His close cropped, dark hair matched the military title he had bestowed on himself, giving him a forbidding look that seemed utterly at odds with his current manner. Could I risk taking advantage of his unexpectedly mild response to my incursion?
“What I want to know is why,” I said, after a brief pause.
He raised an eyebrow. “That’s a very broad question. Why what?”
“Why the interest in Cadence and me? You say you want to reclaim Calista, but what do we have to do with that?” I licked my lips before voicing the question I’d never dared to ask aloud before. “There have always been rumors the youngest prince escaped the massacre. Was that our grandfather? Is that why my ability is so strong?”
“Do you mean to ask if you’re heir to the Calistan throne?” The General threw back his head and laughed.
I waited for his amusement to die away, gripping the seat beneath me with tight hands.
“No, my dear,” he said, when his mirth subsided. “I’m afraid you are not.”
His endearment set my teeth on edge, but I said nothing.
He cocked his head to the side. “Are you disappointed?”
“Hardly,” I scoffed. “Only a fool would desire such a burden. The fallen kingdom is no prize.”
“A very neatly delivered insult,” the General said approvingly, “since I have made no secret of desiring the role.” He smiled. “I believe you and I could deal very well, Airlie, if you would only see reason.”
“Perhaps it is you who needs to see reason,” I said calmly, despite my racing heart.
He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. “You are but a child still, despite your strength, and there is much at play here you don’t yet understand. Which is why I’ve been so forbearing. I still believe you will end up joining my cause by choice. It’s your cause as well, after all. You might not be royal, but you’re still Calistan. And you do have incredible power. By my side, you could help shape the new Calista.”
He sat back, as if to let his words sink in. I couldn’t deny that he had so far been much gentler than I had expected from my brief previous encounter with him. Even around camp he usually appeared commanding and brusque—expecting and receiving instant obedience to his orders.
Cold efficiency was how I would previously have characterized his manner, and I had marveled at the number of followers he had under his spell. But now I was seeing an entirely different side of him. Warm and almost charming, it was easy to see how he managed to win people over.
Here in his study, I had his full attention as he invited me into his inner circle. And I couldn’t deny the temptation to feel flattered by the compliment.
I steeled myself, focusing my mind on the true nature of the man across from me. As if sensing the change in my manner, he leaned forward again.
“I have no patience for talk of lost heirs. The last thing we need is a return to the past. It’s no secret that I rejoice at the destruction of the old royal family. They brought about their own downfall with pride and arrogance.”
“Are you saying they’re to blame for their own massacre?”
I matched him look for look.
“They are,” he said, his certainty more convincing than I was willing to admit. “The young children may have been relatively blameless, but I have no doubt they would have been raised in the same mold as their parents. And their slaughter only proves why the royal family of Tartora are no more fit to rule than the Calistans were. It is time for new blood and a new era. The nomads have the right idea.”
“Then you don’t intend to start a royal lineage of your own?” I asked, disbelievingly.
He shook his head. “I have no wife or children. Nor do I intend ever to have them. I will build Calista up from the ashes, and when I am gone, it will be up to Calista to decide who will replace me.”
I frowned. It was an unexpected sentiment, coming from a tyrant ruler.
“You see, Airlie,” he pressed. “I care for the future of Calista. I might be the only one who does. In Tartora, you probably heard tell of my villainy in snatching away innocent villagers.”
He paused inquiringly, and I reluctantly nodded.
“But have you seen any such captives here?” he asked.
Again I shook my head. I had been permitted to talk to anyone within the walls, and I had found no sign of other prisoners. Many of the original inhabitants spoke of the General warily, defiance in their eyes, but the newcomers all seemed to love him.
“You are the only person I have abducted—an unfortunate but necessary evil. The others I freed. In some parts of Tartora, the Calistan refugees have been allowed to blend seamlessly into the local population. But in other parts, the descendants of those who sought shelter from the destruction wrought in Calista are treated as garbage. Is it wrong of me to liberate them from their oppressors? Did they do anything to merit such ill treatment?”
“And what of the animals and belongings you liberated along with them?” I asked with scorn.
He spread his hands wide. “Wealth that was rightfully theirs after generations of hard labor and sacrifice.”
I frowned. His words made more sense than I liked.
“They may have been wronged,” I said slowly, “but responding in such a violent way helps only those few who escape with you. Other Calistans across the kingdom will face the consequences of your actions. And is the hard life here, eking a living from a barren land, really much better than what they left behind?”
“Freedom is worth any cost. But you are right that our people deserve much more. That is why we need our own kingdom back. It’s the only solution. And thus, you can see why we need mages such as you and your sister. Once our forces are strong enough, we will retake Calista, and anyone who wishes to return may do so.”
I stared at him. “Is that really possible? It sounds like a child’s dream to me.”
“Does it? But wasn’t it your father’s dream as well?”
I frowned. “You know nothing of my father.”
He shrugged. “Perhaps not. But I know he wouldn’t listen to any of Quirin’s arguments in favor of joining us. He knew there was a power affinity community here—one that could have provided support and companionship for you and your sister. But instead of joining this settlement, he raised you alone. Why?”
He paused, but I said nothing, so he continued.
“Your father knew that when Calista fell, the destruction was focused on the palace and Guild. While the massacre targeted all those with a power affinity, many among the general population escaped. At the Calistan Mages’ Guild, however, your grandfather was the only one to get away—a babe in arms whose powerful parents had just been murdered.”
“What’s your point?” I asked, out of patience with the history lesson.
“Merely this: your father must have had a reason for refusing to put himself under the authority of this community. Can you tell me it wasn’t because he had plans for you that didn’t involve following anyone else’s lead? Yours is the only bloodline left with a strong power affinity. You have no legal claim on the Calistan throne—the Calistan rulers were never power mages. But your father believed there was no one else left with the strength to claim it.”