Page 310 - Fourth Wing

with a man who was executed on the same day as my mother.”

My stomach sinks. “No. No, that’s not right. Your father was Isaac Mairi,
right? I’ve studied all the noble houses in every province, including

Tyrrendor.” Had I gotten something wrong?

“Yes. Isaac was my father.” He tilts his head, looking toward the area
where Jesinia disappeared, and I get the distinct feeling he is over this

conversation.

“But he wasn’t a part of the rebellion.” I shake my head, trying to make
sense of it. “He isn’t on the death roll of the executions from Calldyr.”

“You read the death roll from the Calldyr executions?” His eyes flare.

It takes all my courage, but I hold his stare. “I needed to see that someone
was on it.”

He draws back slightly. “Fen Riorson.”
I nod. “He killed my brother at the Battle of Aretia.” My mind scrambles,

trying to harmonize what I’ve read and what he’s saying. “But your father

wasn’t on that roll.” But Liam was—as a witness. Mortification sweeps
over me. What the hell am I doing? “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“He was executed at our family’s house.” His features tighten. “Before it
was given to another noble, of course. And yes, I watched as they did it that

time, too. I already had the rebellion relic by then, but the pain was the

same.” He looks away, his throat working. “Then I was sent to Tirvainne to
be fostered by Duke Lindell, the same as Riorson. My little sister was sent

elsewhere.”

“They separated you?” My jaw practically unhinges. Neither fostering
nor separating siblings is mentioned in any text I’ve read about the

rebellion, and I’ve read a ton.

He nods. “She’s only a year younger than me, though, so I’ll get to see
her when she enters the quadrant next year. She’s strong, quick, and has

good balance. She’ll make it.” The edge of panic in his tone reminds me of
Mira.