Genevieve Cogman

“I honestly thought you’d be happier if you knew nothing about it for the rest of your life. Was I wrong?”

Irene slumped in her chair. “No, you weren’t. Everyone’s going to say that, aren’t they? ’It was for your own good.’”

“Something you’ll learn as you get older is that truth and reconciliation may be necessary for nations, but it isn’t necessarily best for individuals.”

If my friends—my brothers and sisters—have sacrificed themselves, then it was their choice. You, on the other hand, have lied to us and kept us in the dark and used us. You’re probably going to tell me that you did it for a higher cause, that you were just protecting us. But true higher causes don’t have everyone deserting them when they find out the truth, grandmother. Genuine ethical purposes don’t have everyone walking out once they know what’s really going on. And causes that people care enough to die for…”

“Everyone’s being hypocritical,” she muttered. “Is there anyone around here who doesn’t want something from us while acting innocent? We need to find out what’s really going on before everyone does the wrong thing for the right reasons.”

“May I be frank?” Sherrington asked.

Irene sighed. This was always the sign of a fast-approaching insult.

I think the time for blind trust is long over. Now I need answers.

I don’t care about politics or the greater good or universal peace or whatever. I just want to be left in peace with books.

“But don’t make the same mistakes that we have, Irene.” Her mouth quirked in a smile. “Make some new ones.”

It was the sort of overly complex plan dreamed up by armchair manipulators who thought they could play chess with the universe and didn’t realize that the universe ignored rulebooks.

“Life was much easier before I had to worry about everyone else worrying,” Irene muttered.

“It’s called growing up, dear. It comes with staying alive.”

“Nothing lasts,” he said, his voice guttural with age and remembered pain. “Neither knowledge, nor skill, nor family, nor the bond between master and student. In another thousand years I will be gone. And in time you both will pass as well, and this place will be dust. For all that we pride ourselves on our power and our length of years, Prince Kai, ultimately dragons too are as fleeting as fireflies. There was a time when we never existed; there will also come a time when nobody will remember us. War changes to peace. But, ultimately, peace collapses into war and the cycle continues.”

“I’ve told you before, sir, you will be remembered as long as my fathers kingdom lasts.” Shan Yuan spoke with affection, clearly repeating an old reassurance.

“That’s not as reassuring as you might think.”

You must surely know by now, Winters, that a leader’s authority is limited to giving her followers orders that they will actually obey.

Don’t you realize you have a responsibility to other people to look after yourself?