“I suppose I should be grateful that my daughter has deigned to see me at all,” Roza says with a derisive sniff while seated at the dining room table. Lunch is not a common thing in the James household, leaving the table free for us to invite Alana’s mother to a meal. Despite her cold tone, she hasn’t made things difficult for us. She arrived at the table early, dressed in a simple brown dress and white fur coat, the latter thrown over her chair. She didn’t even try to take the end seat, always a subtle power move, obediently taking the seat to the right of it.

“Good afternoon, Mother.” Alana takes the chair across from her. With a raised brow, I take the head chair. Her mother certainly notices, glancing at me with a frown before turning back her daughter. “I’m sorry it’s taken so long for us to sit down.”

“I understand. My little girl is quite busy, hm? Leading a campaign, pursuing love, dragging back her traitorous brother. I’m surprised you can stand up.”

“I could say the same for you. Khan’s situation has made you busy as well.”

Her mother smirks. “Oh? Have the servants finally started trying to ingratiate themselves to you? Or…” Her eyes move to me.

“Guilty.”

“Will your wonders never cease?” Despite the words, her tone makes it clear that it’s not a compliment. “I don’t know what rumors you might have heard so let me say things clearly. My role in the is that of the blinders worn by horses. The people of the north are strong of will but they are human. They can be distracted and misled. Out there, doubt leads to death. I eliminate that doubt.”

Way to make manipulating people through controlling the spread of information sound noble. Alana wisely doesn’t argue the point. “I know. I wanted to talk to you about that…”

Her mother’s eyes narrow in suspicion before she arranges her features into a doting expression. “Does my little sunshine need Mommy’s help, hm?”

Alana scoffs, face flushing with embarrassment. I hold back a laugh, as this is supposed to be a serious conversation, but I make a note of her reaction. I suppose there doesn’t exist a child who can’t be flustered by their parents. Awkward as our relationship is, if Father called me with such a sweet tone, I’d probably be just as embarrassed. Or throw up, one or the other.

“Khan is the one who needs your help.”

The fake smile on her mother’s face disappears. “I thought this was about him. Shall we save our breaths? While it makes Mommy happy that you’re such a good girl, there’s no saving him. The best he can ask for is a painless death.”

Really hard not to laugh at my future saint’s discomfort. Her mother certainly knows how to get under her skin. “We may be able to help him. Which is why I want you to help us convince Father to release him into our care.”

Roza shook her head. “You want your father to let a traitor escape without consequences?”

“We’ll return him once his mind has been healed.”

“That’s not what it will look to the north. It will look like their leader, the one they expect to embody Victory’s ideals, is using his authority to spare his son when he would never allow another to do the same.”

Alana bites her lip under her mother’s glare and holds her silence so I take the opportunity to cut in. “We wouldn’t be asking you for help if it looked good.”

“I suppose you wouldn’t,” Roza scoffs. “But…no, I don’t think I will.”

“Why not?” Alana barks. “He could die.”

“Yes, I understand that. What I don’t understand is why you think that’s a bad thing.” She holds up a hand to forestall Alana’s immediate rebuttal. “Let’s imagine the best possible future. Your father agrees to release Khan to you, you heal his mind, and he spills everything he knows to you. What then?”

Her mocking gaze moves between us until Alana offers up a hesitant answer. “I don’t know but that shouldn’t stop us from saving his life.”

“Wrong,” Roza snaps while pointing at her daughter. “The consequences are always more important than the action. Especially for the two of you. You’re practically drowning in ability. It’s not a question of if you can do something. Accomplishing a goal is as easy as snapping your fingers. The only thing you need to consider is the consequences and that means they have to be considered twice as deeply.

“If you take responsibility for Khan, then you are responsible for him to the end. Imagine it, sunshine. He can never return to the north again. Even if your father can be convinced as to the sanctity of his mind and his allegiance, no one else can. And if he can’t return to Victory, what will he do? Can he be a hunter? The thought is hilarious. Will he join a southern knight order? A joke. Take his chances with another noble house? None of them have any connection to the James. If they accept him, I suspect it can only be to discover the north’s secrets.”

“Aren’t you narrowing his options a little too much?” I ask. This is what rumor mongers do. They direct the conversation until their audience sees things as they want them to be seen. The greatest defense against their methods is someone with a wide and skeptical perspective. “There are life paths that don’t involve fighting.”

“Oh, how amusing! Go on, Alana. Imagine your brother joining the bards in taverns. Or sewing clothes. Perhaps hard labor, sowing fields and building roads. Tell me, what other career can a James son have?”

