“You think you saved me back there? You think you somehow saved Yem by murdering one old man? You’ve no notion of the damage you’ve caused! No inkling of the wider world around you. You think the miseries Yem’s people endure are a snake with a head to be lopped off, and then like maxia everyone will be rich and fat and happy again? There are forces and systems in place you haven’t even attempted to understand. You think you’re the only child with dead parents? Look around you! The world is filled with starving orphans. You and I saw the same Silverton, did we not? We’ll see the same in Kiva and Tideron and you’ll see more in Linura before you die. The whole country is headed for ruin and you’ve practically sealed its fate because of your anger—your childish, ignorant bid to make a change when you know nothing of what that change could mean.”

“I don’t—”

“The Wardens, girl! They were vying for control while Rolandrian was still warm, making deals, clasping the country tighter in their grip than it already was—all under the guise of order. They’ll set curfews. They’ll start rounding up entire families. Public executions in Laurelside, in Mudtown, common turning on common. Many and more will suffer the same as you did: starving, freezing, without their parents. Was it worth it? Was it worth your petty fantasy?”

“You can’t—”

“And now you want it all to end!” The Hawk barked a laugh. “You were afraid of the consequences, so you ran, and now that those consequences are marching you back, you want to run again! Well, I won’t save you—I’ll not prevent your torture nor your execution. It will be the only decent thing you’ve done with your pathetic life.”

Anji choked out another sob. “What difference does it make? If I’m going to die anyway, please just do it now! Haven’t I gone through enough? Aren’t you satisfied?”

The Hawk slapped her.

“This isn’t a gods-damned story, you stupid girl! You think a little suffering makes you innocent? You think you’ve earned something? What good is your pain if you learn nothing from it?”

Anji held a hand to her stinging cheek, her lips trembling.

Kit sucked in a labored breath. “Get back on the horse.”

“No,” said Anji, wagging her head. “No, please, don’t make me—”

The Hawk seized her arm and yanked Anji to her feet. “I said get up.”

“No!” Anji screamed, batting at Kit’s hands. She stumbled away, panting. “Why are you doing this? They said you’d left, that you weren’t keeping the tenets. You’re not working for the Wardens, for the Senate. What could you possibly need a million Rhoda—”

“That’s not your—”