“Tell me the truth.”
Kaelira’s voice echoed through the ancient throne room.
There was no anger left in it.
Only exhaustion.
Only years of unanswered questions.
She stood before the man who claimed to be her father, her silver eyes locked onto his.
“I don’t want another prophecy.”
“I don’t want another secret.”
“I’ve spent my entire life chasing pieces of a story that never fit together.”
She swallowed the lump in her throat.
“So this time…”
“Tell me everything.”
The Enemy King—no, the man who had called himself her father—looked at her for a long, silent moment.
Then he dismissed every guard from the throne room.
Even Ronan was asked to leave.
“I’ll be outside,” Ronan said softly, looking at Kaelira with concern.
She gave him a small nod.
When the great doors closed behin
