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Kiria
Kiria huffed out a breath and set down her lyra. Firian stood like a negative image before her mind, his tall, black-clad figure white like a ghost. It didn’t seem possible that he had murdered Amir Salaar. He was the same Firian she had known. His eyes seemed sincere—redder than she had ever seen them, and he sounded desperate—but she had been too quick to trust him before.
If she saw him again, she would just ignore him. Before she went to bed that night, she would have to remind herself not to entertain the thought of talking with him, even in a dream. Thoughts and actions were one.
At least now she didn’t have a reason to keep watching him. If he really was kicked out of the Academy, then he could offer no new information helpful to the war. She could cut him off completel
