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I sink into the chair on the opposite side of the desk.

“I’ve been thinking,” he says. “About something you said last year.”

“Oh?”

“When we were traveling to the Watch, we stopped by one of the old WatchGuard towers outside the Dead Twins. When the nomads attacked us, you didn’t run away or fight back.”

Memories of that day still haunt me. Seeing their gaunt faces, living in old city ruins from an ancient long-ago world. Desperate for help. I know that feeling of a hollowed stomach more than I care to admit. “I remember. They didn’t seem too fond of Watchers.”

Castor huffs. “No, they did not. But instead of pushing back, you advocated.” He shifts. “You gave them our rations.”

I nod slowly, not quite understanding where this conversation is going.

“I asked my father. They stopped sending WatchGuards to that area. And you know what he said?”

I shrug.

“Said we just don’t have enough recruits. Said that in order to protect the many, some must be sacrificed.”

“Why is there always a sacrifice? Always someone suffering at the hands of the powerful.”

Castor sits up straight. “Exactly. There shouldn’t be. I… I have an idea to make it better. Offer the nomads food and a place to stay.”

“Castor, that’s amazing, but how?”

He reaches into his desk and pulls out a silver pin, noting his rank as Commander in the Watch. “I’m going to use my privilege. We will need far more numbers if we plan to match the Southern Continent’s numbers, and I think I have the perfect new recruits.”

“The nomads!”

He nods, blue eyes twinkling with purpose. “I’m going to add recruiting to my new list of duties.”

While I’m relieved there will be another option for the nomads to serve in our military, I swallow down the guilt that sits heavy in my stomach, knowing exactly why the Jord broke from the treaty. It’s my fault.

There that thought comes again! Don’t think that. It’s not your fault, Akemi.

I beg to differ.

Shut up.

“Are you still expected to go to the front even though you are a professor now?” I ask, trying to deflect from my inner turmoil.

At that, Castor laughs. “You know my father. Ever the high expectations.”

I understand. At least a little. Being the son of the Elder Superior of the Watch would come at a price. One that Castor pays repeatedly, despite his achievements. In fact, it seems that the more he achieves, the higher his father’s expectations become.

Castor is a strong man, but he is not a war machine to be used until he breaks. I can see it in the way his shoulders curve in, the lines between his brows. He is being used by his father, stretching his talents and unwavering loyalty unreasonably.

But every band will snap when stretched too far.

I start to reach for his hand, but then stop myself. “We… better get started.”

He shakes his head. “Right. Yes, your lessons. Have you been able to reach the web yet?”

“No,” I admit, sad that this block has prevented me from reaching the stars. “I’m ready to try again. I was thinking we could go outside? I have an idea.”

Castor guides me to a balcony outside the classroom I hadn’t realized was there. We are facing away from the front of the castle. The crevasse of Shadow Pass sits dark in the distance. “Sorry there aren’t any chairs. Here.” He takes off his professor robe and tosses it on the stoney ground. “This’ll have to do for now until I get some pieces brought in.”

“Thanks.” I take a seat gingerly, taking care not to get his robe dirty.