Page 484 - Fourth Wing

Today marks six years since Brennan was killed. He’d be a captain by

now, or maybe even a major, given the way his career had taken off. Maybe
he’d be married. Maybe I’d be an aunt. Maybe our father’s heart wouldn’t

have given out that first time from the strain of losing him or that final time

that spring two years ago.
“Take me to bed,” I mentally blurt out, then sink down in my seat a little.

I don’t regret it, though. Today of all days, I need a distraction.

“It might be awkward in front of all these people.”
I can’t see him from where I know he’s sitting at the top of the Battle

Brief room, but his words feel like a caress on the back of my neck. “Might

be worth it.”
“And what would you have done differently?” Devera asks, scanning the

crowd.
“I would have asked for reinforcements if I’d known the wards were

weakening in the area,” Rhiannon answers.

“I haven’t changed my mind, Violence. There’s no future for us.”
“And when no reinforcements are available?” Devera asks, arching a

brow. “You have noticed that the graduating classes from the Riders
Quadrant are diminishing every year, while the uptick in attacks has cost us

another seven riders and their dragons this year, haven’t you? It takes at

least a full company of infantry to make up for the loss of one rider.”
“Graduation is ten days away.” The approaching deadline has me on

edge.

“I would have temporarily pulled riders from the midland posts to help
rebuild the wards,” Rhiannon answers.

“Don’t remind me.”

“Excellent.” Devera nods.
“Are you seriously going to leave Basgiath without—” Without what?

Declaring his undying…lust?
“Yes.”