Page 2 of The Throne's Undoing
"Once we're successful and I lead all of Vaneria, there will be no more wars. Kingdoms will no longer harbor resources and knowledge only for themselves. But to be successful, you must keep your walls up. Am I clear?"
Kallie nodded.
They'd had this conversation many times over the years. Whenever she was preparing to leave for a mission, her father had given her the same spiel.
Keep your mind focused.
Remember the mission.
Remember our goal.
I am trusting you, Kalisandre.
Do not let me down.
Every time, it was the same. Every time his doubt crept into his words and slithered into her mind. They spun and spun and spun.
All Kallie wanted was for her father to have faith in her.
All she wanted was for him to believe in her. To trust her. But he never did. He constantly questioned her and her faith in him.
Still, whenever the king of Ardentol demanded more of her, Kallie willingly obliged every single time. No matter the danger she faced. No matter the sacrifices that had to be made.
Chapter 1
GRAESON
"No!"Dani shouted through the tears streaming down her russet-brown cheeks as she sprinted to the pile of rubble, her dark brown braids flying behind her. She clawed at the rocks that had fallen from the ceiling, throwing them behind her and peeling away at the wreckage, bit by bit. "He can't get away. He can't get away!" she repeated like a desperate mantra, her voice mangled and throat raw.
Back throbbing, Graeson took in a sharp breath and coughed as he inhaled dust. He waved his hand as he tried fruitlessly to fan away the billowing cloud in the air. Yet dust motes continued to swarm his vision.
More coughing sounded behind him, and Graeson jerked around, ignoring the sharp pain in his back.
"Terin, you two all right?" Graeson asked, finding the Pontian prince huddled on the ground, his large form covered in a thick layer of dust. Time seemed to stand still as Graeson waited for a response, his lungs constricting.
Finally, Terin nodded, and ash fell from his brown hair.
Graeson's attention dropped to the delicate hand lying limp beneath Terin's body. "Is she--" Graeson couldn't finish the question.
Thankfully, he didn't have to.
"She's all right," his friend said, assuring him as he pushed himself up with a groan.
Graeson stared at Kalisandre's unmoving form as Terin uncurled himself from her, having shielded her from most of the destruction. The evidence of Terin's gift still marked Kalisandre's pale face. The cotton wrapping around her forehead was soiled and stained red. Her wedding dress was shredded and smeared with grime and ash. But, Graeson reminded himself, she was all right--she was alive.
"What the fuck wasthat?" Terin asked.
Forcing himself to look away from Kalisandre, Graeson studied the destruction from the explosion. Black soot covered the floor near the rubble, and an acrid smell lingered in the air.
"Seems like the same explosives the Frenzians used back home," Graeson said. "Maybe a toned-down version of it."
"Why would Domitius have one of those on him at a wedding?" Terin sputtered.
Graeson turned back to Terin and squinted at Kalisandre.
There were many questions spinning in Graeson's mind, and Terin's question was merely one of them.
"It seems like he had plans of his own," Graeson said.