Reasons

There were bushes in large pots, flowers in both pots and raised beds, and decorative ferns. Benches and chairs were scattered about, as well as more low tables; some of the seating arrangements were beneath semi-permanent awnings. Rather than a fountain, the rooftop garden was arranged around a fire pit, with braziers interspersed across the space, all unlit at this time of year.

“You have good timing,” Jemiina said. “The house sponsored a little get-together to watch the fireworks from this spot, but everyone then went downstairs for wine and dessert. If you can pardon the space looking a bit lived-in, we’ll likely have it to ourselves for a while.”

There were, indeed, used dishes scattered everywhere, as well as books and musical instruments.

Morenna gave everything a cursory look as she strode over to stand by the very edge, resting her hands upon the low wall and looking out across the city.

“The view from my tower is better.”

“Morenna, really,” Rakkan exclaimed.

“I’m sure it must be,” Jemiina agreed with a smile, looking over at the huge shape of the castle perched upon its cliff over Kourvald. “This space is designed to be comforting and private rather than impressive. Our guests largely prefer to be entertained indoors, but the rooftop is a nice place for occasional gatherings.”

“I guess… I can see the appeal,” Morenna admitted. “Seeing books lying around outdoors makes me nervous, though.”

“And instruments,” Rakkan agreed, picking up a violin.

“The skies are clear,” Jemiina assured them. “Don’t worry, we don’t leave things out overnight. The party ended only recently; everything will be properly put away and cared for.”

“A place of peace,” Morenna murmured. “I’m starting to understand why you like it here, Rakkan. I don’t think this is for me, though. My idea of peace doesn’t involve anyone trying to…soothe me. A quiet space that’s my own is all I need.”

“Why, then?” Rakkan asked, just as quietly. “Morenna, why did you suddenly come down out of your tower and burst onto the scene as the avenging hero? After the way this family has treated you! Tamara never did anything for you until after you saved her life. Ophia, Espa, and Uthien sure didn’t—and I don’t believe for a second that they just happened to break through under stress, you did something to help them gain stronger magic. Linnea actively harassed you for three days! With your shadow magic you could’ve just ditched all of them to deal with their problems, but you stayed and fought. Why, Morenna? Why do you fight for them? Why bother?”

Morenna was silent for a moment, staring across the city while the wind gently toyed with her ponytail.

“Are you asking because you really care what I think?” She turned around, meeting his stare. “Or because you think hearing my answer might help you find your own?”

She could tell by the way he hesitated that she’d scored a hit, but then Rakkan pulled the cavalier mask back on, grinning and tucking the violin under his arm. “Is there some reason it can’t be both?”

Morenna turned back to look across the city again. “Simple peace and quiet can be a goal that takes drive to attain, if the opposition is fierce enough.”

“You lost me, sis.”

“The Empire has existed for our whole lives, Rakkan, but it’s easy to forget our lives have been really short. This Empire is too young to be truly stable. Most of the people in it remember a time before it. We’re not propped up by tradition or shared identity; right now the only thing holding this continent together is Khellvain’s armies, his mages, and his spies—the fact that he is the Conqueror, a man too dangerous to challenge.”

“Yeah, sure, he’s a great ruler, I guess…”

Morenna snorted. “He’s a great conqueror, an adequate ruler, and an abysmal father. But that’s fine. Right now, a conqueror is what he needs to be. The next generation is when good rule will start to be important. It’s Tamara and other influences that keep him stable, and he keeps the Empire stable. The Imperial court is…load-bearing, Rakkan. If too much damage is inflicted to our family, we’ll splinter into factions. And if the court splinters, the entire continent will follow. Our father’s governors are people who knelt to him out of necessity. The few who are loyal to him would fight to be his successor—Aldan is too young, all of us are—and the rest would try to break away.”

She turned to face them again. “Khellvain talks about doing what he did to bring peace and stability, and you and I know he’s full of it. He cares about his own glory and slaking his appetites, that’s it. But, accidentally or not, he did bring peace and stability. Before the Conquest this whole continent was a hundred warring tribes. People were too busy fighting to even raise enough food; those who didn’t die in the constant wars died of disease or hunger because of them.”

