The word rang in Oliver's mind. Betray. He would have to betray them.
Visions of glory faltered, freezing in his chest. 'No,' he told himself, 'they betrayed me. Vamira lied. She told me the Tyrant was dead. They were deceiving me all along.'
He did not owe Vamira or Odeile anything, he told himself. And the man standing before him, Captain Tullind, who was waiting expectantly for Oliver's answer – he owed him everything. He was his commander.
What he was supposed to do next should have been simple. Oliver knew that. Vamira was a Tyrant – or at the very least, suspected of being one. It was his duty to deliver her to her fate.
'Then why am I not doing it?' he wondered helplessly.
The silence stretched on. At last, Captain Tullind c****d his head at him, his genial expectancy fadi
