Andross Guile, never Andross Red. Everyone had always known which was the more important. Andross had taken Gavin away.
When Gavin came back the next morning, his eyes were swollen like he had been crying, though he angrily denied it when Dazen asked. Whatever had happened, Gavin was never the same. He was a man now, he told Dazen, and he refused to play with him. When the White Oak brothers tried to pick a fight, Gavin filled himself with such deep sub-red that the heat emanated from him in waves, and he quietly told the brothers that if they attacked him, the result would be on their own heads.
In that moment, Dazen knew Gavin really would have killed them, too.
From then on, Gavin had spoken to their father as a confidant. Dazen had been left to fall by the wayside. For a time, he’d played with Sevastian. Then Sevastian was taken too, and he’d been alone. Dazen had hoped when he turned thirteen he’d be welcomed back into their graces, but his father had barely acknowledged the date. When it came time for it to be divined whom Orholam had chosen to be his next Prism, all of Big Jasper and Little Jasper was a whirl of speculation, but Dazen knew his older brother was the one. How it happened didn’t matter. Andross had been grooming Gavin to be Prism for his whole life.
And I was groomed to be nothing. A castoff to marry Karris White Oak or some other girl to deflect some other father’s ambitions. Until Gavin tried to take even that from me.
The hardest part of maintaining his disguise was here—not in pretending to be Gavin, but in being reminded of all Gavin had had and that Dazen never would.
“So, go to Garriston, save it or burn it, kill Garadul, and get the dagger. Sounds simple enough.” If Gavin did things right, that would fulfill one of his purposes, and set the stage for another.
Andross said, “I’ll give you letters to the Ruthgari to make sure they’ll obey you.”
“You’re going to make me the governor of Garriston?” Every time Gavin forgot how powerful his father was—even from this little room—Andross did something to remind him.
“Not officially. If you fail it would besmirch our name. But I’m making sure that the governor does whatever you tell him.”
“But the Spectrum—”
“Can, on occasion, be ignored. It’s so not easy to depose a Prism, you know. When you return, we’ll talk about getting you married. It’s time you start making heirs. You showing up with a bastard presses the issue.”
“Father, I’m not—”
“If you crush one of the satraps, even a rebel one, you’re going to need to buy off one of the others. It’s time. You will obey me in this. We’ll talk about the bastard problem later.”
Chapter 48
Liv had gone to the light garden high in the yellow tower to think, but it seemed she couldn’t walk ten paces without stumbling over some young couple kissing. As the sun went down, the light garden became spectacular—and a favorite of couples. Liv should have remembered. There was something particularly jarring in the sight of young lovers when she was feeling so isolated.
She left, her emotions tumbling over each other, sorry she’d been so rude to Kip, certain she was right that her father was still alive, and scared to death she was wrong. Lonely, scared of her future, and now—hit in the face with how easy everyone else seemed to find it to find someone who liked her—lonely for a boy. Any boy. Well, practically. Liv had been at the Chromeria for three years, and the best she’d done was have a few near-misses at relationships. Being Tyrean, being the daughter of a general on the losing side, and being poor had ended most interest before it began. The one boy she’d thought really cared for her had invited her to the Luxlords’ Ball and then had stood her up and gone with another girl. Apparently it had been a prank. The next year she’d briefly become the object of a competition between some of the most popular boys. For two weeks, it was glorious to be the center of attention. She’d felt like she’d finally broken through, that people were finally accepting her. One of them invited her to the Luxlords’ Ball.
Then she overheard one of the others talking about a wager they had to see who could swive her first. Her revenge had been swift and terrible. She’d promised