“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Varius said, “but is he not powerful enough to take you on head-to-head, even here? I thought that was the whole reason no one rebelled against him.”
“Oh, he is,” Theira said without offense. “The Sorcerer Ascendant can draw on enough power to defeat anyone in a head-to-head battle. He just wouldn’t come through unscathed, and I could drain him enough that another sorceress would finish the job. Which I would, and they would, and he knows that. That’s why you never see him on the battlefield.”
“Ah. I’d always thought it was an aversion to doing his own work when he could force it on others and cull his competition.”
“It’s that as well, of course. But Korossia needs ever more resources to support the level of sorcery and luxury those at the top have become accustomed to—that is, ostensibly, the whole reason Korossia is in this war. But if there are fewer high-tier sorcerers to sustain, more of those resources go to Tychon.”
“Making him more powerful with every year that passes without lifting a finger. Elegant.”
“Quite.”
Varius grunted, leaning back in his seat and ripping off a piece of bread for himself. He might be fully dressed today, but even the man’s forearms were unreasonable, their strength so visibly evident even at rest, unlike her own. “Not so different from the empire, really, although there are a few more hands at the head to split the rewards. They can’t justify the taxes that keep them in luxury without war, and a holy war against evil sorcery unites all the disparate nations so they don’t rebel against the wealthy few.”
“A tale as old as time.”
He sighed. “It’s no wonder neither side will end this disaster. The ones with all the power are too invested to stop without taking a hit themselves, which they’ll never do.”
Varius frowned down at the remains of his soup—how had he eaten that so fast? Soldier habits, she supposed—which Theira took heart from. He was brooding on the problem now, and that was a big step up from only yesterday, even if she wasn’t sure what had changed for him besides some rest.
Then he said, “So if you ever leave your territory here, Tychon will send sorceresses to hunt you.”
Ah. Not brooding, planning. Ever the strategist.
“Yes. But I’m in no rush to go anywhere.”
She’d traveled plenty during the war. Seen sights, burned them. Theira was happy to stay in this place she’d carved for herself.
Now, anyway. Later—
“I don’t like you being trapped here, though,” Varius said. He ripped his bread precisely, a fraction of the force she knew he could exert.
It thrilled her, his control.
And made her want to break it.
Perhaps later, once she had enough energy to do something about an unleashed Varius, though she was feeling more energized every minute in his presence. Their banter across battlefields—as she surprised him with a new kind of sorcerous trap and got to deliver a prepared quip that had him rolling his eyes in amusement even as he struggled to free all his soldiers, or he surprised her by neatly avoiding it and teasing her mercilessly for underestimating him as she was forced to rapidly improvise new defenses—had always been something she unreasonably looked forward to; she might have expected what he would do to her in closer quarters.
“There’s no way for sorcerers to surround me,” she assured him.
“I meant you should be free to go where you choose.” Before Theira had to think of a response to that breathtaking statement, from a former enemy of all people, he continued, “If Caius Sobanus and his ilk were really clever they’d have reached out to you about joining forces once you’d gotten away to end this. But there’s too much bigotry in the empire for them to have even considered it.”
“Be fair, I have also killed quite a lot of your people,” Theira said, amused, but then let her smile fall to meet his gaze seriously. “And I don’t want the Aurelian Empire to win the war, either. I wantboth of themto stop their aggression. The nightmare needs to end for everyone.”
An impossibly bold idea. People on both sides had been executed for suggesting less.
Varius just raised his eyebrows. “Do you really think that’s possible?”
He couldn’t even imagine it.
But he was asking. Theira returned, “Do you believe your people deserve to rest?”
“Yes,” Varius said without hesitation. “And so do you.”
She had her freedom. But as his steady gaze held hers, Theira realized that for Varius, it wasn’t enough. He wanted more—forher.
Her chest tightened again as she leaned forward across the table. “Then so doyou.”
Varius made a face. “You know, I felt that coming and still walked into it.”
