His eyes smolder with anger, and his mouth thins. “You know nothing of my family.”
“I know your father murdered thousands,” I snap out.
“My father was a monster.” Scorn singes Hector’s tone, hatred he doesn’t try to disguise.
“Do you not think destroying thousands would also make you a monster?”
Hector stands and slams his goblet against the table. “It is justice. I will kill those who have tried to destroy my people.”
“What about the Carnelians?”
“They are desperate for protection from the Hematites. So, I sent ten legions to protect them.”
“And in exchange, you will rule them?” The words scrape against my tongue.
Hector nods. “Their chieftain remains chieftain, but they pay a tax to me, and their warriors join my army.”
“Why do they need you?” I ask, trying to understand the Carnelians more. “They have water magic.”
“Magic among the Carnelians is rare,” he says with a wave of his hand, as if I should have known that. “I know what I’m doing, Sol. I know what Tarrobane needs. I have studied all the tribes. Have you?”
I wasn’t interested in the politics between the tribes. I was too busy training to avenge Mother.
“Besides, the Hematites are a constant threat,” Hector says. “They have been raiding Carnelian territory for months. The Carnelians need protection, and they see me as their best chance at survival.”
I shake my head, the weight of my sadness settling in my chest. “So, you’re justifying your desire for power by claiming to protect people?”
“I’m not claiming. Iamprotecting them. And Tarrobane. And my own people.”
“All by conquering the other tribes?” It’s impossible to hide my anger from him. It flows through my words and lingers in the air.
Hector stands tall, his eyes blazing with determination and conviction as he speaks. “It’s not subjugating. It’s victory over the armies of my enemies. It’s earning respect and proving superior power. Only then will peace be achieved. Do you not want peace?”
Superior power? Does he think those who have power always do what is right for the powerless?
He’s wrong. So very wrong.
But he’s right about the turmoil. Over the last few months, I have learned the truth about the Tarrobane tribes. None of them are perfect. They all have flaws. Even the Kyanites. And none of them are blameless in the violence that has spread throughout the land in these recent decades.
His last question rings in my ears.“Do you not want peace?”
“Yes, I want peace.” If only I were capable of changing things. “But not through war and bloodshed. That’s not the type of harmony I want.”
“It’s the only way to ensure our survival. When the gods took our magic, they left us vulnerable and weak. We cannot afford to be weak again.” His words are a roar through the air, an avalanche of determination, a river of strength that sweeps away all uncertainty in its wave.
He’s unbendable, unbreakable in his pursuit. I will not be able to stop him.
“What kind of survival is it if it means you must kill thousands of innocent people? Is that what you want, Hector?” My questions emerge as an anguished whisper that hangs in the air like a frozen cry amid a raging storm.
Will he hear my pleas? My desire to heal all his cracked edges? To mend those scars on his heart? To stop him from avenging his family?
Bitterness twists Hector’s mouth as he speaks. “They are not innocent. You saw what happened in Tarra.”
My shoulders droop as my heart sinks to the marble floor. He didn’t hear me.
“So, you would visit that same devastation on others?”
“You would have us do nothing?” Frustration flares across his face. “I saw you fight in Astarobane, Sol. And you stood with us in the battle after Tarra. You are no coward. When your village was attacked, and your mother was slaughtered, you wanted vengeance. Why do you deny us ours?” He pauses, walks a few steps away and takes a deep breath. “I will not stand by while my people are slaughtered.”
