Page 131 of Spark of the Everflame

“He did bad things,” I said finally. “Passed bad laws.”

“Such as?”

I shifted my weight. “Laws that hurt children.”

“The progeny laws,” he guessed.

I nodded.

“You think those laws should be abolished?”

“I think no child should have to die because of who or what their parents are.”

“Even if that’s the cost required to keep our realm powerful?”

“If the death of innocents is a cost we’re willing to pay, then we don’t deserve to be powerful.”

Pale blue light flared bright behind his eyes, but Luther didn’t answer. In the ensuing quiet, we both turned our attention back to the King.

Despite my feelings toward him, Ulther’s looming death struck a chord in my heart. I wondered if he had children or grandchildren. If they sat with him sometimes, as I did now. If they held him close and anxiously awaited the grief of his loss. If their cruel Descended hearts were even capable of such things.

I pulled my hand out of Luther’s, trying not to think about how much willpower that simple act had required. My fingers felt too cold, too alone, so I busied them brushing hair back from the King’s face and smoothing the edge of his nightshirt where the fabric bunched and cut into his skin.

“You haven’t been joining Maura on her calls to the palace lately,” Luther said.

“I took a break.”

“Why?”

I cocked an eyebrow. “Need I remind you what happened the last time I was here?”

“Fair point. You do seem to be impressively bad at following orders.”

“Thanks,” I said dryly.

He smiled. “But you’re very good at your job.”

A blush rose to my cheeks, and I despised the lie it told—a humble girl, too modest to know her accomplishments. I was far from humble, and Ididknow I was a good healer. I just didn’t deserve to be.

“You are,” he insisted. “I saw the way you calmed my sister down when she was scared, and the way you made my young cousins laugh when they were hurt. You were kind to them even when their mothers were impolite.” He nodded down at his uncle. “The way you’re being with him now, even though you dislike him. My guards assaulted you on nearly every visit to the palace, and yet you scoldedmefor woundingthem. You tried to fight me to run into a burning building to save them.”

I turned my face away, unable to stand the way he looked at me with such respect—the same way Henri had the day I’d stolen the documents from House Benette.

The day I’d doomed those dead Descended guards to their fate.

He craned his neck, trying to catch my eye. “I think you have a rare gift for seeing a person forwhothey are, and not justwhatthey are.”

My voice went quiet. “If you knew me better, you might have a different opinion.”

It was the most I dared to reveal.

A long silence passed as Luther’s focus held steady on me.

“Diem... the last time you were here, the day you ran from this room—what were you really looking for?”

My shoulders tightened, but I forced my hands to keep moving, forced my face into indifference. “I told you, I forgot my satchel.”

“Was it for the Guardians?”

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