Page 139 of Blood Feast

“Especially after that.”

Lio focused on defending himself from Mak’s next several attacks, waiting for his cousin to speak.

“Well,” Mak finally burst out. “What did you think, then?”

“It’s brilliant. The Blood Errant should have brought this before the firstbloods eight hundred years ago. But they didn’t. You’re the first Hesperine who has ever dared.”

“I doubt that makes me braver than them. Just more impulsive, and that’s saying something.”

“If Hespera worshipers had taken the safe path and respected authority, we would have been crushed under the Orders’ heels long ago.”

“You sound like Kia.”

“She’s not wrong, Mak. Orthros has forgotten that heresy is our greatest strength.” Lio saw Mak’s morning star sliding low again and braced himself for the impact.

Mak trapped the end of Lio’s staff between the spikes on his club. “Maybe her mother is right. If we don’t follow some rules, we’re no better than the Orders, throwing our might around for our beliefs.”

Their weapons locked, and they stood in another stalemate. “I’m a diplomat with a weapon in my hands. I’m in no position to philosophize about whether we’re hypocrites or not. But I’m certain of one thing. I trust the warrior who made this weapon.”

Mak closed both hands around the grip of his club and heaved Lio’s staff away.

Lio danced backward under the momentum and just managed to keep the staff balanced in both his hands.

Mak didn’t push forward this time. “Why?”

“You made this weapon for only one reason.”

Mak snorted. “To get us all exiled, apparently.”

“No, you lunkhead. You crafted them out of love.”

“I thought you said you weren’t going to philosophize.”

“I’m not. That’s simply a fact. Your love for all of us is evident in every line of that proposal.”

“I want to know what the proposal says,” Cassia spoke up from the sidelines.

Mak let his club dangle from his hand, looking from Lio to their watching Graces.

“So would I,” Lyros said.

“What?” Lio turned to him. “You mean you haven’t read it?”

Lyros shook his head. “I picked up some of it from our Union while Mak was writing it. But he won’t show it to me.”

“Love.” Lio gave Mak a look. “You were trying to protect your Grace.”

Mak sighed. “Fine. I’ll summarize for everyone because if I let Lio explain it, we’ll be here all night. My proposal requests approval from the firstbloods and the Queens for the Stewards to carry weapons. Only the Stewards, mind. I’ll turn in my speires before I let just anyone stroll through Orthros with blades. That would only make our Sanctuary less safe.”

“That’s a good policy,” Cassia said. “The Stewards are rigorously trained and already understand what it means to bear the burden of violence for our people. You have learned to fight with Mercy and proved you will wield weapons with compassion.”

“My proposal also requires the Stewards to be of age, with full rank in the Stand. Trainees shouldn’t have weapons.”

Lio chuckled. “You wrote that line for Bosko, clearly.”

Mak’s gaze fell. “I want him to have the same experience we did, learning how to use his fists for the Goddess, before he ever touches adamas.”

“Tell them about your plan for crafting more weapons,” Lio encouraged.

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