ravaged hearts

CHAPTER THIRTEEN,

  Chevalier eyed her ally. It was immensely awkward. Louis had pulled Celinos and Anita to the side and was quietly speaking to them, looking quite firm. Once in a while, he glanced at the two Falcons to ensure they weren't listening. With those three out of commission temporarily, Constanza and Io swooped in to take command of the situation.

  "Why won't you tell us, then?" Constanza prodded. "Sooner or later, we will find the children. And your friends."

  "They're my friends, I don't betray my allies."

  Besides her, Chevalier winced.

  This little girl, Lilia Sorrya, anyone would underestimate her, and they'd all be a fool for doing it. Because despite her soft exterior and her doe eyes, she was made of the same steel any of them in this room was. The Meliqueans took in two kinds of people: the survivors and the warriors. Weaklings were left to die, the strong were taken in and cultivated to become the next generation of greats. It was a cynical, cold ideology. And for the most part, it worked.

  Part of Io admired the Meliqueans, really. The way they'd done things with ruthlessness. The way they'd done anything necessary for their country to progress, for their country to get the upper hand. Sai had adopted part of that mentality later on, though not to the same level. They weren't ready for that. Didn't want that. The emperor had put it quite simply: half the war they were winning against Melique was their seemingly superior moral compass in the public eye. They couldn't lose that advantage, couldn't seem to stoop to the Meliquean's level.

  If they had, the war would have been a lot faster. Sai had the numbers, the allies on their side. Melique had only had Lohia on its side and what remnants of Vayante they'd controlled.

  But Io understood the logic behind the course of action they'd taken perfectly, even  if it was a bit of an inconvenience.

  Io's eyes flickered to Chevalier's stiff body. "Oh, calm down. They don't blame you that much if they still went begging for your help. Unless I've been reading this all wrong and it was meant to be a threatening note?"

Sorrya didn't look Io in the eye, confirming her suspicions. This little band of Falcons had nowhere the amount of power to form a proper, dangerous threat. If they did, they'd never have had to turn to Chevalier in the first place. The Falcons did not take kindly to traitors and cowards. Both of which Fiora Chevalier had been.

  Nothing bad in either, though. It was self-preservation. And for some people, their own survival took precedence above all. It wasn't selfish. It was just human nature.

  Io'd probably have picked herself too.

  "I'm not then," Io said, a bit pleased with herself and unable to hide the smug tone in her voice. She shared a look with Constanza, who seemed more exasperated than anything. How their roles had turned around in the years that'd passed. Io still remembered being instructed by Danna to mentor Constanza. And now Constanza was acting the role of the tired babysitter on the verge of giving up.

  (Time changed everything. Nothing remained the same. The people and the things that did were quickly eliminated, forgotten about, replaced by newer friendships, newer toys; better friendships, better toys.)

  (There was no way around it. Life was constantly shifting and changing and it flowed as quickly as water. There was no grasping it, there was no slowing it down. You just hung onto the waves and saw where it brought you, praying it was the sunny beaches instead of treacherous rocks.)

  (If it was the latter, the only way was to do your best to avoid the sharpest ones and make do with your wounds and scars. Maybe you'd even wear them like a trophy, displaying them so proudly. Let the whole world see: whatever you can throw at me, I've already gone through worse and survived to flaunt the consequences in front of you.)

  Fiora shook her head. "That's what I don't get. Why me? I've shown myself as untrustworthy."

  "Desperation," Io said. "Only reason is desperation. How many Falcons, Sorrya?"

  She shook her head firmly. "I'm not telling you anymore than I've already had."

  "You've told us more than enough, I suppose." Io sighed. She turned to the Enrique Zevallos twins who Louis had just released from their talking down. Neither seemed too pleased. Io gave Louis a quick, approving nod. He blinked, momentarily nonplussed. Io ignored that and turned to Anita and Celinos instead. "You want to be in charge? Deal with these two."

  Louis let out an exasperated breath. "For the love of—" The twins had already swept into action without a word, asking for the guards to escort them to their shelter for the night, a rather comfortable, wiccai-proof cell. Tested by Louis, probably. He was the only wiccai she knew the Vayanteans had.

  Most likely Io would be finding a bird or two posted outside the two's cell, courtesy of Louis, keeping tabs on them. If the birds were careful enough and had excellent memory, anything Sorrya and Chevalier said to each other would reach their ears soon without issue.

  Though Louis' wiccai status was a secret no longer, so they might be more careful about it.  Especially if they're served a cell with an outward-facing window.

  No issue.

  It seemed as if it was time to hunt down her estranged father. Her favourite hobby, really, truly. Her favourite thing to do.

  She was lying, of course.