A hollow pit opened in my stomach as I pulled the lid off the box. I knew what was inside before I looked, but at the sight of the blue silk gloves nestled inside atop a bed of rose-colored paper, I had to repress a scream of fury. Seizing the box, I hurled it across the room, sending the gloves and fancy paper skittering across the floor. I turned, ready to strike the vase of flowers, and stopped.

I was angry because Razel had made me feel powerless, and that was exactly what she wanted. The bright-red flowers, the gloves, the way they’d been given as a present—it was all posturing, a power play meant to make me feel weak.

But I wasn’t weak.

Strength comes in many forms, Auma had said. She was right.

Strength was Caliza taking on the weight of a kingdom without a single complaint. Strength was Kiva’s willingness to give up everything she’d ever known to protect someone she loved. Strength was Caylus’s curious mind, Auma’s unwavering determination, and Ericen’s struggle to remain honorable in a kingdom that had forgotten the meaning.

Every day, they fought, and every day, they were strong. And I could do the same.

I’d worn gloves out of fear and shame, but I never should have. There had been nothing shameful about my pain, nothing I’d needed to hide or hide from. I’d been afraid to face what the pain had meant, that my life as I’d known it was over, that I had to choose a new path.

Kiva had done everything she could to help me see that, and I’d thought after everything, I’d finally understood. But I hadn’t shaken my past. I’d still let my fear control me. I had let fire send my heart racing and small setbacks crush my hope.

No more. I refused to let Razel control me, to let her make me feel powerless. I wasn’t powerless. I had survived Ronoch, and I had survived the loss and the depression thick as mud that came after it, and I would keep surviving them.

Don’t let her silence the storm inside you.

I clenched my fists, thinking of the way Caylus had depicted me in his drawing. Proud. Strong. A force of steel and arrows, a crow at my back.

I would not let her break me.

I am more than my emotions, more than my depression and fear.

Fire and I would never be friends, but I wouldn’t let it or the horrible memories it represented hold power over me any longer.

“I am more,” I promised myself.

Reluctantly, I gathered up the gloves. As much as I’d have liked to drop them out the window, I would wear them. Not only to placate Razel but also to show her that I could.