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I stared at her, my mind reeling with conflicting emotions. How could someone who had done such terrible things also be capable of such kindness? It made no sense to me.
Mirijana reached out and placed a hand on mine. “I know, Kael. It’s difficult. But you have to remember, the Marshal is just a man. He’s been given a situation that none of us would want. He’s doing what he can to survive, just like we are.”
“Some of us manage to do it without killing innocent people, though.” I gritted out, pushing away the memory of driving my knife in between the guard’s ribs. I’d wanted to escape my thoughts, not add to them.
She sighed, dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve. “I’m here anytime you want to talk. Alright?”
I nodded, and she gave me a soft smile, forgiving my stubbornness. I needed more help if I was going to do this mission and I couldn’t find it with Mirijana.
“I’m ready to return now.” I smoothed my hands down my skirt to keep them from shaking. “Can you send for Kadir? I think I’ll need more clothing after all.”
She beamed at me, taking my request as acceptance. “Of course. I’ll take you back right now.”
I gave her a faint smile. All the while, a plan began to form in the back of my head.
Chapter 17
Theron
Istaredatmytorn hands, the shame of what I had done staining them, and no amount of blood could wash them clean. Why did I let Rhazien use me like that? How could I have become the executioner of innocent people? I tried to take comfort in Varzorn’s hint that I’d return to the Niothe, but it was still not enough, not with Kael’s accusations ringing in my ears.
The thought of waging war on those who had no magic cut through me like a dagger. Who was I to decide someone else’s fate? In a split second, I had to choose life or death for them - something they had no control over. The image of those rolling heads flashed through my mind once more. Even if they were Remnants, they deserved to live their lives free from torment and persecution. We weren’t better than them for all the war we’d waged. We were arguably worse.
It wasn’t fair—none of this was—but no matter how much I wished things were different, there was nothing I could do to change it. All I was able to do was wallow in my self-disgust and try to survive.
My body tensed as the door to my suite opened. Had Kael returned? Or Raenisa?
Herrath entered the room, the healing plate in his hand. He was the last person I wanted to see right now, but I couldn’t muster the vitriol needed to toss him out.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice hollow.
Herrath stepped closer and held out the plate. “I thought you might need this after what happened earlier.”
Taking the metal disc, a pang of guilt for the way I had treated him in the past hit me. I pushed it away, reminding myself of Calyx. Herrath was not to be trusted. I placed the healing plate over my hand and called on my power, funneling it through the electrum and opal, focusing on healing myself. This act. This ability right here was our most important part of battle. To heal a trained warrior, even from the brink of death. The Remnants bred faster than we did, but while we had magic, there was nothing that could stop the Elves from dominating the world. It was only a matter of time.
“There’s no shame in doing what your family asks of you,” Herrath said, his voice calm. His complexion was more sallow than usual, exhaustion painting circles under his eyes that he didn’t bother healing. A touch of bronze would have sorted him out, but he wasn’t one to waste magic. Unlike Raenisa, who was reaching for a piercing at the slightest provocation.
My anger rose at his words. “There’s plenty of shame in killing innocent people, Herrath. Don’t justify it.”
Herrath’s expression hardened. “We have Houses to uphold, Theron. We can’t just throw them away because you feel guilty.”
”Iamguilty,“ I said through gritted teeth. “And I’m disgusted with myself. And you, and everyone else, who supports this madness.”
Herrath’s eyes narrowed. “We’re all living in a world of another’s making. Understanding that, believing that, will keep you alive.”
I shook my head. “I don’t want to kill people for no reason. And I don’t believe in using slaves as tools.”
Herrath’s voice grew icy. “You don’t have to like it, but you have to follow orders. That’s what it means to be a first-born son.”
“And what about being the head of your house?” I shot back. “You’re the last Tavador son. I’m the last Axidor. Doesn’t that mean anything to you? Doesn’t it mean we can make changes?”
A flicker of doubt passed through his eyes before Herrath’s face twisted in anger. “You’re just trying to absolve yourself of guilt, Theron. But you can’t run away from what you’ve done. You have to live with it.”
“I’m aware of that,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “But it doesn’t make it any easier.”
Herrath’s expression softened. “I know it’s hard, Theron. But you have to be strong. Do what’s necessary to protect your family and our people.”
“Easy for you to say. You never stand up for yourself. Letting Raura boss you around like a bitch.”
