The woman slowly lowers her son to the ground. It’s only then I notice he’s wearing tiny knitted mittens, despite the warm weather.
“Olin,” his mother gently tugs the gloves from his fingers. “You know the thing Mama told you not to do?”
The little boy nods solemnly.
“Well, now is a special time, and I need you to show this nice lady and man.”
He looks at us cautiously, his dark hair bouncing with each movement.
“It’s okay?” he confirms with his mother. Her hands are shaking, but she musters a smile.
“It’s okay,” she repeats.
The boy lifts his little hand, flexing his fingers, and they start to glow.
A golden, shining light rises up from his palm, growing brighter and brighter until I can scarcely look at it, the sight burning golden rings into my retinas. I know that kind of light—have seen Morgana conjure it a hundred times.
Understanding floods through me.
“He’s solari,” Corrin says, beating me to it.
Sophos nods, gesturing to Ettia.
“That’s enough now, Olin,” she says, bending down to take hold of his free hand. “No more.”
With a disappointed pout, the boy drops his arm, the celestial light fading. His mother quickly wrestles the mittens back on him as Sophos speaks.
“I tried to hide them in the northwilds, but even that area has become unsafe,” Sophos says. “The people are alert to the slightest hint of heresy.”
“Isn’t ityourjob to root out heresy too?” I ask. My voice is harsh, because even with this interesting new piece of the puzzle, I can’t bring myself to trust this man. What I really want to do is ask him why he hasn’t slaughtered his nephew as his master would surely want him to, but I bite my tongue for the child’s sake.
“I’ve come to realize that many of the Temple’s teachings are too black and white,” Sophos says carefully, glancing at his sister. “And some of the things the Grand Bearer would have us believe are entirely false. Buildings like this are proof that the original Ethirans saw no crime in being solari.”
I scoff, shaking my head. “As iftheywere so much better than Caledon? They still went to war—still killed—for their ridiculous beliefs.”
Sophos flinches, and I feel a surge of satisfaction. He doesn’t like it when I call his religion ridiculous. Despite everything, he still believes.
“I don’t think the princess would want this man as an ally, Corrin,” I say coldly.
Fear makes Sophos’s face go pale, and he waves his hand. The air changes, and his sister looks confused. He’s thrown up a barrier of silence between them and us.
“Wait, please,” he says, his voice suddenly hoarse. “I have an offer.”
Corrin moves closer to me. “I think we should hear him out, Damia,” he murmurs.
I don’t bother lowering my voice when I reply, letting Sophos hear every word. “The man’s still a crazed fundamentalist; he just wants to have his cake and eat it too, now his family’s involved.”
Corrin gives me a long, steady look, his bright eyes boring into mine.
“Lots of people end up on the right side for selfish reasons,” he says. “That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t accept their help, or that they can’t change for the better if we show them a little trust.”
I know he’s not just talking about Sophos. A few months ago, I would have never believed Corrin if he’d offered to leave Hallowbane and put himself at risk for this cause. Maybe he wouldn’t have believed it himself. Yet here we are.
“Fine,” I huff out, swinging around to focus on Sophos again. “What is this offer?”
“The princess and I may not see eye to eye on everything,” Sophos says. “But I know we agree on a few key matters. First, that solari are not heretics. I know that my nephew did not steal his powers from anyone, much less from the gods, and it is my shame that I did not see through the lie sooner.”
“Generous of you,” I mutter, and Corrin nudges me in the side with his elbow.
