Page 82 of Esperance

Samuel nodded. “Twoyears. And the war is still being wrapped up, even though the main fighting is over.”

“People may criticize how long the war has lasted,” Rivard said. “But is that really strong grounds for arguing the fight wasn’t worth it?”

Tam—who had been as silent as Amryn—suddenly spoke. “It’s not the strongest grounds, but it’s still a valid criticism.”

Rivard’s mouth pinched as he stared at his wife.

Tam didn’t flinch, nor did she look away.

“The fight took longer because the enemy was more pervasive than expected,” Carver said flatly. “Many people in Harvari didn’t want us there, but most were grateful. Especially when the extremists came to their villages and burned them.”

“They burned them because you were there,” Ivan said.

“Sometimes,” Carver allowed. “But mostly the extremists just wanted everyone in Harvari to unite with them, or die. They wanted every tribe, village, and city to align with their views.”

“How is the empire any different?” Ivan demanded. “You expect me to believe that the empire cares about defending the individuality and rights of another kingdom, even though it conquered all of our kingdoms?”

Amryn was surprised Ivan would so openly criticize the empire, even if he had the thin excuse of it being part of the debate.

Carver also felt a flash of surprise, but that settled quickly into a hum of satisfaction. “If you want to debate the ethics of the empire, I’m happy to do so,” he told Ivan. “Without the structure and peace the empire brings to all of us, we would be as war-torn as Harvari.”

“But we would be free.”

“Would we?” Carver asked. “We know how many battles were fought among us before the empire was formed. Maybe none of you have had to dig graves for children that didn’t survive the horrors of war, but I have. And I thank the Divinities that I’ve never had to bury children in Westmont, or anywhere else in our kingdoms due to senseless war.”

Ivan’s voice was quiet. “How many children did you kill in Harvari, General? How many children died there because of you?”

The sudden silence bristled with tension. Amryn’s fingers knotted in her skirt, and her head ached as her empathic sense was bombarded with all the conflicting emotions in the room.

Carver didn’t say anything. No protest or denial. His expression was hard, and even though he fought to control his emotions, Amryn felt his sickening guilt.

Something deep inside her shriveled.

“Enough.” Argent stood. “I think we should dismiss for the day.”

Trevill bowed his head. “Of course.”

Ivan was the first to shove back from the table. He strode to the nearest door and wrenched it open before disappearing down the hall.

More slowly, others found their feet and made their way from the room. Argent hurried around the table to reach Carver, and he spoke quietly enough that his voice didn’t carry.

Beside them, Jayveh cast a worried look toward Amryn.

Saints, she needed to get control of her expression. She gave the princess a small smile that was meant to be reassuring, but when she stood, her legs trembled a little.

Tam moved to stand beside her. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” she lied.

Tam clearly didn’t believe her. She touched her arm. “I promised to help in the gardens, but perhaps we could go on a walk later?”

“I’d like that.”

Tam nodded, then swept away.

Even though Amryn had made no plans to volunteer in the museum archives today, she could use the solitude. So she hurried out of the exit that led toward the museum.

She hadn’t made it far down the empty hall before footsteps rang out behind her.

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