“There is no shame in remembering that pain, Lyros. It makes us fight harder.”
His green eyes slid toward her again. He gave a short sigh. “You’re right.”
“Both of us remember when we were truly alone, treated like castoffs by someone who should have nurtured us.”
“All my human parents did was birth me onto the streets and walk away. I’ve always thought I was better off never knowing them. You went through much worse with your sire.”
“Would you stop trying to be a stoic warrior for a moment? I know we can both recall the first time Hesperines made us feel like we mattered. I dare say you could tell me the exact night you stopped fighting for your own survival and started fighting out of love for them instead.”
He didn’t tell her, but she could feel it in his aura. A powerful memory of when he, young and vulnerable, had discovered his cause for the rest of eternity.
Cassia poked him in the arm. “I bet it was when Mak made those matching heart pendants when you two were sucklings.”
“It was not,” Lyros protested with indignation, dodging her next poke. But now he was laughing more and brooding less.
He caught her around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “You don’t have to play mind healer for me, Cassia. The theramancers already went through all of this with me when I was a suspicious little brat, unwilling to trust my Hesperine parents.”
“And prone to thieving their valuables to hide in a treasure stash in your room.”
Lyros flushed. “Lio told you that story?”
Cassia tried not to chuckle. “I’m impressed. You managed to snatch a small fortune before Timarete and Astrapas found out. You could have run away and become a very wealthy child-king of your own ring of thieves. But you didn’t. Because you loved your new parents already.”
“Of course I did. And like all angry sucklings, I eventually realized they love me, even if they don’t love all the worry I’ve caused them over the years.”
“That’s the only reason your parents offered you a way out of the battle arts,” Cassia said. “And the only reason Mak suggested you take it. They love you.”
“I know that.”
She nodded. “Of course you do. But it still hurt.”
“I’m not hurt. I’m offended.”
“It wasn’t an insult to your skills as a warrior.”
“It was an insult to my honor. I may be a failed artist and a derelict Steward, but I will not desert my Grace.”
“Lyros, it wasn’t failure that turned you into a Steward. The battle arts are your calling. We all know you belong in speires. Mak wasn’t questioning that.”
“I know that,” Lyros insisted.
She suspected he knew it but didn’t feel it. When Timarete and Astrapas had chosen him as their son, he had gained a family at last, only for his talents to be incompatible with their hopes for him. She knew from spending time around Lyros and his family that he still didn’t feel like he belonged in his own bloodline.
He hadn’t found his place as a Hesperine until he’d taken up the battle arts and become one of the few in Orthros’s history to join the Stand from outside Hippolyta’s family.
And now he felt as if the people he loved the most were telling him he didn’t belong there, either.
He was right—she was no mind healer who could talk him out of years of lies he told himself. Not when she was still so prone to lying to herself. But she was family, and she could listen and give him the gift of her new empathy.
He turned away, bracing his fists on the parapet again, hanging his head. “How could Mak imagine I would abandon him?”
His hurt filled the Blood Union, squeezing Cassia’s heart. “All I can tell you is what went through my mind when I told Lio tolet me get arrested without him. Nothing. I wasn’t thinking at all, Lyros. With my whole heart, I was feeling the need to protect him at any cost.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “And here I thought you were being strategic.”
“Well, ensuring you and Lio went free did prove to be a good plan, but my point still stands. I’ll be the first to admit it’s difficult to be rational when the protective Grace instincts come over you. Mak wasn’t thinking either, I suspect. Only feeling. Even though he should have thought before he spoke.”
“Yes. He should have.” Lyros grimaced. “But I…could have taken it as he intended it.”