I fold my arms against my abdomen and take a shallow breath. I hate that this is so jarring—and the worst part is that itshouldn’tbe. It shouldn’t be jarring at all. Rocco was one of the king’s personal guards, and I used to hatethemjust as much. He was probably on the dais during the failed execution that led to revolution.
Rocco has probably been there for alotof executions.
Well, these thoughts are going nowhere good.
I have to unwind my emotion. He’s also saved my life. Corrick’s life. Harristan’s life. Quint’s life. He might be risking hisownlife to walk at my side on the way to Rian’s palace. I doubt he strapped on all those weapons for show.
Rocco glances at me, and I can tell he’s watching me work out thoughts in my head. He must know the night patrol killed my parents if he was there for my first conversation with King Harristan. An odd tension hums in the air between us. We walk for the longest time in silence.
Eventually, he speaks. “It couldn’t have been me. I’ve been in the palace guard since—”
“No—I know that.”
“It was just a job, Miss Tessa.”
“The night patrol hurt people.” I keep my eyes on the path. “It shouldn’t be just ajob.”
“Smugglers hurt people, too.”
“My parents never hurt anyone.Ididn’t hurt anyone.” As I say the words, I remember the king’s even tone when I challenged him this way.
It’s the same to the night patrol.
Rocco screws up his face a little, considering what I’ve said, and I expect a similar response, but that’s not what he says. “I know from your conversation with the king that you were an outlaw, but you weren’t a smuggler. You were stealing medicine for the good of the people, right?”
“Yes.” I clench my hands on the straps of my pack.
“Well, most smugglers weren’t doing that. They were stealing it formoney. Money and power and control. It’s rare that anyone wasin the Hold for trying to steal medicine just to stay alive. Maybe some were, but most of them werecriminals.Notkindhearted,notgiving,nottrying to save a life. Smugglers and thieves who’d cheat and steal, then extort desperate people.Criminals, Miss Tessa. Just because you had good intentions doesn’t meaneveryonedoes. You’ve met the king yourself, so you must know there would be a reason he set the penalties so high.”
My jaw is tight, my eyes fixed ahead. I want to reject this out of turn, but I can’t. I’m trying not to think of the multitude of scars on Corrick’s body, the way he once said,Sometimes I try to ask questions and they have other ideas.I’m trying not to think of the rapists and murderers I’ve heard about in passing, the ones committed to the Hold for stealing medicine in the middle of heinous crimes.
And I remember the atrocities committed by the rebels themselves. I saw the bodies left strewn along the cobblestone streets of the Royal Sector, leaking blood and viscera on the night of the revolt. I watched Lochlan himself stand among the flames, ordering his rebels to shoot a consul while the king and I begged them to stop.
Rocco keeps going. “And not every patrolman is a brutal lout just waiting for the chance to take someone down either. I certainly wasn’t. They’re just people doing a job. Just men and women trying to put a roof over their heads like everyone else. If you’re going to judge them, why not judge the guards whoprotectthe shipments instead of handing Moonflower out to everyone they pass?They’rejust doing what they’re paid for. Or what about the harvesters working the fields? They could be stuffing their pockets with Moonflower, handing out petals when they get home. But no, they’realsodoing their job, putting the petals where they belong,then going home to a hot meal. Is everyone supposed to risk their livelihoods? Their families?”
“Yes!” I snap. “That’s exactly what my parents did!”
He stares right back at me and says nothing.
He doesn’t have to. The message is clear.
My parents risked themselves—and they died.
I risked myself—and I was caught.
I take a deep breath and let it out. All these years and I still—still!—don’t know if what they were doing was worth it. I don’t even know if my years with Corrick as Wes and Tessa were worth it.
I’m trappedhere. Corrick is dead. How many people did we really save? Did it matter, or did we just delay the inevitable?
“I just feel like people should do the right thing when they have the chance,” I say quietly. Then I scowl and kick at the rocks. “Ugh. Corrick always used to tell me that’s naive.”
Rocco glances over again. “Expectingpeople to do the right thing is probably naive. Wanting them to isn’t.” He hesitates. “And what we think isthe right thingcan obviously change.”
I look at him sharply. “No it can’t.”
“It can’t?” he says. “You snuck into the palace to kill the king—and then you found yourself helping him.” He gestures at the path ahead of us. “You’re quite literally on a journey to negotiate on his behalf.”
Well, that smacks me in the face.
