Page 82 of The Throne's Undoing

Kallie's breath hitched as Graeson's voice broke through the roar of voices.

"You can still fix this, Kalisandre," her father said. "Come home."

Home.

Where was her home?

Ardentol was Domitius's kingdom; its people were his, not hers.

Was that not what she wanted--her own throne, her own kingdom to rule?

But then...

A thought seeped through the cracks of the thickening ice.

Her father had tried to sell her to Frenzia to gain their kingdom. Kallie was supposed to sit on the throne, but she would not have ruled. Not really.

She would have been just another figurehead, another queen for a man to manipulate.

Kallie's brows twisted. "Pontia was once my home."

"That island?" her father asked with a snort. "What good--"

"Ardentol was my home once, too," Kallie whispered, her voice shaking as she continued, ignoring his interruption. "Until you sent me away." She blinked, struggling to make sense of it all. "How are you better than any of them?"

"I have treated you as if you were my own!" Domitius shouted.

Had he, though?

Various memories rose to the surface.

Kallie walking into the center of a ballroom, her hand in her father's, her diamond-covered dress sparkling beneath the chandelier.

Kallie running through mazes, her lungs threatening to burst.

Her knees hitting the ground as she struggled to breathe. A hand gripping her arm, bruising her flesh.

Green, hungry eyes boring into hers as a hand wrapped around her throat and another skated up her thigh.

For her entire life, Kallie had strived to be the perfect daughter, the perfectweapon.She pushed her body, broke herbones, and sacrificed her morals. She let Domitius's dreams become hers. His goals had morphed into hers.

Nothing she did was ever in pursuit of her desires.

She lied to the people she cared about because he told her to.

She manipulated innocents because he commanded it.

She sacrificed an entire kingdom's safety to advance his political agenda.

What had Kallie ever done that was just for her?

Even her romantic exploits, which were few and far between, resulted from assignments to test her abilities.

Diamond. Weapon. Pawn--that'swhat Kallie was to Domitius. Not a daughter, and by no means an equal, not even close.

She was merely a tool for him to use.

The ice around Kallie's fingers cracked as her fingers strained against it, her muscles flexing.

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