Chapter 417: 417. She’s Still Being Persistent About it! (But Eh, They Could Deal With Her)

The fire in Drevash’s common room burned down over the next hour as the expedition’s dinner dispersed by degrees, the tiredness of three days of canyon terrain finally reaching the point where even conversation was more effort than people had available.

Talyra and Aisella walked with Nerith toward the stairs, and Mireya followed after a moment, catching up with them in the hallway before they reached their respective rooms. Rex watched the scene from the foot of the stairs and waited.

He could smell the fatigue that hung in the air, but a flicker of curiosity ignited inside of him. As the sound of their footsteps faded, he considered whether to follow them or to retreat into the solitude of his thoughts for the night.

’It seems like she’s still persistent about it...’ Rex thought. ’Even though she’s known as the Ice Princess... how she acts is like fire that either burns herself or others.’

’But still... she’s getting punished tonight, and there’s no denying it...’

’I really am going to enjoy her face when she’s trying to beg or ask for forgiveness...’

’This shit keeps getting worse and worse... it’s almost intolerable for me.’

"She’s really persistent about it," Elizabeth said, sipping her hot coffee. "About Mireya... you didn’t do anything to her, right?"

"Why would I even do that?" Rex sighed. "And it’s her fault to come there by herself."

"Look... for me, it’s not a problem if you killed those Legions because I think my mother is going to approve of that, judging by the documents about them all."

"But here’s an interesting fact: Mireya is similar to Apollo in that they both share a mindset of justice. Neither of them wants to kill; instead, they hope for change for the better."

"Mireya is that way because of her story as the ice princess, where her kingdom teaches the importance of forgiveness—much like the coolness of ice."

"Yeah, I could see that..." Rex said, realizing that today would be the perfect opportunity to talk more with her.

"And... I really do want to discuss the incident involving the key that was destroyed, but today... my head isn’t cooperating with me, so let’s save that conversation for after we reach Aethelgard."

’Fuck...’ Rex nodded. "Alright, it’s fine, take your time."

"You’ve carried a lot."

...

Mireya was still trying to reach Talyra and the others. "Hey!"

"I’m not trying to keep arguing about this," Mireya said to Talyra in the hallway. Her tone had softened from the measured firmness she had displayed at the dinner table. "I’m just trying to understand how you both feel okay with it."

"We’re not comfortable with it," Talyra said. "Comfortable is not the word I’d use."

"I said what I believe, and what I believe is that the situation Rex was in produced the outcome it produced, and the people who died in it were the people responsible for the situation existing." She paused. "That’s not comfort."

"That’s just where I land when I think about it clearly."

"I think about it clearly," Mireya said, "and I land somewhere else."

"I know you do," Talyra said. "That’s your right."

"Then why does it feel like I’m the only one in that room who’s willing to say it out loud?"

"Because you are," Talyra said. "That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you!"

"Well, it’s not because everyone else has decided to ignore it, but because everyone else has reached a different conclusion." She paused. "You’re not the only person who thought about it!"

"You’re the only person whose thinking produced your answer."

"That should tell you something," Mireya said.

"It does," Talyra said. "It tells me you weight the categories differently than I do."

"That’s not the same as you being the only clear-eyed person in the room."

Mireya looked at Aisella. "You were quiet at the table, but still... you said something reasonable."

"I said what I had to say," Aisella said. "I believe that every perspective has its value, even if we don’t always agree on the specifics."

Aisella crossed her arms, a hint of defensiveness creeping into her tone. "Maybe I didn’t feel the need to argue for the sake of it; sometimes, silence speaks louder than words."

"You said it once and then you stopped," Mireya said. "Every time I raised a point, you answered it and moved on."

"You never pushed back on anything I said directly."

"That’s because I don’t think you’re wrong about what you saw," Aisella said. "I think you’re wrong about what it means."

Aisella raised her finger. "And those are different conversations."

Mireya frowned, contemplating Aisella’s words. "So, you’re suggesting that we need to investigate more thoroughly the implications of our observations rather than just accepting them at face value?"

"Not this again, Mireya..." Aisella facepalmed.

"Then have the conversation with me right now," Mireya said. "Tell me what it means."

"I’ve been telling you what it means since the canyon approach," Aisella said, with the patient quality of someone who has covered the same ground multiple times and is doing it again because the other person needs it rather than because it will produce a different conclusion.

"It means Rex was in a situation that the network’s processes had already failed to contain, and he made the call that the situation required, and three people who wouldn’t otherwise be here are here because of it."

"That’s what it means to me."

"It means more than that," Mireya said. "It means he gets to decide who lives and who dies based on what’s useful to him."

"Everyone in a crisis makes that call," Aisella said. "Even I or every healer makes that call!"

"Or see more further, like... Commander! Every commander makes that call, but the question is... whether the call was made with the right people in mind." She looked at Mireya directly. "And HE had the right people in mind."

"He had his people in mind," Mireya said. "There’s a difference."

"His people," Aisella said, "include Apollo and Veylor and the expedition member who are alive right now!"

"I’ll take that definition."

Aisella said, "What you’re asking Talyra and I to feel is that we should be more troubled by Rex than we are."

"And I understand the argument for that, but...! When I think about what the canyon looked like before Rex went in and what it looked like after, the honest answer is that I can’t get there." She looked at Mireya with the particular directness she reserved for things she meant. "I know that’s frustrating to hear, and..."

"I’m sorry if it’s frustrating."

"I don’t want an apology," Mireya said. "I want someone to take this seriously."

"We are taking it seriously," Talyra said. "We took it seriously enough to reach a different conclusion, which apparently looks like not taking it seriously from where you’re standing."

Mireya looked at Nerith. Nerith had been listening without speaking since they’d moved into the hallway. The amber leaves were in their still configuration.

"Nerith," Mireya said.

Nerith looked at her. "I know what you saw," she said.

"I’m not saying you didn’t see it." A pause. "But I also know that the nature of this place, the stone and the deep substrate, responded to what he did in that canyon differently from anything I’ve encountered in another person."

"The old root networks in the third level, which typically remain indifferent to most matters, registered him as..." She hesitated, seeking a word that conveyed the truth without exaggeration. "Not dangerous. Not harmless."

"Something that has a place in the structure of things. Something that belongs in the calculation." She briefly glanced at the ground. "I’m unsure how to interpret that, but I know what it felt like to perceive it."

"And it doesn’t read like something I should be afraid of."