Page 52 of The Throne's Undoing

Afraid of someone overhearing her sobs, she pushed herself away from the door and scurried to her bed. She dropped onto the mattress, the plush quilt consuming her.

She quickly snatched a pillow and muffled her sobs. The fabric was soaked in seconds as the tears rushed out, unrestrained. Throat burning, Kallie sat up and tossed the pillow onto the ground, opting to sob into her hands instead.

Soon, the door's hinges creaked open, the high-pitched squeak ripping through the quiet, and Kallie tensed as soft steps hit the floor.

"Leave," Kallie commanded, her voice strained and wobbly as she tried to swallow the cry in her throat.

The footsteps stopped.

When the door clicked shut, Kallie's shoulders sagged in relief. She rubbed her fists against her eyes, the tears smearing across her knuckles.

Through the sobs, however, Kallie heard the faint tap of heels and stiffened once more.

She lifted her head, her hair falling in front of her face. "I told you to--"

"Kals," Myra interrupted, the handmaiden's voice a soft plea.

"I wish to be left alone," Kallie said through her hands. Myra might have been her friend, but Kallie did not want anyone to witness this moment of weakness.

Despite the request, the bed dipped as Myra sat beside her.

"No one should be left alone while they are hurting," Myra whispered. "You are in pain. Let me comfort you." She wrapped an arm around Kallie, tugging her close, and instantly, some of the tension in Kallie's body released.

Still, Kallie fought the comfort offered to her. She tried to shrug Myra off. "I don't need to be comforted. I am fine," she insisted.

Myra only pulled Kallie closer.

Kallie inhaled in an attempt to extinguish the trembling that had overtaken her body. Notes of lavender and mint wrapped their sweet aroma around her.

She took another breath, focusing on the scent, allowing it to pull her mind elsewhere.

After a few more steadying breaths, Kallie relented as if a deep part of her needed her friend's presence. Kallie peeled her hands from her face, then wrapped her arms around Myra, leaning into her embrace despite knowing she shouldn't.

"You push yourself too much, Kals."

Kallie bit her lip, then released it. "I have to, Mys."

With a delicate hand, Myra brushed a strand of hair from Kallie's cheek. "One day, it will get better."

She almost laughed. "When?"

Myra did not respond, for they both knew there was no clear answer.

Myra squeezed Kallie, and her handmaiden's mere presence was enough to soothe the ache in Kallie's chest and dry the tears upon her cheeks.

As they sat, Kallie's breathing steadied, the trembling settled, and logic returned.

Her father pushed her because he knew Kallie could take it. He pushed her to make her better. The intense training, the grandiose speeches about plans and sacrifices, theassignments--they were all to make Kallie become the best she could be.

She was enough and would make her father proud.

Even if it was the last thing she did.

Light beamed above her,bright and stabbing. Kallie tried to peel her eyes open, but her head pounded from even the smallest twitch of her muscles.

Soft voices floated above her.

"It has to be done," a woman added.

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