Page 115 of The Throne's Undoing

Domitius had told her he cared for her.

He assured her the crown would be hers.

Thepowerwould be hers.

He never told her, however, that he loved her. Never once had he uttered those words in all those years she had lived within the marble castle. Not even as a child.

And the worst part? Kallie was led to believe that was normal and was to beexpectedof a parent, of a father, of a king.

Rulers were above love, for love weakened and love destroyed.

That'swhat he had said to her when she had asked about her mother at seven years old with bright, wide blue eyes and an eager, scared mind.

When seven-year-old Kallie had finally gotten the courage to ask the question that rose in her mind at every turn, at every glance in the mirror, every time she had seen another child's mother in the castle, he had looked at her with such disappointment and resentment.

All Kallie had asked was to see a painting of her mother, to get one glimpse of the woman whose eyes Kallie must have shared because she looked nothing like her father. But when the question had left her lips, Domitius had grabbed Kallie's chin, his grip pinching as he forced Kallie to meet his gaze.

As Kallie stared up at the king, tears rolled down the soft contours of her cheeks. His attention immediately went to them, tracking them with a predatory gaze.

His nose twitched as he hissed, "Queens do not cry over the dead."

"But--" Kallie had begun before snapping her mouth shut as he shook his head.

"Am I not enough for you? Is all of this"--he waved a hand at his office and the castle at large--"Not enough for you, Kalisandre?"

Her lip quivered. "But my mother--" she tried.

Domitius shook his head again. "A mother would not solve your problems for you."

"Then what will?" Kallie asked, her voice just as meek and small as she felt.

A fire had sparked in Domitius's eyes then, and the corner of his mouth twitched up. "You, Kalisandre.Youwill solve all of my--ourproblems."

"Me?" She struggled to understand him.

So much hope had filled his eyes at that moment that Kallie couldn't help but believe him when he said, "Yes, you."

She was too young to see the truth then. Too naive and ignorant to see the hunger and greed stewing beneath the falsified hope he portrayed.

That was the night her training had begun.

When the King of Ardentol had begun to shape and mold Kallie into his weapon. Kallie, a child then, had thought it was to better her, to make her stronger and more capable. She thought it was forherbenefit.

She never saw the truth, though.

She never saw through his endless lies, the falsehoods that slipped so easily from his tongue.

She never questioned why she couldn't manipulate him. Why, every time she got mad or angry at him for sending her off on another assignment or locking her in the room after she had been out past curfew, she couldn't manipulate him like she was learning to do to others.

But whenever she thought to do it,somethingwould pull the rage back. A little voice in her mind would whisper into her bloodstream that he was doing it for her, that these punishments were only to make her stronger, better,more.

But now, as the water of the tub lapped at her skin, as the sweltering heat in the air stuck to her neck, as sweat beaded on her flesh, she saw the truth at last.

Finally, she saw the bull king for the bastard he was, and her best friend for the traitor she had always been.

Domitius and Myra would pay.

They would pay for every assignment, every betrayal, every life they had forced Kallie to take.

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