Ventus by Karl Schroeder

Karl Schroeder / Ventus / Page 459
The girls left, and they were alone again. Galas gestured
at the food, and smiled.
The simple act of sipping the broth released a knot of
tension in Lavin’s shoulders. He indulged himself in the food
for a moment, while she poured wine for both of them. By the
time she had reached for her own spoon, he felt in command of
himself again.
"I’ve come to make sure we can do this again," he said,
gesturing to the food. "And more."
Galas sipped her wine, brows knit quizzically. "What do
you mean?"
He borrowed from the speech he’d prepared. The idea
for this argument had come from his reading of her own
captured journals. "You’re acting like there’s only one
possible outcome to all this. But everything you’ve ever
done--the very reason we are where we are today--is because
you’ve refused to accept that there should only be one way of
doing things. You’ve fought inevitability your whole life.
Why change now?"
She was silent for a while. "Maybe I’m tired," she said at
last in a small voice.
"Galas, you’ve used nothing but your own strength to try
to change the whole world. You’ve never accepted that of
anyone else. Maybe it is time for you to rest. Is that so bad?"
"Yes!" she flared. "You’re saying you’ve come to take
my kingdom from me. I already knew that. Say something
new, if you really have alternatives."
"You’re acting like there’s only victory or death possible
here. I’m saying it’s not too late. Victory is impossible for
you now, but death isn’t inevitable. That’s what I’ve come to
prevent!"
"Victory wouldn’t be impossible," she said, "if I’d had