Page 132 of Requiem of Silence

Papa’s brows descended and he leaned in closer. “What are you talking about? You haven’t ever truly failed at something you’ve set your mind to.”

Feelings he’d pushed back for a long time were very close to the surface. Zeli’s face, hurt and disappointed, flashed through his mind. “Yes, I have.”

“No, son. I don’t know what you think—”

“It was my fault!” The words burst out of him. “I wandered away on the mountain the day we were captured. They lured me first. If I hadn’t gone off…” He struggled to get the words out. “Neither you nor Roshon would have fallen for the trap. It was my fault. We were kidnapped and then ended up in a Yalyish prison. How can I think about taking responsibility for strangers, how can I truly accomplish anything, when I failed my own family so badly?” His throat ached from saying the words. His stomach clenched painfully.

Papa closed his eyes on a long blink. When he opened them, he grabbed Varten’s other arm and held him in place. “It wasnotyour fault. It was no one’s fault but those who took us. Blamethem. Blame the Goddess for Her interference. Blame me for being in the Goddess’s debt in the first place. You can go on up the chain, trying to find those to hold accountable.”

Varten shook his head and tried to look away, but his father forced him to hold his gaze with gentle pressure on his chin. “You chose to try to help when you heard a voice calling in distress. You didn’t know it was a trap.”

“I should have,” Varten spat.

Papa breathed deeply. “Guilt and shame are like cancers. They multiply and destroy everything in their path. Anger, too. Resentment. That’s why I would not blame you if you wanted to take your grandfather up on his offer. Regardless of all he’s done. Apology or not, when you do a wrong you should try to make it right if you can. If you can’t, you pay it forward. That is what I believe and how I’ve tried to live my life.”

His father’s steadying hands and calm voice made it easier for Varten to breathe deeply. He tried to ingest his words. “We all make mistakes,” Papa continued. “That’s part of being human. But letting the cancer of the past eat away at you hurtsyouthe most.” He tapped a finger on Varten’s chest, over his heart. “Right here.”

Varten nodded, feeling the ache in that organ more acutely now.

“You know what will help?”

“What?”

“Forgiveness. I can sense a man’s heart and his intentions. And the most powerful act that someone can take is to forgive.”

Varten sniffed. “Is that why you didn’t punch my grandfather on sight?”

Papa snorted. “I don’t want Jasminda to have to grant me a royal pardon.” He smiled sadly. “Do you think you can forgive yourself? Because I never blamed you. Roshon never blamed you.It was just you holding on to this sickness, which has only done you harm.”

His limbs felt heavy. He was cognizant of his grandfather just a few paces away, unable to understand their words, but listening with growing impatience. He put the man from his mind again. “How do I forgive myself?”

“You let it go.” Papa raised his hands, fingers spread wide and waggling.

Varten froze. “Let it go,” he whispered. “Lay down your burdens.” It was what Gilmer had told Zeli about sacrificing her fear.

Papa nodded. “Yes, your guilt is a burden. You need to release it.”

Zinadeel cleared his throat. “You realize I’m a very busy man.”

Varten held up a hand absently to stop him.

“Now see here, you—” His voice cut off with a strangle. When Varten looked up, his grandfather was gripping his throat, moving his mouth without anything coming out.

Papa looked smug. “Forgiveness doesn’t have to be immediate, and I don’t think we need to hear any more from him do we?”

“No,” Varten said. “I don’t think we do.” His mind was racing, making connections that he wasn’t fully conscious of yet, but something was forming—an idea. Gilmer’s words, Zeli’s face, his own guilt. It all meshed together in a swirl in his head, but was formulating into something more solid.

“I need to go back to the palace.”

“All right,” Papa said. “Do you want me to go with you?”

“No, stay and do what you came for. I think… I think I have an idea.”

He turned to Zinadeel, whose face was turning purple with frustration at not being able to speak. Whatever Papa had done to silence him was obviously enraging the man. Varten spoke to his grandfather in Elsiran.

“I think one day I will try to forgive you. I don’t know if you’ll deserve it or not. ButIdo. My sister and my father and my brother deserve to be free of the weight you left us with. I think Mama would want that, too—for us to forgive you. One day.”

He stepped closer to the man. “If you need to leave your wealth and businesses to someone, leave it to the poor. Leave it to people who need it. I don’t want it. My brother doesn’t, either. We don’t want anything to do with you.” His chest was heaving and he felt like he’d just run up a hundred flights of stairs.

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