Page 139 of Children of Fallen Gods

If I hadn’t been so shocked myself, I would have burst out laughing. It took me several long seconds to wrap my mind around what Ishqa had just said.

Pristine, traditional, well-behaved Ishqa.

“That’s essentially treason,” Ashraia growled, attempting to lower his voice and doing a poor job of it. Only Ishqa’s eyes moved, shooting Ashraia a withering stare.

“As general, I was given supreme authority on this mission. Even if I were to contact our Queen and seek permission, we would not get a response for days or weeks. In light of what we’ve seen, I don’t believe we have that time to waste.”

“But the Nirajans are—”

“— the only ones likely to actually know anything. Yes.”

Ishqa’s gaze slid back to me. His face remained stoic as marble, but I could have sworn I saw a glimmer of laughter in his eyes.

“Is your mouth open because you intend to contribute to this conversation, Aefe?”

I closed my mouth and scowled.

Ishqa actually smiled.

“I’m glad you have some sense,” I sniffed.

“Some indeed.” Then he crossed his arms over his chest and surveyed me, the smile replaced with a thoughtful frown.

“Traditions may not be our only problem,” he said. “The Nirajans may not be especially welcoming to a pair of Sidnee.”

“Perhaps a small possibility,” Siobhan muttered, letting out a sarcastic scoff.

It was a fair point.

All of the Fey Houses had cast Niraja into excommunication, marking the kingdom and all its citizens as irreversibly tainted. That alone was bad enough. But the Sidnee — led by my father, when he was still just a young man — had been the only house to attempt to smite the Nirajans completely. More than half of their population had been killed by the Sidnee. It was that battle, in fact, that had earned my father his honor… and my mother’s hand in marriage.

Of its own accord, my left arm twitched.

I knew those stories well. They were inked into my skin, my tribute to my bloodline’s greatest victories. But for reasons I couldn’t understand, I now felt inexplicably uncomfortable. The Sidnee told of these stories often. The story was always the same — the brave, skilled young warrior, driving away the corrupted. And all my life, I had dreamed of leading such a conquest myself. Such a victory had earned him the respect of the Sidnee. And such a victory could earn me his respect, too.

Now? I blinked back the memory of those corpses in Yithara, split open and bleeding on the ground. Is that what it had been like?

I shuddered and shook away the thought. “We do not have to tell them that we’re Sidnee,” I said. “That goes without saying.”

Siobhan shook her head. “Simply not telling them won’t be enough.” She gestured down at herself. Her leathers. The tattoos. All unmistakable marks of the Sidnee Blades.

“No, it won’t be.” A certain spark leeched into Ishqa’s eyes as he looked from Siobhan, to me. “But we can be creative.”

* * *

“You look ridiculous.”

Caduan’s voice was low as he leaned over my shoulder to murmur in my ear.

I scowled and resisted the urge to snap at him.

“Aefe, none of this will be terribly convincing if you don’t stop.”

“Stop what?”

Ishqa arched his eyebrows. “That,” he said, gesturing broadly at my entire person.

I threw my hands up. An inordinate amount of chiffon fabric rippled with the movement. “This is unreasonable.”

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