“Murder,” he said, rounding on her. “We use what we have. We make what we don’t. We’re truly not so different,” said Cora, gripping the bars. “We both want the same thing. To be seen as strong. The only difference between you and me is the number of siblings standing in our way to the throne.” “That’s not the only difference, Cora.” “Does it drive you mad, to be the weaker one?” He wrapped his hand around hers, pinning them to the bars of the cell. “I am alive because my brother is strong,” he said coldly. “You are alive only because yours is dead.”
