Their galley had been destroyed in the crystal rain, and they’d commandeered a new ship outside Garriston—fine, stole it. When Aliviana had seen a small river running green and wanted to go investigate, the crew had been so frightened, they’d nearly mutinied.

They’d later lost two drafters after the idiots had humiliated some pirates in a tavern fight. The pirates ambushed them in a dark alley, and mortally wounded them.

The lesson Aliviana’s men had taken from that was that when you fight pirates, kill them and all their friends. Against her orders, they’d gone looking for vengeance and sunk the pirates’ ship. With all the pirates aboard.

She’d had to execute another drafter for instigating that and disobeying her. She had qualms about that. One of the men killed in the ambush had been the drafter’s lover. The men were greens. They had a hard time obeying rules.

But after that, her authority hadn’t been questioned again.

It also meant that as they finally made it to Wiwurgh, she had only two drafters and Phyros. The captain and his men had disappeared, not even taking their pay—though they had stolen the galley.

That brought her here, carrying a fortune, looking for a ship and crew crazy enough to search the very mouth of the Everdark Gates for the superviolet seed crystal—or bane. Though of course Liv didn’t tell her father that they were looking for anything. “And that’s it,” she said. She realized as she’d been speaking that it was tremendously comforting to talk to someone who loved her. To connect.

She’d slowed down on drafting superviolet since she’d gotten away from Zymun, and she’d realized what a crutch it had been. Not that she judged those who burned through their halos joyfully—many of the Blood Robes celebrated such, though the Color Prince himself took a more nuanced approach. But for her, it was too much, too fast. She didn’t feel like herself when she was drafting all the time. Maybe she’d gone a little overboard for a while.

Talking to her father again, she saw a new respect in his eyes. He was worried for her. Of course he was. These were dangerous times. But she could tell he was trying hard not to interject advice. It was nice to be reminded of relationships that weren’t all about power. And yet, power interfered even here.

“Now…” she said. “What about you?” As if they were just old friends catching up, not father and daughter. She was an adult now, not his subordinate. She’d done amazing things in her own right, and even if he wasn’t pushing her down, she could feel herself wanting to slip back into that old role. She’d worshipped her father, and he was a great man. That didn’t mean he was infallible. It didn’t mean he was right about the Chromeria, about Gavin Guile, about any of it.

“I’ve … well, you’re going to hear it sooner or later. I took the people of Garriston and a bunch of Tyrean refugees to Seers Island. We established a city there. They’re calling it the City of Gold. Gavin Guile helped us. He drafted tens of thousands of solid yellow luxin bricks that we’ve used to build most everything. He even managed to win us back Tyrea’s old lost seat on the Spectrum.”

“That’s, that’s great news. Who would have known? They’re going to have to start calling him Gavin the Builder, what with Brightwater Wall around Garriston, and now that.”

“He’s gone now. A slave on an oar currently. With worse ahead.”

“What?”

“A bit of intelligence, as a sign of good faith.”

Kind of you, but…”Father, how did you find me?”

“You like your truth unvarnished, right?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve fallen in love. I married a woman on Seers Island.”

“Oh. Uh … congratulations. I’m so happy for you.” Married? Liv felt the twist in her guts. So fast? The detachment that superviolet had taught her helped her speak levelly, as if it were merely interesting.

“She told me I could find you here. Did you know this place doesn’t even have a name? Hard to find by description alone, I assure you.”

“You what? Married?” Easy, Liv. Not like your own love life has been particularly laudable. You have no right to feel betrayed.

“Also, I’m a satrap now.”

“What?!”

“You like it straight. That’s straight.”

“So that was your payoff for turning your cloak?” she asked.

“Was your payoff for turning yours that you be made a goddess?” He tapped a finger firmly on the tabletop.

She wanted to spit at him. “I changed sides because I saw what I’d believed before was wrong.”

“So did I.” He was calm, cool, and hard. So very rational that the superviolet part of her couldn’t help but be impressed.

“Gavin Guile is a monster. You told me so yourself.”

“Gavin Guile was a monster. People change,” Corvan said.

“People don’t change that much!”

“You did. I did.”

“He killed people. Thousands upon thousands,” she said. “Innocents. He wiped out Garriston.”

“You mean in the Prisms’ War? He wasn’t even at Garriston. But yes, he told his generals to take the city. But you’ve seen battle now. War is a flame. It escapes even the best-laid plans. Your actions were vital in laying Ru prostrate. And now you know all the vileness that can happen to a city laid prostrate.”

It took her breath away. She had been the decisive factor in the Battle of Ru. She had birthed a god. All those sailors dead, all those men enslaved, and all the massacres and rapes and horror within the walls, too. They weren’t her fault, not exactly, but they wouldn’t have happened without her, either.

Did she have an entire city on her conscience? Was that why she had wanted so badly to escape?

In the end, was she different from Gavin Guile only in degree, and not in kind?

“The Color Prince had some good rationale for the Rape of Ru?” Corvan asked, eyes heavy-lidded.

“A punitive action to deter others from belligerence in the future,” she said, but she felt like she was saying it far away.

“Or inspire more belligerence?” Corvan asked.

“It could do that, too,” she admitted. It was only logical.

“So the weak will surrender more quickly than they would have otherwise, while the strongest will fight to the last man and woman, knowing what will happen if they lose,” Corvan said. “He’s taken Raven Rock, since you left. It’s a small city, perhaps twenty thousand souls, perched on the side of a cliff. They refused to surrender and he put them under siege, though they didn’t hold out long against his wights. When he broke down the gates, two hundred young women who heard what he had done in Ru leapt off the cliffs. Some young mothers jumped with their children.”

Liv felt sick. “It can’t be true.”

“I don’t lie to you. Indeed, perhaps we wouldn’t be here if I did.” He tapped his fingers.

“He wouldn’t have hurt them. Ru was a one-time thing. He’s not bloodthirsty.”

Her father said nothing to that, and she heard how it sounded.

“Two hundred? Surely an exaggeration. One or two, perhaps. I know how these stories are.”