After the men finish talking, I turn to Jasce, needing to know something. “Why did your father want Mildred’s relic?”
Jasce settles back against his chair with a goblet of wine resting against his thigh. “He wanted to use it to bring back my older brother. He died in battle more than five summers ago, and Jerrod could not accept his death.”
I raise my brow in surprise. “Mildred’s relic can raise the dead?”
“For a short while. Yes.”
A part of me cannot fault Jerrod for wanting to bring back someone he probably missed dearly, but I could never approve of the way he tried to obtain the relic.
If I had that relic, I would bring Mother back just so I could see her again. Talk to her again. Embrace her again.
The thought follows me as everyone leaves, and Hector and I are left alone.
His eyes meet mine across the table. “You were right about Tersah’s flowers, Sol.”
Surprise jolts through me. I wasn’t expecting that. I mean, I hoped to change his mind, but I never thought it would happen this soon. “What changed your mind?”
“Using Bloodstone magic. Watching what it has done to my cousins. Especially Cenric.”
“What has it done to you and to Cenric?”
“It made us more volatile and reckless.” Hector raises his hand to his chest. “I can feel that darkness.”
“Will everyone agree?”
“I will leave them no choice. If they want to cast Bloodstone magic, they will have to use Kyanite magic.”
How ironic. The Kyanites sought to end Bloodstone magic. Now, we will use a part of their magic here. For good. For light to overcome darkness.
I stand, move to Hector, and he pulls me onto his lap. “This will change everything.”
He brings me closer—close enough to smell his familiar scent. “I know, but I am ready and willing to be different than my ancestors.”
His beard tickles my palms as I frame his face and lower my mouth to his, giving myself to him, adoring him, loving him.
He doesn’t know he’s already different.
He’s the spear diving deep into the heart of this land, demanding peace. Soon, the idea of peace will spread out like a wave, rolling over each tribe, each nation, challenging even the most resolute opponents.
* * *
After the meeting, I force myself to walk to Quinn’s tent. To take those steps and tell her the truth. Not because I need her to forgive me. I don’t even have to the right to ask for it, nor will I. But she deserves to know about her brother.
The wind teases her long red hair as she sits outside on a log, sharpening a dagger.
I swallow through the nerves knotting in my throat. “Hello.”
She smiles, her eyes brightening. “Hello, Sol.”
The nerves tighten more and more, but I speak anyway. “I need to tell you something.”
Question flicker behind her stare as she tilts her head to the side, waiting. “All right.”
Strength, Sol.
Strength.
I speak quickly, knowing if I take my time, I won’t be able to say the words. “When I was in Lanvilla, I saw your brother and other slaves. I rescued them, but Jerrod attacked our camp and killed him.”
