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Azura shrugged. “You don’t. It’s not your job to go around breaking plates.” Her lips twitched. “It’smine.” A nudge of her fingers was all it took to send the plate clattering to the floor.

Taly took a breath, wincing as she once again tugged on her aether. The plate landed back on the table with a soft thud—whole.

“You’re still using too much aether for simple spells,” Azura remarked.

Taly ignored her. “So, is that why they’re afraid of us?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well…” Taly snatched the plate when Azura began to reach for it again. “We don’t have the strength of a shadow mage or the offensive abilities of a fire mage; we can’t conjure water, air, or earth to shield ourselves, and our ability to heal our own injuries is limited.”

Taly paused, reaching down to absently pet Calcifer as he curled between her legs. “Yet despite our inherent weaknesses,” she went on, “people fear us. The Dawn Court and the Sanctorum were able to paint all time mages as evil and vicious based on the actions of a single individual. That makes me wonder if they were preying on a fear that already existed.”

“And why do you think they would fear us?” Azura asked, uncharacteristically serious.

“Because…” Taly tilted her head, considering the question—then shrugged. “Because if we can use our magic to save lives, do good, what’s to stop us from using it to cause harm as well? If we can sift through the timelines and break all the right plates, what’s to stop someone from going back and breaking the wrong ones?”

Something finally clicked in Taly’s mind. “I suppose we could accomplish frightening things if we had the power and ability.” Like the Schism. Maybe worse. “And nobody would really be able to stop us. Not if we can see them coming.”

The Queen gave her a sad smile and finished off her glass of wine. “And maybe she’s not so daft after all.” She turned to Leto. “Be a dear and bring us some champagne. The Lady Caro finally said something intelligent, and I think that’s cause for celebration.”

She turned back to Taly and leaned forward. “Besides,” she said, a small, strange smile curling her lips, “I suspect you might need another drink.”

“Why is that?” Taly asked, confused.

“Because you haven’t considered the next question. From an outside perspective, how would you know that a time mage was acting for the greater good?”

Taly hesitated. “I’m not sure I follow.”

Azura leaned back in her chair, turning to look out the window and the ash tapping against the glass. “Let’s use an example then, shall we? If you had the ability, would you go back in time and kill the man that invaded your island before he had the chance to do any harm?”

“Of course,” Taly answered immediately.

“Even if he was innocent?”

“But he’s not innocent. He’s killed thousands of people. Maybe more.”

“Yes,nowhe has.” Azura gave her a pointed look. “In order to stop him, however, you’d need to go back to before he began turning men and women into shades. Before he’d even conceived of the idea. You’d have to find him when he was still blameless, and then you’d have to kill an innocent man.”

“It would still be for the greater good,” Taly insisted. “Especially considering what he’s done.”

“I agree,” Azura conceded. “But you and I are both time mages, and we can see exactly how many lives a single man’s death might spare. What I’m asking you to do is to think about those that can’t see through the Weave, the people that willneversee that future if we do our jobs correctly. If we go back in time and kill a manbeforehe’s committed a crime, how are thosearound us supposed to know that we were acting in their best interests? That we were trying to minimize the amount of harm done to society by killing one man before he could kill millions?”

Taly’s stomach turned as the realization began to sink in. “They would have to take us at our word. To them, our actions would look unprovoked, perhaps even malicious. It’s easy to say you’re acting in good faith, but proving it…”

“Is another matter entirely,” Azura finished.

“So, what is it you were trying to avoid?”

Azura merely arched a brow.

“When you shut down the gates,” Taly clarified. “What is it you were trying to avoid? What was it that made that many lives worth that kind of sacrifice?”

Azura drummed her fingers on the arm of her chair, shooting Calcifer a deadly glare when he jumped in Taly’s lap. “How do you know I had a reason? Maybe I was just tired of ruling over the gates. Maintaining them had become such a bother, and the other Genesis Lords were always pushing me to build more. As if we already didn’t have enough power and influence…”

“No,” Taly said with a shake of her head. “I don’t buy it. You might be crazy, but you’re not cruel, and everything I’ve ever read about you leading up to the Schism painted you as a wise and fair ruler. No matter what you say, you’re not going to convince me that you didn’t have a reason.”

Azura gave a polite smile. “Today is not the day for answers, my dear.”