“We can disavow her of such nonsense after she saves you,” Rhiain retorted. “Sesto, find her. Make sure she stays. Offer however much gold she wants to recant.”
“She won’t want your gold, and nothing she says will save me. Even Taven’s accusation is toothless. The Virtue’s testimony is all they require.” He didn’t bother explaining why, that the Virtues purportedly carried the pure blood of the Seven Sisters, making them representations of their ancestors incarnate. They’d sworn their own vows to uphold truth and honor, and while he’d never heard of anyone executing a Virtue, it didn’t seem out of the question that using a lie to condemn a man to death would be cause.
“Then we’ll pay her more!”
“If she recants now,” Jesstin said, “they’ll excommunicate her for dishonesty, and she knows this. That’s the best she can hope for. There’s nothing more to do, Rhiain. Nothing except hear me.” The clogging emotion returned. “I’ve never thanked you enough for everything you’ve done for me, and it’s too late for all the words I’d need to do it now. I know the reason you didn’t send for Emrys is because his wife has been unwell, so please, tell him he’s always been such a good brother to me. You have all been so good to me.” He looked past her. “Asterin, I wish I had known you were my brother years ago, because I feel so fucking cheated. And Sesto... the friend I never knew just how badly I needed until you were there.” As he spoke, he pondered the things he could never say.
That he wasn’t actually scared at all.
That he was ready to die.
That he’d been ready since the day his world had ended almost a decade ago, after learning the truth of who he was, a truth he could never escape. Not through prayer, through kindness, through work, or through love.
He wasn’t even twenty, and he was so cursed tired already.
And though he was struggling to admit it even to himself, meeting someone like Elloven—someone who saw him, could see him, and not simply what they wished he was or some ideal of who he was supposed to be—only confirmed everything he already knew to be true about himself.
“What I need you all to hear is you all and the kids are the only family I have ever needed, and it’s been enough. I promise you, you’re enough.” Jesstin withdrew from the bars, Rhiain’s teary eyes widening with each step. Shock, betrayal, fear, grief, it was all there, and he couldn’t do a thing about any of it. But years from now, she would remember his words.
“No, this is ludicrous,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “You are not just giving up. We will never give up on you, Jess.”
Asterin kissed the top of her head, nodding at Jesstin. “I’m going to sort this before it goes any further. You’ll be a free man before the day’s full light, Jesstin. Know that.”
Poor Asterin. He’d been a “fixer” his whole life, cleaning up the messes of others.
What Rhiain didn’t know, and Jesstin wasn’t supposed to know, was that Asterin was fully aware of Jesstin’s exploits in Mythgarde. He’d probably allowed it because he understood trying to stop it would lead Jesstin down an even darker path. Damage mitigation, he would have called it, like allowing a criminal to steal smaller bounties to prevent bigger thefts.
Asterin left.
Sesto sighed.
Rhiain’s body lifted in a shudder, followed by a sudden, shrill scream that reverberated off the cavern walls and startled all of them.
“Sorry,” she whispered and then sobbed.
Jesstin hated the way this would break her heart.
He pressed a hand to his chest, because any words would come out fragmented.
Rhiain lifted a shaky hand to her own.
Four guards appeared. “It’s time.”
“Fuck you, you beast,” Rhiain spat, wiping tears on her sleeve. “It’s time when I say it is.”
“We give no special treatment to women in this town, madam. I suggest you come with us.”
“Would you like to chance what happens when you lay hands on a Skylark woman?”
“Go,” Jesstin urged. “Please.”
“Jess—”
“Go, Rhiain. I’m telling you to please just go.”
“I’ll bring this entire realm to its knees before I allow you anywhere near a scaffold.”
Jesstin watched her walk away, knowing his pain was both just beginning and nearly at an end.