“I was pretty small during the Conquest,” Jemiina said quietly, “but I do remember what it was like. Your sister is right, my Prince. You two have said some things in my hearing tonight that I expect would cause you a lot of trouble if I repeated them, so to show good faith, I’ll tell you something that would get me in just as much trouble: our clients at a fancy place like this are the kind of people who can afford to care about politics, and we working girls can see the difference. Every evening I come to my job and entertain men and women who have opinions about who should be in power, and how they should use it, and how the Emperor is an upstart and the like. Then I go home, and the people with whom I rub shoulders are just grateful that he stopped all the fighting. Common people care about full bellies, warm beds, and not being raided. It takes someone raised in too much comfort to appreciate danger, to be willing to risk upsetting that for the sake of power.”

“That’s why I fight,” Morenna said wearily. “Because I understand the stakes. No, I don’t feel much…personal attachment to our family. But if our family crumbles, the Empire will crumble. That’d be a bad enough situation for the likes of you and me, Rakkan. For people like Jemiina… For most people…it would be a nightmare.”

Rakkan stared vacantly out over the city. “That’s…not what I wanted to hear, I think.”

Morenna shrugged. “You asked. That’s the answer I have.”

“I guess I did. So it all comes back to peace, huh.”

“Peace and quiet,” she nodded.

Rakkan managed a rueful chuckle. “That’s your thing, sister. Quiet isn’t what brings me peace.”

Morenna knew the danger of asking people about themselves was that sometimes they’d tell you, and then you were involved. But for some reason, in spite of herself, she couldn’t hold back.

“What does, then?”

Rakkan blinked, as if that obvious question had surprised him. But then, smiling, Jemiina handed him the bow that had been left near the violin he was now holding.

He grinned at her, took it, tucked the instrument under his chin and raised the bow to the strings.

The tune Rakkan drew from the violin was soft, mournful, but so lovely it made her heart involuntarily ache. He lost himself in it, closing his eyes, his entire body swaying with every movement. Morenna had never seen him so…unguarded. So free, caught in the flow. It was something she experienced only with a sword in her hand and magic thrumming through her nerves.

She hadn’t even known he could play.

Morenna felt captured by it, moved more than she’d have thought possible. It was just so beautiful. All the fuss and trouble she’d been to, restoring the comforting sound of a ticking clock, and this was out here in the world?

Rakkan drew the piece to its climax, a long note held, high and sweet, by a single slow stroke of the bow across the strings, lingering in the air longer than seemed possible.

In the middle of it, Morenna suddenly conjured Blackwing into her hand, crossed the rooftop through a gap in the shadows, and slashed an arrow out of the air before it could strike Rakkan.

Jemiina shrieked and hit the floor; Rakkan shifted to look at Morenna. Still playing.

She nodded to him. “Never let them stop you.”

The Prince grinned, finished his note…and then finished his song.

Morenna effortlessly deflected two more arrows during the last bars before the shots stopped. And then they were done, he with instrument in hand, she brandishing her sword.

“Thanks for that, sister.”

“It’s what I do.”

“And now I know why. Pressing on through the attack feels like a greater victory, somehow! Except that now we’ve let him get away.”

“No, I know exactly where he is,” she said, turning and pointing unerringly with her blade. “Now comes the easy part—”

“Wait!” Rakkan interrupted. “Take this one alive!”

Morenna scowled at him. “What? Why?”

“Just trust me, Morenna, it’s important.”

“Ugh, if you say so,” she growled. Then stepped back into the shade under an awning and vanished.

Rakkan handed the violin to Jemiina, who had just poked her head up. “It appears the danger’s passed. Thanks as always for a wonderful evening! Please give Madame my gratitude and apologies.”

And then, filling his body with magic, he vaulted fully across the street, chasing after his sister and their latest assassin across the city’s rooftops.