He squeezed my hand.
"Whatever's happening with Jesse… with the princes… don't lose yourself in it."
"I haven't," I said, a little too quickly.
"You have," he said gently. "You just don't see it yet."
I stared at him. "And you do?"
"I've known you longer than they have," he said simply. "I know what you were before all this. What they're making you become — I'm not sure I like it."
That stung. "Then maybe I should leave. Maybe I'm not cut out for this court and its lies and politics and power games."
"I didn't say that."
"Didn't have to."
Luke's gaze didn't waver. "You're still the strongest person I know. But strength doesn't mean swallowing every wound. Or being someone you're not just to survive."
I looked away, throat tight. "I don't know who I am anymore."
"Then find out," he said. "Before they decide for you."
I closed my eyes.
For the first time in days, the tears came freely.
And Luke, despite the pain in his body, squeezed my hand again.
