The council meeting ended just as the stars began to glitter in the sky.
Vell had asked Sonder to leave so the council could speak privately, even if she wanted to stay. But she was fine not attending.
She, and later Vell, was given their old chamber.
When Vell joined her after the council had ended, he stepped inside, crossed his arms, and stared out the window at the stars.
He saw snowflakes drifting down lazily.
Sonder sat at the edge of the bed. She hadn't spoken much since the declaration of war. Her thoughts were still a swirl.
Vell broke the silence. Do you think it's right? That they want war?"
She looked up at him. "What?"
"That they're going through with it." He turned from the window. "Do you think it's right?"
Sonder looked down again.
She didn't answer. Not right away.
Vell didn't press her. He just waited, watching her as the silence stretched on.
Sonder's brow furrowed slightly, as if she was working through something in her mind.
Her thoughts dragged through painful memories; things no one should ever see.
"I don't like war," she said finally. Her voice was soft. "I don't like killing. Or blood. Or watching people lose the things they love."
Vell gave a small nod but said nothing.
"But…" She swallowed. "Yes. I think the world would be better without the Irath."
Her voice didn't tremble or rise.
It was flat. Honest.
And that was what disturbed her most.
She hated that she felt this way.
That the thought of an entire people being gone didn't fill her with horror. That she couldn't summon pity anymore. Not for the Irath. Not after what they'd done -- and what they were capable of.
"I don't like thinking that," she said. "But it keeps showing up in my head, and I can't lie to myself."
Vell leaned against the cold wall, arms still crossed.
"If you're thinking like that, then you must be tired. Sleep, Sonder. You can face whatever it is tomorrow."