Page 110 of The King's Weapon

"You heard what the king said. Kill them."

Her stomach dropped. Kallie didn't know how many were in the safe room, but she knew at least Esmeray and Terin would be there. Even though her actions had brought these men to these shores, she couldn't let the Frenzians kill them. She just needed to get close enough to them, so that she could change the tide with her gift.

At the end of the hall, there was another turn. Kallie paused before she crept down it. She peeked around the corner. Three men stood before a door on the opposite wall, their backs turned away from her. One of them began touching the border of the door. She scanned the men, spotting the royal Frenzian crest and a man with bright ginger hair. He was unmistakable.

It seemed her target long ago did not learn his lesson that first night.

Prince Sebastian—the captain of Frenzia's navy, her fiancé's brother—stood before the door.

Kallie waited behind the corner, anticipating their next move as Sebastian drew his sword, nodding to the soldier standing next to him. At Sebastian’s signal, the soldier approached the door. Holding a handkerchief over his face, he lit a match with his other hand as Sebastian backed up against the opposite wall.

Kallie's eyes narrowed. Then a faint sizzling sound sparked. The match caught a hold of something and a small flame began to travel around the edge of the door. As the burnt line connected, the soldier pushed gently against the door and it fell inside the room. Sharp screams followed the fall inside the room.

Prince Sebastian stepped under the archway and onto the fallen oak door, sword at the ready. "Where is she?"

When only silence answered him, he spat the question again, “Where is she?”

After a moment, someone inside the room cleared their throat. And then Esmeray's voice filled the hallway, strong and steady as she responded to the armed man before her, "I'm sorry, but you are going to have to be more specific than that."

Annoyed, Sebastian scoffed. "Kalisandre."

"I'm sorry, but Kalisandre is not here."

Sebastian groaned in annoyance. But it wasn't a lie.

Not quite.

"If I have to ask again, I will not hesitate to kill everyone in this room. But if you tell me where she is, I will turn around and pretend as if I saw none of you."

Sebastian was lying and Kallie knew Esmeray saw through his lie as well. The queen was too valuable for him to kill, but it did not mean he would not kill everyone else.

Still, the people in the room remained silent. Sebastian's fingers tapped against his scabbard, waiting. Ticking down the clock. Kallie swallowed, twisting her ring.

When Sebastian nodded to the soldier beside him, the man stepped into the room, two short swords drawn at his side.

Kallie took a deep breath. She had one chance to get this right.

She pushed the hood of her clock back from her face and let it fall onto her back.

"Prince Sebastian!" Kallie shouted, making her voice small and weak as she came around the corner, dragging her foot behind her more dramatically than necessary.

The three Frenzian men swung their heads toward her and Sebastian's eyes widened as he found Kallie before him. His eyes scanned over Kallie. Her black pants were slathered with dirt, holes torn at the knees from crawling. Dirt and blood coated her fingernails and hands. The risqué corset pinched her waist, her collarbone bare with dirt smeared on it. She was far away from the elegant princess the king had raised. But she never felt more like herself.

Using the wall to prop herself up, Kallie trudged down the hall, the half-dried-up blood from the soldier outside smeared on the wall. When she was across the door of the safe room, she let herself slip down the wall.

And before she even hit the floor, Sebastian was in front of her, hoisting her up by her armpits. "Princess Kalisandre?" His voice was laden with concern, for to Sebastian, she was still his brother's fiancé. To him, she was a victim and he was there to save her from her kidnappers.

She had never been a victim though.

He lifted her. As he wrapped his arm underneath her, the smell of iron and smoke hit her nose. She noticed the once-white handkerchief stained red peeking out of his pocket, the black soot on his lapel.

"Are you well? Are you hurt?" Sebastian asked.

Kallie forced her voice to shake, which took little effort at this point. "I'm ok. It's nothing. Just my ankle. . .I had to. . . I—" Tears billowed in her eyes as she feigned weakness. And she hated herself for pretending to be weak, but she knew that the man who stood at her side would believe it.

Any man would believe a weak woman.

Besides one. That man, however, wanted nothing to do with her anymore. And she couldn’t blame him. Their fairytale moment was over.

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