“I would if it means sparing you two, my precious daughters,” he said. “These choices I make, they are mine, and mine alone. I do not fear them. I have long since moved beyond guilt and doubt. If I am to be judged, let it be by gods wiser than I.”

Mari took his hand into both of hers and squeezed his bony fingers.

“There will be nothing to judge,” she said. “Tomorrow morning, we’re going to free those people from their hangings. We’ll save them, every last one, and if we’re lucky, we might even put the Imperator and the Anointed One into early graves. Wouldn’t that be a day? A good day, great day even, so don’t worry tonight. Smile instead. At least, smile for me, all right? I know a frown fits you better, but if you don’t, those lines around your mouth will become deep as canyons.”

Thorda laughed, and it warmed her heart to finally see her words pierce through his veil of gloom.

“Thank you, Mari,” he said. “I know you doubt yourself, and that you think yourself a poor comparison to your sister. She’s a cold killer, true, more brutal, more eager to act, but you’re the stronger one. You’ve kept your kindness despite this world’s hate. You’ve kept your vulnerability despite this world’s cruelty. Holding on to your humanity amid death and war… that is so much harder than rage. In Stasia, I see what Miquo once was. In you, I see the future I would give our people, if I were but clever enough to grasp it.”

Mari bit her lip. A thousand times she’d wished to say this. Perhaps due to her father’s own encouragement, she finally possessed the necessary courage.

“Please don’t compare us,” she said. “No matter how you do it, it always feels like one of us falls short of the other. Can’t we both be enough?”

Thorda did not speak for a long moment, though his jaw shifted and his mouth chewed as if he were eating his own tongue.

“You two have ever been the world to me,” he said. “And I could never have asked for better daughters. You are beyond what I deserve. I may show it poorly, but I thank the heavens for you two. You give me the strength to walk the lonely, jagged path that must be walked. If Miquo is to be free of the God-Incarnate, it will not be by my hands, but yours and Stasia’s. I believe that, I truly do.”

Mari slid across the empty cushion so that her weight pressed against him. She settled her head on his shoulder. He tensed at first, then slowly relaxed. It reminded her of befriending a stray cat, and the thought made her smile.

“It’s been hard,” she said. “But you’ve done your best. I know that. Stasia does, too.”