She doesn’t respond, just keeps looking at me, and it’s the pity in her eyes that finally makes me grit my teeth and pull myself together. I don’t need her pity.

“You know we went north. We stopped at some strongholds, but then we took a surprise turn to Monyar. Kiran kept making notes to report to his father. They were looking at everything there. Anything that might matter strategically.”

Zivah’s pen hovers above the parchment. “If the heir himself is looking at Monyar, then this isn’t some border skirmish they’re planning. This is a major campaign.”

“The emperor turns sixty next year, and the Amparans like to commemorate these things with new conquests. What better way to do that than subjugating Monyar Peninsula, maybe even launching through the pass into the rest of the northern continent?” I consider what I just said. “Of course, that gives us an obvious way to stop the attacks, or at least greatly delay them.”

She looks at me blankly.

I speak slowly. “If the emperor never turns sixty.”

She pales. “An assassination?”

I hide my own fear with a nonchalant shrug. “I’m here. We might as well use me.” But I wonder…could I even do it? Get past the emperor’s entourage and bodyguards? And then there’s the issue of getting out alive afterward.

Zivah looks as if she’s having the same doubts. “We’ll see what Tal and Gatha say. Will you be all right, going back into Sehmar City? Can you keep earning their trust?”

“Apparently I can become any kind of monster I wish.”

There’s poison in my voice, and I see her tense. “If you’ve become a monster, let me share the blame. I gave you the potion.”

“Dear gods, do you ever raise your voice?”

“Would it help?”

Yes, it would. I want to argue, I want to yell, but she’s unflappable, and I don’t have the energy to keep knocking my fists against a wall.

“I’m still determined to do well…” I tell her. “My other self, I mean. But I also have misgivings about Neju’s Guard. I trust Arxa, but there were things that I saw…that I did…on the mission that really shook me.” I stop, because my next request feels like the worst betrayal yet. “Ask me about it before I leave. You have to convince me what I’m doing is right. You must tell me to keep doing my best for Arxa.”

Zivah’s forehead creases at my request, and I feel a perverse satisfaction. She’s finally getting a taste of what it’s like to act as Ampara’s arm. “I’ll do my best,” she says.

“I’ll listen to you,” I tell her. “I trust you….”