The governor's home was really too small for the important rebels, valkyries and elves to inhabit, but it was their only option. No one was particularly interested in lodging their conquerors so the houses of the dead would have to do.

The halls were empty at this time of night, though, so Jasper still had the corridors to himself. He wandered through the palace aimlessly, barely registering the endless wealth that he could have never dreamt of when he was just a rebel in the Midlands. A lifetime ago, when his whole world was an expanse of desert and a rebellion that seemed to be constantly accumulating graves.

He paused by the door to his mother's room, and for a moment he thought he would open it. For a moment he felty himself needing to let the truth pour out, painful and horrible as it was. The moment passed and he was left staring at a moonlit door he could never bring himself to open.

How could you tell your aunt that you had betrayed everything she loved and fought for? That you destroyed everything she had worked for for sixteen years? That you had the blood of your father and friends on your hands?

How could you ever be such a coward, such a traitor, as to hide it from her?

"Can't sleep?" called a voice from behind him. He whirled around to see familiar blue eyes staring at him in the darkness. Myra

"Just thinking," he replied.

"Likewise," she said and sighed.

"What about?"

"Someone who asks too many questions," she answered, a weak retort at best. "Just someone back...home."

"Why aren't they here?" he asked.

"She's a Keeper, not a warrior."

"A friend?"

"Not exactly..." she said absently.

"I see..." he said.

"My daughter, you imbecile!" she retorted, going red

"You have a daughter?"

"Yes. Why so surprised?"

"You never struck me as...motherly. And I still don't understand how valkyrie children walk out of the sea," Jasper complained. "So, you...adopted her?"

"Yes."

"What's her name?"

"Kestra."

"Isidore?"

"Lluvia. She's not an Isidore-the name isn't hereditary. It belongs to the Heirs and the Queens only."

"She isn't your Heir?"

"The title is given through merit, not ancestry. She's a Keeper anyway-couldn't be my heir if we all wanted her to be."

"So, who is your heir?"

"General Ruby was." A flicker of pain flashed in her eyes. She hadn't spoken about the general at all since she had fallen. "Unofficially, of course. Only Vera and Viktoria have official heirs."

"You and..."

"None of your business. The Keeper Heir's identity is secret, thank you very much."

"Even to members of the War Council?"

"You're human, Jasper. Viktoria and Vera would kill me if I told you who she was."

"So, it's a she?"

"Of course, it's a she. It's an all-female nation, Jasper! It couldn't very well be a he, could it?"

"Right. Yes." A silence fell over them, mostly helped by Myra.

"So, what were you thinking about?" she asked at last.

"My aunt," he said at last.

"You can't hide this much longer, Jasper."

"Why not? Lying seems to be the only thing I'm good for."

"No, it's not."

"Really? I get my friends killed again and again and then I lie my way back into my mother's trust. I'm worthless, Myra. Everyone who trusts me ends up dead."

"You're not worthless to me."

"The only reason you're saying that is because you pity me."

"What's done is done. You can't wipe those two years away. You can only go on."

"I keep doing this, Myra. Every time I try to change, I am still a coward!"

"Then change it. Go to your aunt right now and tell her the truth."

"I can't! If I do that, I have to look her in the eyes and watch her hate me. If I do that, I will have nobody left!"

"That's not true, Jasper. You have me. You will always have me."

"No, I won't. You live in another world, Myra. You always have. I am human, and you are a valkyrie, and in this world, we must live apart, separated by an isthmus and generations of hate. If I tell my aunt what I did, then I will have nowhere to go and no one to turn to."

"You don't know that. You don't know she'll hate you afterwards."

"What would you do if Kestra betrayed all of this—everything you've ever worked for? If she was responsible for the deaths of Viktoria, Vera, Ruby, Calais? And if you insist on saying you care about me, then what would you do if she killed me as well? Because that is what I have done to my aunt. I have taken away her friends and destroyed all her work, because I. Was. Afraid."

He left Myra standing alone before she could call after him. He would feel bad for it later, but he had to push her away for her own good. The ones who trusted him, the ones who cared about him only ended up with pain.

---------------

He dreamt.

As always, he dreamt of them. His uncle, his friends, his mentors. He remembered all their names, and he remembered the ways that they had died. The look on their faces when they realised, he was responsible.

Garrick, who had sacrificed his life trying and failing to save them when Jasper had not. The look in his eyes was hate.

His father, a sword in his heart, watching him with pain.

Natalie, an arrow in her neck, filled with shock.

Evelina, a dagger in her side, filled with sorrow.

Then the dreams began to shift. He saw the empress' soldiers chaining Myra, and the look in her eyes chilled him to the bone. Shock and pain and sorrow. Seeds of hatred blooming in her face.

Nala, fleeing the Empress herself, her hatred just as chilling as Myra's.

And then...darkness.

He saw their faces all at once, watching him.

"Tell her," they chanted. "Tell her the truth!"

He pleaded and begged and argued, but they continued to chant, unsympathetic.

"Tell her the truth," they said over and over again, until he woke with a start.

"Tell her the truth," he whispered to himself. "Is that it, then? Is that what you want?"

Tell her the truth, the voices echoed. Tell her.

"Fine! Fine, I will!"

---------------

He stood before her door, his hand clenched to knock.He wanted to run, needed to run.

He knocked three times at the door and part of him wanted for her not to hear. But she did. He listened to her muffled footsteps as she came closer. There she was, facing him with the green eyes that she shared. There was no going back now.

"Jasper," she smiled. "It's a little early."

"I need to talk to you," he said, the words tripping over themselves to get out.

"Of course. Come in," she insisted. They sat down together on her bed and he drew a deep breath.

"I lied to you before, about what happened two years ago. I-I was on guard, next to the bell, when they came. The soldiers offered me a deal: if I didn't ring the bell, if I didn't warn them, they would let me live. I tried to reach for the bell. I really tried. But I was too afraid. They died because I was a coward, and then the soldiers took me to the army. I earned my captain's badge killing my own.

"Then I saw you. I told you to run, and I realised that the soldiers under my command were waiting to kill me. I deserted, and I tried to flee to the South. My ship was caught in a storm and blown to Miras. The valkyries caught us and took me prisoner. I lied to buy back my place in the rebellion, to establish ties between Miras and the other rebellion. I wanted to make it all up to them-I truly did."

He hadn't explained it well at all, but he didn't think there was any way to do it right.

His aunt just looked at him, shocked into silence. The look on her face was nothing like he expected-blank and cold.

"Please say something," he begged. "Please just say something."

"Get out,"she told him softly, but not weakly. "Get out."