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“And this”—Kallie pointed to the chaos that covered the table—“This will help?”
“I believe it will help me become a better leader, yes. To know the old stories, to understand where we came from and what is out there.”
A chill swept over her skin, but Kallie ignored it and reached across the table. With a finger, she tipped Rian’s chin up. The clean scruff scratched against the tip of her finger, sharp and rough. When Rian locked eyes with her, Kallie had half a mind to pull back, grab a different book instead, and ask another question. When they were together, they rarely touched, never broached the space that divided them. But with the exhaustion plaguing his countenance, she couldn’t help it. Her hand reached out on instinct. “You will be a great leader, Rian.”
The words left her mouth before she could pull them back, and Kallie regretted them immediately. She didn’t knowwhyshe had said it when she was here to ruin his reign. Once they were wed, Rian’s lifeline would only be as long as it took for Kallie to gain the people’s hearts. When she could wrap her hands around them and command the kingdom at will, he would no longer serve a purpose. But the look across his face—the determination, fear, doubt, and disappointment—Kallie knew that look all too well.
Rian reached up, hesitating, before he finally wrapped his fingers around her wrist. His grip was light, almost nonexistent. He looked down at their hands, now entwined. “Thank you, Kallie. I wish—I wish it were as simple as that, but unfortunately, it is not. Sometimes, I wish the weight of the kingdom did not rest solely on my shoulders.”
Kallie’s brows furrowed. “It doesn’t have to.”
Rian chuckled, letting go of her hand. “Of course, it does. I am the king. Who else would bear the responsibility?” His attention was fixed on the notes before him as he gathered them into a disorderly pile.
“Me,” Kallie said, her hand falling atop his.
“You?” He froze, staring at her, brows furrowed. “Kalisandre, I appreciate you wanting to help, but this is not your responsibility to bear. Frenzia is my kingdom. These are my people, my responsibility.”
Since they had begun meeting in the library, Kallie had never felt disrespected by Rian. She had even started to think that he was different from the other men she knew, from her father, from the Ardentolian advisors. But maybe . . . maybe she was wrong.
Maybe all men in power were the same.
She should have left it at that. She should have nodded politely like she had been trained. Yet, the words spilled from her mouth before she could stop them. “But your brother said that you wished to have a queen to share the throne with, someone to share the burdens of the kingdom with.”
“Do not think my words false. I do wish for that.” Rian’s shoulders dropped as he grabbed the pile of notes. He shook his head. “But wishing is different from doing. You must understand that, don’t you?”
A tightness in her chest formed. When she spoke next, her voice shook. “So that promise was what? A lie?”
Rian shook his head again, but no matter how much he shook his head, Kallie didn’t believe him.
“Of course not. I promise to do what I can. I only mean to say that certain responsibilities are mine and mine alone. You will have your own responsibilities to attend to when you are queen.”
“Like what?” Kallie spat. “Tending to the gardens?” Kallie couldn’t believe this. Had she really thought that Rian could be different?
“Of course not,” Rian said with a gentle laugh as he stood. “The gardeners handle that.”
“Oh, so planning events?” Kallie asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Among other things, no doubt. My mother will teach you.”
“I see.” Kallie’s jaw flexed. Every second that ticked by only proved that Rian did not know who Kallie was or what she could do. And why would he? She was only a trophy he had won. He was the victor, the chosen one. She was nothing more than a pawn to be passed around to the highest bidder.
“Is there something else you wish to do?” he asked, his words careful.
Kallie scoffed and turned in a circle, arms thrusting out. “Who do you think I am, Rian? I am not some frivolous woman who only wishes to sew and plan charity events!”
“Kalisandre,” Rian sighed, brushing his hand across his face. He braced his hands against the table. “Frenzia is very traditional, and the old ways are sewn into the threads of its fabric. While I am doing my best to unravel some of those threads, it is not as easy as one may think. It takes time. My responsibilities are my own, and neither my advisors nor my people will take kindly to a queen who oversteps her boundaries.”
“Since we are making promises, Rian,” Kallie said, raising her gaze to meet his. “I promise never to tread lightly when it comes to what I want. And I always keep my promises.”
She raised a brow, daring him to counter her, to see if he would put up a fight. But as Rian looked back at her with a pitying gaze, she knew he wouldn’t. He would not fight fire with fire.
He was nothim.
And Rian never would be. Rian would rather put out the fire than let it burn everything down. But Rian didn’t understand that sometimes things had to burn to the ground before one could rebuild.
“The game of politics is ruthless, Kalisandre. Sometimes people get hurt; sometimes we have to hurt people.” The corner of his lip flicked upward, and he picked up his notes. “It is not for the faint of heart.”
As Rian stepped past her, Kallie stood frozen, jaw agape.
