cage, they had a choice: fight or flight. Maybe they should have left, but they didn’t. Xoe chose to fight, just like she chose not to come back when we burned her body. And I won’t let you or anyone else take her sacrifice away from her.”
Latham’s pale face flushed with color. He looked furious, but also embarrassed, opening his mouth to reply, but Tristan cut him off. “We can’t change the past, Latham, and I understand you’re upset with me,” he said, deliberately trying to take the focus off Veronyka. Latham was treating her as a scapegoat, as someone to take the blame for Tristan’s bad behavior—and he couldn’t have that. “But you should have talked to me first. Involving the commander in this… I wouldn’t be surprised if he decides we’re not ready and sends us back to the Eyrie.”
“Maybe that’s not the worst thing,” Latham said.
Tristan’s anger surged again. “If that’s what you wanted all along, Latham, you could have asked. I would have gladly sent you back to safety behind those walls. But not all of us want to cower and hide.”
Latham’s reddened cheeks blanched.
“Tristan,” said the commander, standing in the open doorway to the inn. “Inside. Now.”
Tristan hesitated before following his father, glancing at the others—especially Latham and Veronyka—afraid that the argument wasn’t yet over. He tried to wrestle back his feelings of hurt and confusion, pausing as he drew level with Veronyka.
“Wait for me?” he asked hopefully, but her gaze was a lifetime away, and she didn’t answer.
Commander Cassian led Tristan into a small parlor, the hearth inside dark and the tables empty. Even the main room had cleared out, the fight scaring away customers and earning Tristan a scowl from the owner as they passed through.
“Take a seat,” his father said, closing the door behind him and pointing at a chair.
“I’d rather stand,” Tristan said.
The commander sighed heavily, pulling out a chair at the end of the table and sitting. He poured himself a cup from a pitcher on the table but did not drink. Instead he lifted his face and surveyed his son. “I get the impression you’re… less than overjoyed to see me.”
Tristan bowed his head. He was at the end of his rope—he’d been through too much today and didn’t have the energy for another fight. “Can we just get this over with?” he asked, fidgeting in the awkward silence. “I know why you’re here—I know what this is. You’re here to tell me I screwed up, that I’m doing it all wrong, that—”
“Tristan,” his father cut in, his expression startled. “I didn’t come here to rail at you. I came here expecting to have to use some of my old politician’s tricks… and maybe teach you some of them too. I came here to help you.”
Tristan had been contemplating his boots, but he looked up at that. He considered with numb shock that perhaps much of what he’d taken as disappointment and criticism throughout his life had actually been his father trying to teach him things. Tristan just hoped he hadn’t missed too many of the lessons with his knee-jerk defensive reactions.
The commander leaned back in his chair, scrubbing a hand across his face. “I thought we’d deal with the disgruntled farmers, shake some hands, and reassure them that everything is under control. Then we’d partake in the festivities.” He took a drink from his cup at last. “But,” he added, and Tristan had known it was coming, “apparently there are other issues that need to be dealt with. You have to tighten your hold on your patrol, son. I warned you there would be resentment if you pursued a romantic relationship with Veronyka. I warned you not to get distracted from your duties.”
His voice was low and steady and surprisingly without reprimand or accusation. Still, Tristan turned away, biting his tongue because his father was right, of course. Tristan had lost control of them, but worst of all, he’d lost their respect. And he’d somehow dragged Veronyka into it; she was taking the blame for his mistakes, and that was unacceptable. Suddenly everything he’d asked his father weeks ago came back to him, the importance of waiting, of letting Veronyka prove herself—letting them both earn their reputations before they became romantically involved. But Tristan hadn’t followed that advice, and now not only was his patrol angry with him, but Veronyka was too. Their closeness was causing trouble on all sides, and Tristan didn’t know how to move on