Ilith had a point. Unfortunately, such an action would mark her as possibly insane and definitely dangerous. As powerful as Ilith was, even she would be vulnerable to the threat that came with a mob of people crying for her blood.
There was also the fact that those closest to Tate weren’t as invulnerable. Maybe if it was just her, she would consider eliminating those threats before they could ever develop. But then again, probably not.
Something Jax had said in his last message to her made her think she’d done exactly that once upon a time. They all knew how that had ended up. Tate, betrayed, and left to sleep away the centuries.
Rather than repeat her old mistakes, Tate would prefer to make new ones.
Which was why there would be no preemptive killing. Ilith could wait until this new Obsidian Lord acted against them.Thenthe dragon could go rip and rend to her heart’s content.
Before long, Tate once again found her path obstructed. This time by a man wearing the robes of a guardian.
“Grandmaster Keel.” Tate’s voice wasn’t exactly welcoming, but it wasn’t hostile either.
To say her relationship with the guardians was ambiguous and poorly defined was an understatement. In truth, you could say she was the reason they existed. Without her, the Saviors may never have stepped up to protect the rest. That much she had been able to piece together from her fragmented memories.
Not that most of civilization would ever know, nor did she want them to.
Keel knew because he had access to records not available to any but the most highly trusted among them. The man standing next to him, Vale, a fellow guardian in Keel’s order, probably suspected but he was smart enough to keep such suspicions to himself.
“Lady Winters,” Keel said formally.
The grandmaster had a face that inspired trust. Silver dusted his hair making him seem wise yet stern.
Tate didn’t immediately respond, her gaze moving over his shoulder to land on Vale who watched Tate with a neutral expression.
At first glance Vale appeared average in every way. His face was plain, his hair and eyes a nondescript brown. Loose robes made it impossible to tell whether he was fit or out of shape.
If he ever committed a crime, people would have a hard time describing him because of how average he looked.
Only his eyes hinted at the sharp intellect behind his bland appearance. He was an observant little bastard. A fact Tate wished she’d known much earlier in their acquaintance.
Keel had been smart to assign him to accompany Tate to Silvain. Now, his disciple knew much more than he should without Keel ever having to break his promise to keep her connection to the Saviors a secret. She couldn’t even blame Keel because it was her actions that had guided his enlightenment.
It was a reminder that Keel hadn’t climbed to his position by playing nice with others. He was every bit the political animal as anyone else in the emperor’s court.
She’d do well to remember that.
“I was wondering if you could spare me a little time this evening. The garden at night is beautiful.” Keel gestured toward the row of open doorways that led out onto the balcony.
Cool air drifted through the opening, a reminder that it wasn’t the season for gazing at flowers. Temperatures that were bearable during the day dropped when the sun disappeared.
Still, Tate couldn’t stem her curiosity. Until now, Keel had asked very little of her, content to let her come to him under her own terms.
“Sure. Why not?”
Might as well figure out what he wanted. She’d been planning a visit soon anyway; he’d just beaten her to the punch.
The trio headed onto the balcony, Roslyn once again trailing. The other woman stopped at the doors as the rest of them continued on, the chilly air embracing them the moment they stepped outside. Tate shivered, grateful her outfit provided her a moderate bit of warmth.
If she’d worn something similar to Tala’s dress, she would have frozen long before Keel got to his point.
Although chilly, the night was beautiful. The sky clear and bright with the planet’s three moons shining. One of the moons was full while the others were waning, no more than crescents in this part of the month.
Tate’s gaze dropped from the night sky to the garden where a carpet of flowers blossomed in neat rows, glistening under the moonlight. Under these circumstances the flowers looked white. Tate was curious if she got closer whether she would find some color in those petals. Either way, they left a feeling of tranquility and stillness.
“Those flowers are called the emperor’s serenity,” Keel explained.
“It’s a little early for flowers, isn’t it?”
