Of Whispers and Daggers ✓ [TLRQ #2]

Chapter 28.2 - Leavi

His head whips toward me. "No."

"It was my notebook, Aster—not Jacin's. It was my fault the Ladies got it—I didn't secure it like you asked me to. If you want to punish someone, punish me. Let him go."

"I don't care." He stands up. "You didn't get caught. That's all they care about."

My hands spread wide. "What kind of justice is that?"

"It's not," he bites, the light of the fireplace throwing his face into dark contrast.

I step forward, voice softening. "Then if it's not just, why won't you fight against it? He—"

He cuts me off. "I fought the vote. But every time he opened his lying mouth, Leavi, he dug his hole deeper."

"Deep enough to die?" I plead.

He closes his eyes as if reigning himself in and sits back down, deflated. I sit across from him. "You don't understand. He tied up his fate with convincing them that I'm untrustworthy. Agreeing not to trust me was agreeing to kill him. The Table won't change its mind."

"Then make your sister change hers. Please, Aster."

He sits up straighter, and for a moment, I think I've finally reached him. "You can't steal messages for me anymore."

"What?" I demand, my mind racing to keep up with the shift.

His eyes bore deep into me, and for a flash, I feel exposed. "You can't bring me stolen messages anymore," he repeats more insistently. "Jacin didn't reveal who you were, but the Ladies will be watching. Their servants will be watching. The pages they bribe will be watching."

"Then save him, and I won't. I'll stay cooped up in the infirmary, quiet and perfect and out of anyone's way. Just don't let an innocent man die, and I'll do whatever you want." Fervent, I reach for his hand.

Holding his hand, holding his gaze, the expression that seemed so cold before now just seems desperate and scared. I know what he's going to say before he does, like that flash of instinctive fear just before falling. In words barely louder than the fire, he says, "I can't, Leavi." His eyes flicker in the flames like a trapped animal's. "That's not how it works, and I can't."

"There's always a way," I whisper, and my voice cracks. "Always, always, always a way." I'm begging, almost more with the universe than him.

His hand slips from mine as he rises, turning and stepping toward the bookshelf. "Don't let them kill you," he whispers back, breath trembling.

My heart sinks like a stone in the river. For the first time, I truly understand, and for the first time, I'm truly scared. He believes—honestly as he believes in magic—that he can't do a single thing to save Jacin. It's not that he won't lift his finger against the boy's fate; it's that if he did, it would be useless. Don't let them kill you. He won't try to save Jacin. I'm sure now, not because he's told me and not because he doesn't care enough. I'm sure because now I know if I were in Jacin's place, he wouldn't even try to save me.