It’s a blow, this rush of realization that Trystan was even more of an outcast in the Western Realm than he is here.

“They don’t understand,” I breathe, glancing up toward the Wyvernguard, “do they?”

Trystan’s lips tighten with derision, his stare unblinkingly harsh. “And you think you do?”

I draw back from the accusation in his tone as a fuller realization washes over me. I’ve been so thoughtless, kissing Basyl in front of Trystan to push him away, when where Trystan’s just come from, to kiss a man like that would get you hurled in prison. Or worse.

I take a step toward him. “I want to understand.”

“You want to understand?” Trystan bites out. “Fine. I’ll help you to understand. If I embraced someone over there...”

His words break off and he looks out over the river, his jaw tensing, his water power churning. “If I embraced someone there like you embrace Basyl...” He stops again and takes a deep breath, then turns back to me, eyes blazing as if he’s willing me to understand from the force of his gaze alone. “If I kissed another man there, like you’re able to here, they would have arrested us and possibly executed us. Our lives would be destroyed. Our families’ lives would be destroyed. Unless they disowned us. My whole life I’ve lived like this, and you think I can just...turn it off and go back to being Gardnerian?”

Trystan scowls, and I can feel his vast power quivering with anger. “They tell me to wear Gardnerian clothing. That I’m a Gardnerian. But I never was.” His tone takes on a vicious edge. “Who I really am is unwanted in the Western Realm. Despised. And marked an Evil One.” He glances up at the Wyvernguard Island’s apex, fury in his eyes, then sets his gaze back on mine as a cold half smile forms on his beautiful, green-glimmering mouth.

“I never was Gardnerian,” he says with more emotion than I’ve ever seen him show. “And I never will be. No matter how many times they destroy my Noi clothing. No matter what they do to drive me out. I will never wear Gardnerian blacks again.” He takes another step toward me, gaze scorching. “And whether the people of Noilaan want me or not, I’m going to stay right here. And I’m going to fight with everything in me for this intolerant, tolerant land.”

I’m frozen, stunned, the tear silently streaking down Trystan’s angular face bringing a sting of tears to my own eyes.

“Step back, Vothe,” Trystan says, his voice steely as his tear-slicked eyes take on a lethal light. His hand moves to the wand at his side.

Alarm whips up my power. “Why?”