She felt it, too. The hum of the metal, the connection that still existed between them.

Yet she continued walking, and his smirk fell.

The guests bowed and curtsied when the two royals passed them. The king either tipped his head in their direction in acknowledgment or, on occasion, stopped and said some greeting that the music prevented others from hearing. There was a sense of familiarity in his actions, while Kalisandre, on the other hand, only offered small, soft smiles to the strangers.

Then they approached Medenia. When Kalisandre observed the rest of the people at the table and looked at Graeson, he stopped breathing. He exchanged a quick, sideways glance with Emmett, hoping he had a lock on their identities, and Emmett nodded ever-so-slightly. Still, Graeson did not relax.

“Princess Medenia, so glad you could make it,” King Rian said.

Medenia smiled. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Your Majesty.”

Graeson barely heard the rest of their conversation, his attention too focused on Kalisandre standing beside the king and smiling politely. Up close, Graeson was struck by how much Kalisandre had changed since he had last seen her. Her skin had lost the sun’s sheen. Her cheeks seemed more hollow, although the rouge on her cheeks attempted to mask it. It was almost as if the life inside of her had washed away when she sailed away on that ship. The Kalisandre he knew and cared for was withering away.

When Kalisandre narrowed her eyes slightly at him, Graeson snapped his gaze up, looking beyond her as if something behind her was more intriguing. Even if his identity was hidden, he should not have stared at Kalisandre so carelessly. What if she saw through it?

Although a part of him—a very foolish and stupid part of him—hoped that Kalisandre would recognize him. That she would see through the facade. That she would recognize his presence instinctively.

A foolish hope.

As the king tugged on her hand, Kalisandre turned her back on Graeson. In the back of his mind, the beast roared as Graeson watched her walk away.

The exchange wasn’t even a minute long, yet Graeson craved more.

Chapter34

KALLIE