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He shook his head. “Lysander made the right call. It is for your own benefit.”

Idonea’s laugh came sharp. “That’s what you said when you left.” Her voice trembled once. “When you took little Dyota.”

He cleared his throat.

She pressed on. “Where is she now, Alcaeus? What happened to my younger sister?”

“I thought you wouldn’t ask.”

“Of course you did.” She rose from her chair. “She was only five. And you took her. From her mother. From me.”

“Dyota had a better chance with me,” he said.

“Don’t.” Her voice cracked. “Don’t feed me that.”

"Your mother—" He stopped. His jaw worked. "Nellith and I disagreed on many things."

Idonea sucked in a breath. "What things?"

"It doesn't matter—"

"It matters." Her voice was very level. "I have been looking for her. I have come into your village at a Severant's offer because the only thing in the world I want to know is where she is and what was happening to her, and that relic. So what things, Alcaeus. Be specific."

He turned away from her. He stood at the mantel with his back to her.

"She had begun to talk about vessels," he said. "About workings I didn't recognise. I asked her where she was reading, and she wouldn't tell me. I asked her what the workings were for, and she wouldn't tell me. Toward the end she'd taken to writing in a hand small enough that no one but herself could read it. I asked her once if I should be afraid. She said—" his jaw worked again "—she said only an unprepared husband had any reason to be."

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know, Idonea. I have never known. I have spent fifteen years not knowing. I took Dyota because she was the younger and she was the one your mother hadn't been with the most in those last months. That is what I had. I didn't have anything else."

There was a long silence.

"It doesn't matter now." He averted his eyes. “Dyota had to be sent to the Radiant Reformation College.”

The words landed like a blow. “What?”

He stood from his chair. “I made the choice that kept her alive longest.” He walked over to the mantelpiece above the fireplace. “The corruption within her needed to be cleansed.”

Idonea’s hand slammed against the headrest. “You sent her there?” Nausea rolled hard through her stomach. She’d only heard whispers of it. A tower where the Republic locked up witches to convert them, change their path.

He lifted his head, eyes hollow. “I tried to save her. You must know I tried.”

“You handed her to them and called it mercy."

“I took her from Nellith so she’d live.” His fingers tightened on the edge of the mantel.

“You took her from the only people who would’ve loved her.”

Alcaeus drew in a sharp breath, then reached for a frame on the mantel. His hand trembled as he turned it towards her. “She’s been gone for three years now.”

The firelight brushed over the glass. Idonea forgot to breathe. Dyota’s face stared out, dark hair tangled and eyes bright. Older, but still Dyota.

Idonea’s hand rose, hesitant, then she took the frame. Her thumb brushed the edge. “She looks just like—” The word me caught in her throat.

Her eyes burned. “Did she remember me?”

He closed his eyes and shook his head.