“Is it so bad, to care?” The gods knew he’d been struggling to do so himself. “I don’t know how to,” she growled. Ridiculous. An outright lie. Perhaps it was because of the high likelihood that he’d be collared again at Morath, perhaps it was because he was a king who’d left his kingdom in an enemy’s grip, but Dorian found himself saying, “You do care. You know it, too. It’s what makes you so damn scared of all this.” Her golden eyes raged, but she said nothing. “Caring doesn’t make you weak,” he offered. “Then why don’t you heed your own advice?” “I care.” His temper rose to meet hers. And he
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