Alana winces but bravely offers up, “He is a good cartographer. Surely, someone will value that skill.”

“Yes, if he could hold a conversation long enough with a stranger to market himself. Or if he knew the value of his skill. Has he ever handled a bag of crowns in his life? Can you say he won’t be swindled by the merchants of the kingdom? I have no hope for him at all.

“Face it. If you save him here, you will be responsible for him for the rest of your life. His failures, his successes. Everything he does from that point forward can be laid at your feet. What if his loyalty really isn’t caused by the manipulation of his mind, as we all have been assuming? What will you do if you find that he has genuinely sided with those creatures? If he forges an alliance between them and the nervous nobles of the kingdom? Can you take responsibility, Alana?”

“Stop talking nonsense,” Alana snaps. “He wouldn’t—"

“He might, Alana. You may be unwaveringly loyal but that is not the standard for all people. And if he does, can you strike him down? You balk at his death now. How much harder will it be to do it yourself?”

She sneers. “I’m trying to spare you from that. Spare you from letting the burden of his life stain the rest of your life and your reputation. You don’t have to take responsibility for it. Mommy wants you to keep being a shining ray of light. That’s why I do all the dirty work. Let me take care of you.”

Alana bites her lip, cowled as she thinks. I shake my head. This woman really knows how to get to her. Or maybe it’s because it’s her mother that she is having a hard time remaining stalwart.

“You’re talking about the worst scenarios but what about the best?” I ask, drawing their attention to me. “What if Khan has truly been compromised by the estrazi? If he betrayed his family against his will, doesn’t he deserve the chance to be saved? Isn’t the chance for information to end a war that you have been fighting for generations worth compromising tradition one time?”

“That’s where you are wrong. Victory is so strong because we never compromise tradition.” She scoffs. “I may twist facts and use deceiving words to keep people happy, but I never go against the will of the north. Ever.” She has a point. Whatever their faults, the people of Victory are steadfast in their beliefs. “If that is the best scenario, it doesn’t compare to the worst.”

“Then let’s talk about the worst. Khan siding with the estrazi. Betrayal is terrible but if it’s true, you have an open line of communication with the enemy. He seems to think they are the best thing besides mushrooms. If that is an intentional perception implanted by the estrazi, they may be trying to send a message that they desire a different end to your long conflict besides one side being annihilated. Have you thought of that?”

“Have you thought that it could be a simple deception to make us drop our guards? Draw our leaders out with the promise of negotiations to bring them all down at once?”

“You’ve been losing for centuries. Do they need tricks? They have…have you read the report we handed the duke?”

“Of course.”

Liar. Her features give nothing away but her heart rate spikes. I guess her powers don’t extend that far. At the end of the day, she isn’t a James, is she? “Then you know they don’t need petty tricks.”

“A titan will use the same strength to kill one knight as it would a hundred. You can never have too many means.”

It’s my turn to scoff. “Is this a discussion? You aren’t considering our request at all, just bludgeoning us with your reasoning until we give in.”

Roza smiles sharply. “Maybe you understand something of the north after all.”

“Is this it?” Alana’s voice is low and full of venom. She slowly rises from her chair, glaring down at her mother with a heavy frown. “Is this why you pushed me so hard? Is this my great destiny that you spoke of every night? Did I toil for years and years to do the same thing every James before me has done? To die the same death?”

Her mother’s face is ugly with too much emotion. “Sunshine—"

“I told you to stop calling me like that!” her daughter snaps ruthlessly. “Answer me. Do you believe in me? Did you ever believe in me? Or am I just a convenient tool? A face to hide behind as you rule the north?”

“Of course not!” Roza jumps to her feet. “Sun—Alana, you can’t mean that.”

“I can’t? Right now, I am making a decision for Victory. One I think will benefit everyone. I do it knowing that it skirts, if not outright defies, tradition. You say that you do what you do to support me yet you have done nothing but argue against me since we’ve sat down.”

“I only want to protect—"

“I don’t want your protection!” Alana shouts, cutting her off. “You didn’t care about protecting me when you urged me to fight in the campaigns! You didn’t care about protecting me during training! You wanted me to be a leader? This! This is me leading. So, tell me Mother. Are you going to support me?”

My heart thumps in excitement as they stare at each other for several long moments. That’s my Alana. Strong, stubborn, and decisive. An Alana her mother apparently isn’t used to handling. It takes a long time, the minutes dragging on, but she is the first to break, shoulders slumping with a deep sigh.

“The other mothers always told me children go through a rebellious phase. I suppose part of my job is letting you make your mistakes and protecting you anyway. Very well, sunshine. I’ll support you.”