She smiled slightly. “You would have me give my world to this plan. Abandon things it has taken a lifetime to build. Embrace deceits and empty ideas. It would leave my mind and heart a wasted heath, as burned and empty and as useless as all those farms you destroyed to slow the vord.”

Aquitaine looked thoughtful for a moment. Then he nodded, and said, “I do not understand. But I must accept your answer.”

“Yes. I think you must.”

He frowned. “Octavian knows he must protect himself against me. And I, for my part, must similarly protect myself against him. If it is possible, I will avoid a direct confrontation. I have no particular desire to do him harm.” He met Isana’s eyes. “But these things have a way of taking on a life of their own. And I will see the Realm whole, strong, and ready to defend itself.”

She inclined her head to him, very slightly, and said, “Then your wisest course will be to accept the will of Gaius Sextus, Lord Aquitaine.”

“Gaius Sextus is dead, lady.” He bowed just as slightly in reply. “And look where accepting the will of that old serpent has brought us.”

Aquitaine nodded once to Araris and strode from the room.

Araris shut the door behind the High Lord and turned to Isana. He exhaled slowly, and only then did he lift his hand from his sword.

Isana padded over to him and their arms slid around one another. She held him very close to her, leaning her cheek against his chest. She stayed there for several moments, closing her eyes. Araris’s arms tightened around her, holding her without pressing her too hard against the steel links of his armor. As they stood close, Isana felt the cool reserve of the metalcrafting he’d been using to contain his emotions as it receded.

For some time, there was only his presence, the warmth of his love, as steady as any rock, and Isana let that warmth push back the cold of her worries and fears.

After a little while, she asked, “Did I do the right thing?”

“You know you did,” he replied.

“Did I?” she asked. “He had a point. He had several.”

Araris made a growling sound in his throat. After a moment, he said, “Maybe. So ask yourself something.”

“What?”

“Could you live a lie?”

She shuddered. “I’ve done it before. To protect Tavi.”

“So did I,” he said. “I was there.” He gestured at his scarred face. “Paid a price for it. And when... when I got out from under that burden, it was the best thing that had happened to me since Septimus died.”

“Yes,” Isana said quietly. She lifted a hand and laid it on his scarred face, on the old coward’s brand burned there. She leaned in and kissed his mouth gently. “No. I can’t do that anymore.”