Maven brushes a hand over my dust map, wiping away West Archeon with a few strokes of his fingers. “Legions are loyal to their generals. And I happen to know a girl who knows a general very well.” When his eyes meet mine, all his fire is gone, replaced now by bitter cold. He smiles tightly. “You’re talking about Cal.” The soldier. The general. The prince. His father’s son. Again I think of Julian, of the uncle Cal would kill for his twisted version of justice. Cal would never betray his country, not for anything. When Maven answers, it’s matter-of-fact. “We give him a hard choice.”
