Claire's POV

Grace crouched to meet my eyes. Up close, the frail sickroom act was dead. Her mouth formed a cruel line.

"Wait, wait," she cooed, raising a hand. "You just woke up from a coma. Don't get worked up."

"Keep calling me Grace." Her voice stayed smooth. "That name has opened every door in this palace. Why drop it now?"

"Those were his guards outside your room," I spat, holding her gaze. "Damian handpicked every man. He'll know something's wrong the second he—"

"His guards?" A smirk tugged her lip. "Come on. You really think they belonged to him?"

She chuckled. "Guess I gave you too much credit. His...