Jubal was suddenly aware of how far astray his memories had led him.
“You miss the point,” he said brusquely. “The fault was mine. It was my open arrogance that brought attention of a sort I neither expected nor wanted. If you willingly lay your hand in a trap, do you hate the trap for snapping shut, or curse your own stupidity for placing your hand in jeopardy?”
“I should think you’d want to avenge yourself on the one who cost you so much.”
“I’ll admit that I have no great love for Tempus. If at some point in the future
I have the opportunity to pay him back, I’ll probably take it,” Jubal observed, allowing himself a brief flash of the hatred he fought so hard to suppress.
“What I won’t do is devote my life to it. Revenge is a tempting side street which usually turns out to be a dead end. All it does is lure you farther away from your original path. You would do well to remember that in your schemes to deal with Theron.”
“But he had my family murdered!”
“Isn’t that part of the risk of being a noble?” he said, raising an eyebrow.
“Remember what I was saying about everything having a price? Your family led a comfortable existence, but the price was linking your future to the existing power structure in the Empire. When it fell, so did your family. It was a gamble. One you lost. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life hating and pursuing the winner?”
“But-“
The crimelord held up a hand to still her protests. “I still haven’t finished talking about my own arrogance. If you’ll indulge me?”