My breath shudders as I stare at him. It suddenly all makes sense. The attraction. The connection. The familiarity. I was so easily drawn to him because deep down I knew him, recognized him, remembered him. He was familiar to me. And now my father’s murderer is going to murder me. We stare at each other, and I see the boy who’s been the king’s instrument of death his entire life, commanded and controlled to be a killer. He was made this way. Made to mirror the monster his father is—was. But that doesn’t make him any less a murderer.
