snapped, glaring at Tristan before turning back to Veronyka. Her eyes were dark and glittering when she spoke again. “You are Veronyka Ashfire. You answer to no one.”
A chill slipped down Veronyka’s back as she considered the truth of Val’s words.
If Veronyka wanted, she could come forward—could reveal herself to Commander Cassian and the rest of the Riders. Would he and the others listen to her then? Would the truth allow her to do more, to really make a difference? Was she ultimately being selfish by concealing her identity when she knew she had more to offer than what she was currently? Was she being a coward?
Then again, the revelation of her identity could have the opposite effect. The commander might not see her as a warrior and Phoenix Rider any longer, but as a pawn—a chip or bargaining piece. Would she be locked away and kept safe, deemed too valuable to risk?
But this wasn’t the empire—Veronyka had no right to anything here in Pyra. Commander Cassian had rebuilt the Phoenix Riders from the ground up, and ultimately it would be up to him whether he wanted to acknowledge her position from the old world in his new one, or if he would rather treat her the same as he always had: as a young Phoenix Rider apprentice. He’d been a governor once, after all—and his family had been kings long before that. The world had changed, and so too had their positions in it. Was there even room for a queen in the new empire? Was there still value in the Ashfire name?
Veronyka believed that people earned their place—and maybe that was part of why the revelation of her identity had rocked her so severely. All that was different about her was a surname. Did it truly change her, or was she the same person she’d always been?
And if she wanted the Ashfire name to matter, wasn’t it up to her to make it so?
“Please, Veronyka,” Tristan said, pulling her out of her thoughts. He was standing in front of her now, hands on her shoulders. “She’s trying to force you into leaving—into thinking this is the only way.”
“I’m not,” Val said, walking toward them. Tristan tried to cut her off, but Val spoke over his shoulder to Veronyka directly. “I’ve learned my lesson; I will not force you. You have until midnight to meet me back here, at the southern entrance to the mine. The decision is yours.” She darted a last look at Tristan. “And, Veronyka? Come alone.”
Val summoned Doriyan again, and he escorted them down a different passage than they’d entered through, which led to the southern entrance. Val stayed behind in the chamber, watching with a crackling intensity in her eyes as they left.
As soon as they were out of Val’s sight, Doriyan’s demeanor changed. He hurried his pace, glancing often over his shoulder and muttering to himself. He’d obeyed Val so completely that Veronyka had thought he might be under shadow magic influence, but she realized now that she would have been able to sense it. Doriyan was obeying Val of his own free will, which seemed at odds with what Alexiya had said about him avoiding all Phoenix Riders since the war….
“What are you doing, serving her?” Veronyka demanded, whirling on the spot as they reached the cave mouth. She was frustrated and angry and needed to take it out on someone. “I thought you hated Phoenix Riders. I thought you didn’t want to be found.”
Doriyan looked taken aback. “I didn’t.”
Veronyka looked around the cavern walls. “Stupid place to hide, then, when everyone knows you’re from Rushlea.”
“My father,” Doriyan said, looking down. “He’s… not well. He needed someone to look after him.”
His melancholy expression threatened to pierce Veronyka’s swelling anger, so she looked away from him. “You should have taken him somewhere safe. You should have left.”
Tristan stepped between them. “Just forget it—come on, Veronyka.”
“What did you just call her?” Doriyan asked, eyes wide. He shifted his attention over Tristan’s shoulder. “What is your name?”
Veronyka hesitated, surprised by his reaction. “Veronyka.”
He nodded—kept nodding, as if suddenly everything in the world made sense. “The Pyraean form of the name Pheronia.”
“What?” Veronyka and Tristan said together. Veronyka took an unconscious step toward Doriyan.
He shook his head, as if trying to clear it, before fixing her with a long stare. “Axura above,” he muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Yes,” he said, his voice suddenly hard. “I hate Phoenix Riders. You would too, if you’d