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“That’s my girl.” I kissed her forehead.

Then, Rina’s voice broke through the din. “Do any humans happen to live in Brontain?”

“We have human towns all throughout the territory, but mostly in the south,” Ezalia responded.

Santorina flashed a look at Ophelia who nodded proudly at her friend. “I’m hoping to progress the training program for humans as we tour different territories,” Rina explained.

“Is it not our responsibility to protect Gallantia?” Andrenas asked kindly.

“The land, yes, and yourselves,” Rina answered. “But humans are a free people in Gallantia, so does it not stand that they should also be able to take up arms should they choose?” Andrenas smiled understandingly at Santorina, and Rina turned back to Ezalia with restored confidence. “I know Ophelia wrote to you already, but is there anyone I can speak to while here?”

“There is.” She smiled, then opened her mouth and bellowed, “LEO!”

The innkeeper came jogging back in. “Aye, do you always have to be so loud, Ez?”

“Yes,” she deadpanned. “But you know that already, brother.”

Brother? I looked between the two and found the same shade of dark-brown hair and sea-glass eyes. The same crooked smirk and straight noses and annoyed scoffs, but also an easy affection I didn’t quite understand.

Lyria and I had never been…She came to Damenal for me, I reminded myself. She had said she was proud of me.

“Santorina would like to speak with you about organizing a project of sorts,” Ezalia told Leo. “I’d like you to help her by writing to whoever you think would be an asset. Form an organizational chart, please, and we’ll look at it after our business is taken care of this week.”

Rina and Leo disappeared to the bar where she animatedly dove into her reasoning for the program, and the Seawatcher listened dutifully. When she was done, he pulled out ink and parchment, and Spirits damn me, there was a glimmer in his eye.

“Your brother?” I asked Ezalia.

“Ten years elder and abundantly more patient.” Her voice was layered with adoration that stung.

“If he’s the oldest of your family, why is he not chancellor?” I asked.

She aimlessly moved food around her plate with her fork. “The Spirits chose me. They showed it to me during my Isla Trysva.” Their ritual, like our Undertaking. My hand fisted atop the table at the reminder. I rolled my neck to dispel the sudden tension.

“Was it ever competitive between you two, then?”

Ezalia watched her brother. “Never. He didn’t want this position. He would have taken it—would have excelled at it, too. But Leo always wanted something simpler. A different kind of life that most in our family aren’t allowed.” She looked at me. “I’ve had this position for thirty years now, since I was only fifty, and not a day goes by where I don’t think he would do a better job. But I wanted it more. I’m happier with it than he ever would have been.”

Next to me, Ophelia listened quietly, but her eyes were intent on my face. When I did not answer the chancellor, she said, “I suppose just because two people share the same blood, doesn’t mean they’re destined for the same future.”

I wasn’t sure if she meant her sister or my own.

Marble surged toward me, the veins as familiar as if etched on my own body.

I’d been here before. Sharp edges and hard surfaces all cold against my skin.

Bruises and blood and bones cracking.

“A fucking disgrace.” Those words echoed as I fell. As hands left my back, and no one screamed but me. Except this time?—

I turned to save my shoulder and stumbled through the world.

When I landed, a knife was in my hand, piercing flesh. Grating through bone, and a small gasp followed.

Blood bloomed. Horror bloomed faster. How did I let this happen? How did I do this? I was born a mess, meant to destroy.

“No…no, no, no.” It was all I could think as I pressed my hand to the wound, trying to force that life source back in.

But it didn’t work that way. It coated tan skin, quickly paling, my own hands burning crimson, too.