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There probably would never be enough moments for her to sort through all of this…

“I had no idea,” Seph whispered at last. She wasn’t talking about the resemblances anymore.

Rian understood. “How is he?”

“He…” Seph sighed. “He is dying.”

Rian’s gaze fell. He stood quietly, then: “Was he happy with her?”

Seph thought of her grandparents, of the rich love they’d shared that had spilled over onto everyone. “Very.”

This seemed to ease something within Rian. “I’m glad to hear it.”

There was another knock on the door. This time, it was Abecka, and she didn’t wait for admittance. The door opened, and the enchantress strode in, though she stopped when she saw Rian. She didn’t appear alarmed, instead almost comfortable, like seeing Rian conversing privately with a member of her family was something she’d grown accustomed to.

Rian stood up straight, respectfully, and bowed his head. “Enchantress.”

“Rian.”

He glanced at Seph. “I’ll leave you two, though I look forward to more conversation.”

“Likewise,” Seph said sincerely as Rian departed, closing the door softly behind him.

“He used to cover so much for Jakobián,” Abecka said, with an edge of amusement. Her gaze grew distant, as if her mind had gone to the past, but then she gestured at the chair and asked, “May I sit?”

“You hardly need to ask.” Seph tried not to let her anger spill out, but she failed.

Abecka eyed her as she took a seat and stretched her arms along the supports. She gazed about the room, and said, “What do you want, child?”

The question caught Seph off guard. “What do you mean, what doIwant?”

“Do you wish to claim your heritage or not?”

“I thought that was already decided for me.”

Abecka studied Seph, and her fingers tapped at empty air. “Your heritage was decided for you the moment you were born. I’m asking whether or not you wish to claim it.”

“But you just announced me to all of Velentis.” Seph gestured at herself, and the dress.

“Yes, but if you’ll recall, the people of Velentis are quite encased from the rest of Canna.”

Seph frowned.

Abecka slid her hands from the armrests, clasped them in her lap, and leaned forward, her gaze fixed on Seph. “As I said before: I cannot help you through the Rift. Not now, anyway. But what Icando is send you with a few of my most trusted warriors to a safe location situated close to the Rift, so that if an opportunity arises where they can escort you safely through, they will do it and see you all the way to Harran. And I will do everything in my power to keep your identity from spreading throughout Canna so that you can eventually return to a normal life.”

Seph stared at the enchantress. Abecka was giving her a way out—an opportunity to walk away from the role her grandfather left behind, and all of the expectations that came with it. And if she did this, if she waited near the front lines, she may even have the opportunity to look for her papa and Levi at Fallows Gorge.

But then what?

Seph remembered Milly’s vision. “What happens if the Rift is never safe, and the war never ends?”

“All wars eventually cease, child. What we don’t know is how long it will last, or where we’ll be standing when it ends.”

This gave Seph an idea. “When I stumbled into Canna…Marks—Aldermentioned I’d walked through a temporary tear in the veil. Could you make another one so that we could bypass the Rift altogether?”

But Abecka was already shaking her head. “That brand of power does not come from Demas; it is not something I can do.”

Seph recalled Serinbor’s accusations to Alder, about his mother tampering in the forbidden arts. While she doubted Alder’s mother was guilty of this charge, she suspected making a tear in the gods’ veil fit into this category.