I looked forward, at the narrow road ahead and the snow-heavy needles. “But does the present really make amends for the past?”
Casteel didn’t answer immediately. “Who is the judge of that? The gods? They sleep. Society? How can they make decisions unbiasedly when they are prejudiced by their own sins?” he questioned, and I had no answer. “Let me ask you this. Do you blame Vikter?”
I frowned. “For what?”
“He was like a father to you, Poppy. He had to know how much you struggled with the whole Maiden thing. Even if he didn’t realize how much you struggled, he had to have seen it.”
The last conversation I’d had with Vikter, right before the attack at the Rite, had been about how I truly felt being the Maiden.
“And he knew what the Duke was doing to you, didn’t he? But he didn’t stop it,” he added quietly.
I craned my head to the side. “What could he have done? If he spoke one word or intervened, he would’ve been fired and ostracized, and that is a fate close to a death sentence. Or, he would’ve been killed. And then I wouldn’t have been trained. I never would’ve learned how to defend myself. Vikter did everything he could,” I defended vehemently. “Just like my mother and father did the night they were killed.”
“But one could argue that the right thing would’ve been to intervene. To stop the Duke from hurting you,” he said. “And I know I’m not one to talk about doing the right thing, but he could’ve chosen the more difficult path. Either way, you don’t hold it against him. And if you did, you’ve forgiven him, right?”
Heart aching, I faced forward. “There was nothing to forgive. But he…you heard what he said to me before he died.”
“He apologized for failing you,” Casteel confirmed.
Tears burned the backs of my eyes. His last words ever spoken were brutal. I hadn’t regretted what I’d said to him before the attack, but now? Now, I wished I hadn’t spoken so freely. I would do anything for Vikter to have died feeling as if he’d done right by me. And he had done just that to the best of his ability. He was the reason I could hold a sword and fire an arrow, fight with my hands and my mind.
“I think Vikter knew that you never held his inaction against him, but whether or not he believed he’d done all that he could was up to him,” Casteel continued softly. “I think it comes down to whether you can make amends with yourself.”
I saw the point he was making, but I didn’t know if anything I did from this moment on would be enough to erase being a silent party to the Ascended.
“In the meantime, while you try to figure out if you can make amends with yourself, it helps to find someone to blame. And in your case—and Vikter’s—blame can be shared.”
“With the Ascended?” I surmised.
“Do you not agree?”
The Ascended created the system Vikter and I and everyone else became a part of, unintentionally reinforced, and ultimately became victims of in different ways. My mother hadn’t been able to defend herself or me because of the limitations the Ascended placed upon women. Families handed over their children to the Court or to the Temples because the Ascended taught them it was the only way to appease the gods and then used the very monsters they created to reinforce those fears. Mr. Tulis made the choice to shove a knife deep inside me, but the kingdom the Ascended created was what drove him to that. Vikter could never speak against the Duke without repercussions that would’ve either had him removed from my life completely or ended his. And I…
I had my freedom stripped from me and was kept so sheltered that I could turn to no one with my suspicions. And the Queen, she who cared for me so tenderly, was the foundation of that system. There was no denying that. Nor was there any denying that the system would only strengthen and grow unless access to the Atlantians was cut off. Even without the ability to make more Ascended, they would still be strong if they remained in control. If Casteel’s father did not go to war against them.
But war was never one-sided. Casualties always piled up on both sides, and the losses were always the greatest among the most innocent. Many of those who would be free if Atlantia went to war with Solis would die before they even realized how much they’d been chained.
“Yes. They are to blame,” I said finally, raggedly. I had no idea how we strayed so far off topic. Brushing a stray piece of hair back from my face, I cleared my throat. “So, there is your answer to why I’ve been quiet. If I’d known that insulting and threatening you would convince others of our agreement, I would’ve pulled a knife on you this morning in the banquet hall.”