Page 71 of The King's Weapon

A small hand reached for her and wrapped its fingers around her ankle. A different boy with short dark brown hair pulled on her leg.But like her, he was too weak. The bull-headed man's grip around her was unbreakable. Kallie was being torn apart from both sides.

Then the small hand began to loosen around her ankle as a layer of sweat formed between her leg and the boy's hand. A scream escaped her lips as she felt the last of the slim fingers slip.

The bull had won, and the child had lost.Shehad lost.

The stranger threw her over the horse and clicked his heels against the horse's sides. Kallie's head bounced as the horse sprinted away from the burning house.

As she tried to look back, her vision going in and out, she saw two boys kneeling beside the third on the ground. The house crumbling behind them. Their fits pounding against the ground as she spotted another figure appear in the distance, hobbling.

Tears streamed down her face as Kallie watched her family fade into the smoke. The flames consumed the house and her vision went white.

* * *

Her knees hit the ground,her dress billowing around her. A bubble caught in the middle of her chest as though someone had reached down her throat, grabbed her heart from within, and ripped it out of her chest.

This woman, a stranger whom she had known for only a few minutes, had caused her entire world to collapse beneath her.

She should have known. She should have connected the dots.

When Kallie had learned her mother was alive, she knew the king was not her father, but she had not known how she had ended up in his arms.

Everything she knew about her past was a lie, a mirage. A well-crafted story.

She had thought the foundation she stood on, the foundation she had built her life upon was sound, indestructible. The walls she once believed to be made of marble were, in fact, sand and they just got hit by a tsunami. It crumbled in her hands and slipped through her fingertips. Leaving nothing but a few grains in her palm.

Sheknewthat helmet. Had grown up looking upon it with awe. Had seen it every day next to the king's throne, displayed proudly inside a stand encased with glass.

The man who Kallie had grown up callingfatherhad taken her away from the one thing he could not buy. The one thing she could not manipulate or order. And without even blinking an eye.

Kallie had fallen for his lies and stories so easily.

And why wouldn't she? He was herfather. He had trained her. He had been the one person she could rely on—except he wasn't. Not at all.

Kallie had done everything for him. She had tricked people, stolen from people, had people killed. All for him. All in the name of reuniting the seven kingdoms.

Had he truly wanted to reunite the seven kingdoms though? Was that just some ploy?

Why had he torn her fromher family's arms? From her home?

And whyherof all people?

Had he cared for her at all? Or just for the gift she bore?

And why had Kallie believed him?

Her thoughts shifted toward the man from Esmeray's memory—the one who had slept through the fire. The one who had died that night. And one thing stood out: the unruly, dark chestnut hair, the tanned skin.

King Domitius had blonde hair. Kallie had always thought, had alwaysassumedshe had inherited her dark hair from her mother. And there were no paintings to prove otherwise. However, after seeing Esmeray in the flesh, Kallie knew that wasn't true.

Her throat burned and bile began to build up. Her hands lay on her thighs, palms facing the skies, pleading for an answer from the gods.

The air shifted around her, and Kallie lifted her gaze. She knew her eyes were red, her face puffy as she stared at a pair of soft, blue eyes. Kallie swallowed the lump in her throat. "Why?"

Esmeray's delicate fingers wrapped around Kallie's calloused palms. "There is much you do not know about our people's past."

"Then tell me," Kallie said.

"Kallie . . ." Graeson's voice was gentle beside her, but she ignored him.

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