“Why? Why would you hurt him, Arvelle?”
“I didn’t mean to. You have to know that, Jorah. I didn’t know it was him.”
He’s already walking down the corridor, tears streaming down his face.
“Jorah.” I swallow as he goes still. My eyes burn, and I can barely get the words out. “Pl-please don’t tell anyone. About my power.”
With a slow shake of his head, Jorah keeps walking.
MY HEART ISheavy in my chest as I make my way to my new room in the imperius quarters. Jorah’s devastated, ashen face remains in my mind, until it’s all I can see.
One day I’ll explain what happened. One day, when I no longer need to worry about Rorrik’s potential retaliation. Nothing I say can ever make up for killing Tiberius Cotta, but even if Jorah never speaks to me again, I have to prevent Rorrik from learning he was spying.
I’ve seen what he does to spies.
Pushing the thought away, I stare down at my shaking hands.
How did I create water to counter Rorrik’s fire? How—
Fire. Fire is a sigilmarked power, and yet Rorrik can use it.
And Tiernon didn’t seem at all surprised. Is it … is it some kind of shared gift with Rorrik’s wyvern?
I open the door to my room. It’s similar to Tiernon’s, only smaller.The fireplace is calling to me, urging me to curl up in front of it and block out the world.
“Arvelle.”
I stiffen, slamming a hand against my racing heart as I turn. I’d forgotten Leon was meeting me here.
He raises an eyebrow at my reaction, but his gaze darts away. “I have something for you.”
I gesture for him to follow me in, and he steps inside, closing my door behind him.
“Nice room.” The words are gruff, and Leon shifts on his feet. Is he … nervous?
“Tiernon insisted I move in with the imperius. Do you want to sit?”
He shakes his head, steel-gray eyes finally meeting mine. They’re clear, cool, and empty of the ire that usually fills them when he looks at me.
“I have something to give you. Something I should have given you a long time ago.”
A pause, and then he seems to come to some decision, stuffing his hand into his tunic pocket. He holds a piece of parchment out to me.
“Kas … Kassia wrote this. For you. Before the Sands. If anything happened to her, I was supposed to give it to you. I haven’t read it. But I didn’t give it to you either. I ignored my daughter’s last wishes, and I have to live with that. I’m giving it to you now.” He thrusts it toward me.
A hot ache burns through my chest and up my throat. I wrote her a letter too. A letter I asked Carrick to give to her if I …
“Thank you.” My hand trembles as I take the parchment.
“I was wrong. For years, I was wrong. Kassia would punch me in the nose if she knew how I treated you. I blamed you for her death, when Iknewyou would have done anything you could to stop it. When I knewIwas the one to blame.”
“You weren’t,” I whisper. My lips are numb, but I need to say this much at least. “Leon, the moment Galia Volker stepped into the arena …”
“Kassia was dead.” Leon gives a sharp nod. “I can see that now. I can see you both, fighting to first blood, while Volker was fighting to kill. I see it in my nightmares, every night. There was no way for you to get across that arena in time. And Kassia …” He shakes his head. “Years of training and she fell apart in the arena. I’ll never understandit. And then I was weak. I was so angry at her for dying in such a stupid way, I lashed out at her best friend. The woman she considered a sister. The woman I’d considered another daughter.” He glances away. “I lied when I said I came to this place for Kassia. And when I said I stayed to help you for her. I did it for you.”
Tears flood my eyes, and Leon takes a wary step back.
I let out a watery laugh and he sighs, gesturing to the letter. “I have no excuse for not giving that to you. If I had … if I had, maybe you’d have mourned properly. Maybe we wouldn’t be here. You might’ve married, started a new life.”
