Trophonios put down his glass, then folded his hands in his lap. “Allow me to tell you the story of another male, a younger male, who was so certain of his own decision that he was blind to the consequences.
“The day I worked out the formula for Delirium was simultaneously the best and worst day of my life. Though I didn’t realize it was the worst until much, much later. Willem tried to warn me, but?—”
“Willem?” Tristan asked. He’d never heard Trophonios mention the name before.
“My husband.” A sad smile crept across Trophonios’s face. “My conscience.”
“What happened to him?”
“The same fate that awaits us all, Creator willing,” Trophonios murmured. “A peaceful goodbye at the end of a long, well-lived life.” He cleared his throat and continued, “But decades before that, he was the sole individual whispering in my ear that Delirium maynotbe the miraculous solution that I thought it was. I couldn’t be bothered to listen, of course. The arrogance of youth, and all that.
“No, Ialonewould fix what was broken in the world. I would facilitate peace between the species. End all the senseless killing of humans during emotion feedings and their violent retaliations. I thought surely, once the human and Fae leaders discovered what I’d achieved, that if each side gave just a little bit, we could share this world as Adelphinae intended.”
Trophonios sat back, his attention drawn out the window by the buoyant laughter. “What I wasnotprepared for was Leonin Erabis using my invention to subjugate an entire species.” Long-simmering anger filled Trophonios’s eyes. “Your father forged my knowledge into the chains in which he bound the humans. And I was so blinded by my need to succeed, by thecertaintyof my path, that I failed to see what was right in front of me.”
“And what was that?”
“That those with immense power will do anything to cling to it. And that abundance does not guarantee generosity. Willem was only smug about the whole thing for a year or two.”
Tristan chuckled softly before his brows furrowed. “But you must not believeallleaders are like that? Otherwise, what are we fighting for?”
“No, Prince. I do not believe all leaders are like that. In fact, it’s those who crave power the least that often wield it best.”
“If you’re talking about me?—”
Trophonios huffed a genial laugh. “Of course I’m talking about you. This whole speech was intended for you. Didn’t think I could have made that any more obvious.”
Tristan echoed the laughter, holding out his empty tumbler for another round. “What makes you think I don’t want to be a leader?”
Trophonios shook his head. “It’s not that I think you don’t want it. It’s that I can tell it’s a burden you wish to share. Leonin, for all his faults, was similar. Had a team of advisers whose counsel he sought regularly. Unfortunately, a few spoke in poisonous tongues and your father, swayed by their loyalty, often went along with them.”
“You speak as if you knew him well,” Tristan said, not without a hint of heartache. But whatever filial affection he’d held for his father had been blasted apart by his exile, leaving only hatred in its wake.
Trophonios continued, “I met him when he was a young leader during the war. A bit different than the male who sired you, one tainted by his own power and the greed of his Imperial court. There were two sides to him. It seems as though you’ve gotten his best qualities while your brother…” Trophonios trailed off, taking a thoughtful sip of his drink. “Power corrupts, is my point. Unless one has the proper checks and balances in place—and is willing to accept them.”
Tristan sniffed. “And what makes you think I’m capable of that?”
Trophonios’s eyes gleamed. “I knew it the moment I heard you’d Turned a human. To love across species signals an open heart. A willingness to accepteveryonewho populates this planet. Ione herself is evidence that you will be a great leader.”
Tristan ran a hand through his hair. “How did you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Let go of the guilt. Stop being haunted by the unintended consequences of your decisions.”
“You planning on making some bad decisions?” Trophonios smiled, then tapped his chest, right over his heart. “You do whatyou just said. You let it go. You forgive yourself. If you spend too much time fretting over the past, your future will never find you.”
Tristan grimaced, pitching forward and resting his forearms on his knees. “I don’t want to hurt Ione.”
Trophonios nodded, swirling his tumbler against the table. “What would hurt her more? For you to reject her now, or for you to keep her eternally bound to a male whose heart yearns for another?”
Tristan pulled upright. “How could you possibly?—”
“I’ve lived nearly seven centuries, Tristan. Heartache is an old friend.”
Tristan sighed, collapsing back against his chair. “But if I don’t choose Ione, this world fades into darkness.A new Delphine will rise to light the way. That’s what the prophecy said.”
Trophonios cocked an eyebrow at Tristan. “That may be what it said. But is that what it means?” Trophonios took a slow sip of his aguaver. “We learned much from the Compendium. Even more than we’d anticipated. We’re still trying to discern how the wards were created. But wehavelearned how to dismantle them. There’s a single substance on this planet that can do it. The same one that can deactivate that tracking device you brought me.”
