I turned on my stomach, away from her, and began sobbing into my hands. Brutal sobbing, and for a time, I couldn’t stop. If I faced the world, I’d have to do something about it. I’d have to try to fix it.

I didn’t think I could this time.

I felt her hand on my laevos, stroking my hair. “Oh, my sweet little girl. How all those fires in your heart must burn.”

I’d reached the stage of a full-on bawl, which is tears and hiccups and too much phlegm. We were in public. I wiped my eyes and nose with my hands, anyway.

“You let all those others define you,” she whispered to me. “So many people telling you who you must be.”

I couldn’t let that pass unanswered. “I’ve rebelled—”

“It’s no different. When opposing forces collide, they define each other. You cannot advance against an enemy without letting them shape you. You push, and you’re pushed against. You measure yourself against others, by their approval or by their displeasure, and every time you will find you have given them power over you, whether you realize it or not.” She cupped my cheek, and I felt her hand’s cold flesh, nothing like living tissue. It didn’t horrify me as much as it should have. “You must find yourself, my dear. Find your own heart, your own beauty, your own truth.”

She stood and offered her hand to me. “And then we can work on defeating your enemies.”

I laughed, a choking near-hysterical laugh even as I grabbed her desiccated hand and let her help me to my feet. Because you see, she was my enemy. The Kaens and Relos Var and all the forces aligned to help them. My enemies.

Or my friends.

And I didn’t know the difference anymore. Was Xivan nothing more than an obstacle in my quest to steal the dragon-slaying spear, Khoreval? Or was Xivan someone who would help me triumph over Duke Xun and Markreev Aroth, to regain Jorat? Was it better to truly be Duke Kaen’s tumai—or do as I’d promised the Goddess of Death and help destroy everyone helping Relos Var?

Ever since Tya, Goddess of Magic, had enchanted Arasgon to join me in the Afterlife, I had been the traitor hidden in Duke Kaen’s midst. I’d been passing messages and instructions back to my camp every night while I “slept.” Yet still I knew I hadn’t truly accepted my role. Maybe Oreth had been right. Maybe I’d never know my place.

I was supposed to find Yor’s crimes unforgivable, while ignoring the blood on my own hands.

Xivan Kaen pulled me into her arms and cradled me, while racking sobs claimed me again.

Talea guided me back to my room afterward, arm around my shoulders. She sat me down in a chair by the bed, kneeling next to me.