Page 164 of The Throne's Undoing

Again and again as they tried to slip through the fury overtaking her.

Her gift stirred within the pit of her stomach, beckoning her. Its honeyed taste coated her tongue, begging her to use the power the gods granted her.

Begging her to succumb to its pull.

Kallie struggled against the person as the tears rolled down her face with no sign of stopping.

The threads of her gift danced, rising higher and higher.

Through her tear-stained vision, she saw someone assisting Myra to sit up. The handmaiden took a deep breath. Her pale, shaking hand rubbed her throat, which was now a vibrant shade of red where Kallie's hands had been.

"Kalisandre," the person holding her repeated, more urgently this time.

Her feet hit the ground, and she was immediately spun around, the person's grip on her firm as her entire body shook with rage.

Silver eyes peered down at her, a beacon.

"Breathe, Kal," Graeson whispered.

"She--she did this," Kallie hissed through the tears still streaming down her face.

His thumb ran across her left wrist as he held her steady. "She is a victim just like you are." Graeson pressed his palm to her face and gently swiped away the tears with his thumb. "You are better than this. You are better than him."

Kallie shook her head, the ghost of tears sticking to her skin. "No, I am not."

"Yes, you are," Graeson whispered as the chaos surrounding them slowly died down. "We need to hear them out. Then the queen will decide what to do with them." He wiped away more tears, his gaze never leaving hers.

Kallie bit down on her tongue and took a deep breath.

"We can leave if you wish," he offered quietly.

She only shook her head. She wanted--no,neededto hear what they had to say. She would not run from this.

Myra would not touch her again.

She would never give anyone that kind of power.

Graeson nodded and weaved his fingers between hers. He squeezed her hand once, and Kallie exhaled, straightening as sheturned to face Myra. Only then did she process who the two men with Myra were.

Rian and his guard, Laurince, sat beside her. They all looked like they were dragged to the Beneath and had crawled their way out.

In the time that passed since the wedding, Laurince had gained a new, gnarly scar, which spread across his neck as if an animal had attacked him. Rian was nearly unrecognizable kneeling between Myra and Laurince. His red hair was muted and covered in dirt and grime. His brown skin was dull as were his soft green eyes. He wore a stained, tattered cotton shirt.

Rian's attention flicked to where Graeson and Kallie's hands were intertwined, and guilt twisted in Kallie's stomach.

Sensing her tension as her fingers twitched, Graeson loosened his hand. Kallie only held on tighter, though, and she could have sworn she heard Graeson release a soft exhale, his shoulders dropping slightly as she did.

"Let's be civil, shall we?" Cetia said, calling their attention to her. Her chin rested atop her fist, her features unfazed. She waved a nonchalant hand in the air. "King Rian, please do explain why the entire world thinks you are deathly ill."

"When my home was attacked," Rian began, a cold gaze slipping across his face as he glared at the Pontians standing on either side of Kallie, "I was injured. I had taken a blade to my side and was rushed to the infirmary during the chaos that befell my kingdom."

Graeson shifted beside Kallie, and she looked at him quizzically from the corner of her eye. He offered her only a small shrug that was otherwise unnoticeable. Although she swore she saw a hint of a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth.

"Mayhem was already filling the streets by then, and I had lost so much blood. The pain was so great that it was hard forme to process what was happening around me. I recognized my brother, though, as his guards carried me out of the temple before I blacked out.

"But when I awoke, I wasn't in the infirmary, at least not the one inside the castle. This place was much darker, colder. One moment, a healer and Sebastian were peering down at me, and then the next, I could hear the creak of a carriage's wheels. I tried to ask someone where we were going, but no one would tell me anything. The next thing I knew, I was strapped to a table."

Myra squirmed beside him, her shoulders trembling.

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