Chapter 24
The silence that followed my words was deafening. I watched Livia's face cycle through disbelief, shock, and then something that cut me deeper than any blade—betrayal.
"No," she whispered, backing away from me like I'd struck her. "No, that can't be true."
"Livia—" I started, but she was already on her feet, tears streaming down her face.
"You lied to me," she said, her voice breaking. "All this time, you've been lying to me."
I tried to explain, tried to find words that could somehow make this hurt less, but she wasn't listening anymore. She turned and walked away—not running, because Livia never ran from anything, but moving with that determined stride that meant she was done with this conversation.
Done with me.
"Go after her," Marcus said roughly from behind me.
I was already moving.
I followed her through the temple's corridors, keeping enough distance that she wouldn't feel hunted but close enough that I wouldn't lose her. She went straight to her chambers, and I heard the door slam with enough force to rattle the frame.
I stood outside for a long moment, pressing my palm against the wood, trying to gather the courage to knock. What could I possibly say? How could I explain that every day of deception had been agony? That I'd wanted to tell her the truth from the moment I'd realized I was falling in love with her?
When I finally found the courage to knock, there was no answer. I tried the handle—locked, of course. Livia wasn't the type to leave herself vulnerable when she was hurt and angry.
"Livia," I called softly through the door. "Please. Let me explain."
Still nothing.
I pressed my forehead against the wood, feeling the weight of every lie I'd told, every truth I'd withheld.
The irony wasn't lost on me—I'd spent months learning to trust her, to open my heart to someone for the first time in my life, and all the while I'd been carrying the one secret that could destroy everything between us.
"I know you're angry," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I know you feel betrayed. And you're right to feel that way. I should have told you the truth from the beginning."
I heard movement from inside—a soft footfall, the creak of floorboards. She was listening, even if she wouldn't respond.
"My father..." I swallowed hard, the words feeling like poison on my tongue. "He is a monster. I've known that since I was old enough to understand what the Empire really did to conquered people. I've spent my entire life trying to find a way to make amends for the blood on my family's name."
The silence stretched on, but I could feel her presence on the other side of the door. I closed my eyes, letting the pain and guilt I'd been carrying for months finally pour out.
"I never meant for it to happen like this. I never meant to fall in love with you. I couldn’t bear it, hearing you talk about your family after you told me who you were.
Hearing the pain in your voice and knowing it was my blood that caused it.
I've hated myself every single day since I learned who you were. "
I heard movement inside—soft footsteps on stone—but the door remained closed.
"I left the palace because I couldn't stand what my father was becoming. I joined the academy to get away from him, to try and make something of myself that wasn’t in his image of who he wanted me to be. I wanted to be more, I wanted to train under real men who could show me how to lead, how to do things right.”
I laughed softly, though there was no humour in it. “It took me a while to find men like that, and I never thought I’d be sharing the woman I love with them.”
For a moment, everything was quiet. Then I heard the soft sound of footsteps approaching the door, and the lock turning.
The door opened just enough for me to see her face—red-eyed, tear-stained, but still so beautiful it made my chest ache. She stepped back without a word, allowing me to enter, but the distance she put between us might as well have been a chasm.
"How can you love me?" she asked.
"How can I not? And I do, with everything I have," I said, not caring anymore about pride or self-preservation. "That's what makes this so impossible."
“Your real name,” she murmured. “Tell me.”
"Prince Jalius Aurelius," I said, the words feeling like a curse darker than any shadow Taveth could throw my way. "Only son of Emperor Valerius."
She shook her head, and I could see that she was shaking, her hands clenched into fists at her sides as she stared at me with a mixture of betrayal and fury that made my heart ache. Like I was a stranger—worse than a stranger. Like I was the embodiment of every nightmare that had shaped her life.
"You're his son," she said, and each word dripped with venom. "The Emperor's son. The son of the man who ordered my village burned, who had my parents murdered in front of me."
I stood perfectly still, not taking my eyes off her. "Yes."
