Page 207 of Mother of Death and Dawn

But Iya’s letter was far less concerned with Nura’s whereabouts than it was for the impacts in Ara. Iya wrote:

Nura has been gone long enough that many people are starting to murmur about how they might fill the gap she left behind.But there are few powerful names left in Ara, and fewer still that have a claim, even tenuously, to either the throne or the title of Arch Commandant. In fact—I can only think of one.

I write this knowing that if it is found, my head will be rolling down the Palace steps.

But, Maxantarius Farlione, I strongly recommend that you return to Ara as soon as possible.

Your time in Ilyzath has only martyred you in the eyes of most Aran citizens.

Your relationship with Tisaanah brings with you foreign allies and wins the hearts of our more romantic people.

Your military background appeases the militaristic.

Your Wielder background appeases the Orders.

Your noble blood appeases the traditionalists.

Come now. As fast as your magic can carry you.

The Council will support you.

I could tell when Sammerin finished reading the letter because he let out a long, slow breath that ended in a muttered curse.

I looked to Tisaanah, whose expression was oddly unreadable.

“The Roseteeth would fight for you,” Brayan said. “If you made a play for that throne, you would not only have a strong claim for all the reasons Iya listed, but also because you’d have the most powerful private army in the world at your back.”

“Is the Roseteeth Company willing to participate in coups?” Ishqa said. He spoke of it like we were debating what to have for dinner, and the casual use of the word “coup” made me feel physically ill.

Brayan shrugged. “They’re an army, and they do what armies do.”

“No,” I said. “Absolutely fucking not. This is an idiotic idea.”

Ishqa said, infuriatingly calmly, “Why not?”

“Why not?You’re asking me to steal the Ascended-damned throne of Ara. You just used the word ‘coup’ to describe what this would be.”

“And what word would we use to describe what Nura did?” Brayan said. “Would we call that a legitimate succession? Hell, would we call whatAldrisdid a legitimate succession?”

“That’s your argument? Everyone is usurping left and right, so we might as well jump in on it?”

I leveled a glare at Brayan, my jaw grinding. He met my stare combatively.

Did he think I didn’t know why he so wanted me to do this? He wanted a Farlione on the throne, with all the status that implied. Brayan had always put so much weight in this sort of thing.

“He’s right,” Sammerin said, quietly. “You are just as legitimate a ruler as Nura is. Probably more. And if you were to do this, it would give you the ability to end this war.”

“It would force me to finish a war that has already started.”

I couldn’t think of anything worse than that. Overseeing a million unavoidable deaths.

“Besides,” I said, “I can’t end a war by myself. I could show up, promise to be better, very publicly decry all future sadistic magical torture, and the Fey could still—rightfully, I might say—decide to wipe Ara off the face of the earth.”

For the first time, Tisaanah spoke. “And this is all so far ahead of where we stand today. How do we know we would not just be sending him to his death? What if Nura returns to Ara before he does?”

Ishqa paced the room, his hands clasped in front of him, looking deep in thought. At last, he turned to us.

“There is something else you should consider,” he said. “Something that I have been working on that may make things… easier.”

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