Vereshia kept staring at me wordlessly.
The sympathetic softness in her gaze melted into silent curiosity.
She tilted her head, her silver hair falling to the side and catching the light. "Why not? You just spent the last ten minutes crying about wanting a vacation and a smoothie. This is your exit ramp, Samael. Take it."
"Because," I started, my voice losing its whiny edge as I straightened my posture, "if I let Thalia win, she's the one who has to lead my family's army on your fleets into the Iron Height. And I know my sister. She's brilliant and talented, but her survival instincts are worse than those of a suicidal lemming. Also… a death prophecy has been made about her. If she goes into that war, she will die."
A frown stole over Vereshia's face. She looked like she couldn't understand something. "And?"
"...Hmm?"