"And you've been lying to me this entire time. You've been in my bed, you've touched me, you've—" Her voice cracked, and I saw her hands shake. "How could you? How could any of you let this happen?"
I wanted to reach for her, to try to explain, but the fury radiating from her warned me off. She was like a cornered animal right now, dangerous to anyone who got too close.
"Livia, please," I said softly. "Let me explain—"
"Explain what?" she snarled. "How you've been playing some sick game with me? Even as Lady Cantius we had no future, you said it yourself. So why play with me, Jalend?"
"It wasn't like that," I said desperately. "I never meant for this to happen. I never meant to fall in love with you."
"My father ordered the destruction of your village," I said quietly. "He gave the command that killed your family. I've known that since the day you told me who you were and who you used to be."
Livia made a sound like a wounded animal, her hands pressing against her stomach as if she might be sick. "You knew. All this time, you knew what he did to them, and you—" Her voice broke completely. "You touched me. You made me love you."
"Livia, please—"
"Don't." The word came out like a whip crack, stopping me mid-sentence. "Don't you dare say my name. Don't you dare try to explain this away. You call this love? Lying to me for months? Pretending to care while hiding who you really are?"
"I wanted to tell you, but—"
"But what? It was inconvenient? It complicated your plans?"
"But I was afraid," I said, the words torn from somewhere deep in my chest. "I was terrified that if you knew the truth, you'd look at me exactly the way you're looking at me now."
Her laugh was bitter, broken. "You were right to be afraid."
I felt something inside me crack at the raw hatred in her voice. This was what I'd dreaded, what had kept me awake countless nights—seeing the woman I loved look at me like I was poison.
"I know I don't deserve your forgiveness," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I know what I've done is unforgivable. But Livia, everything I felt for you, everything between us—that was real. That was the truest thing in my entire life."
"Real?" She took another step back, as if my very presence contaminated the air. "How can anything be real when it's built on lies? How can I believe a single word that comes out of your mouth?"
“The same way I believed you when I found out who you were,” I said, moving a little closer. "I found out about your family because of the festival attack, not because you trusted me. I found out every word you had told me was a lie as well, that you weren’t who you said you were.”
She opened her mouth to respond, but I pressed on.
"And tell me, Livia—were you ever going to tell me who you were? Your real name? What happened to your family?"
That stopped her short. The anger in her face flickered, replaced by something more uncertain.
"I..." she started, then fell silent.
"You were a slave whose family had been killed by Imperial soldiers," I said gently. "I was a noble. Did you know if you could trust me?"
The fight seemed to go out of her all at once. She sank down onto the edge of her bed, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.
"No," she admitted quietly. "I didn't know if I could trust you. You were nobility, and nobility had never meant anything good for people like me."
Relief flooded through me—not because she'd hidden things from me, but because she understood. She understood the impossible position we'd both been in.
"I didn't know if I could trust you either," I said, moving a little closer but still keeping my distance. "Not at first. But then I got to know you, and I realized that who you were before didn't matter. What mattered was who you are now."
"But I did trust you eventually," she said, looking up at me with those dark eyes that had haunted my dreams. "I told you everything. About my family, about what happened to them, about being a slave."
The accusation in her voice was clear, and it cut deep because it was justified.
"You didn't tell me you wanted to kill my father," I said softly.
Her face flushed. "That's different."
"Is it?"
"Yes!" But her voice lacked conviction now. "I didn't tell you because... because I thought you'd try to stop me. Or be horrified. I come from a more violent world than you do, Jalend. I didn't want to shock you."
I wanted to laugh at the irony, but it would have come out bitter. She thought I was some sheltered noble who would be horrified by violence, when the truth was, I'd been raised in the heart of the Empire's brutality. I'd seen what my father was capable of firsthand.
"It's one thing knowing I was a gladiator," she continued, her voice getting smaller. "It's another thing entirely to watch me murder someone in cold blood."
The vulnerability in her admission broke something inside me. She'd been protecting me, just as I'd been trying to protect her. We'd both been so afraid of losing each other that we'd lost each other anyway.