40. Marcus
The carriage jostles beneath Marcus, bouncing him between the two Phaedran soldiers that occupy either side of him.
It’s unbearably hot inside this box with so many bodies and very little air coming in.
Though he supposes it’s the least of his concerns.
The smell of blood and sweat permeates, reminding him of Cato, of his final words.
Stellae, why did he have to challenge the Imperium like that?
“When we get to the capital,” Ambitus says, speaking for the first time since his guards threw Marcus inside, “you’ll meet the new leader of the Faithless before we take you elsewhere to be interrogated.”
“Interrogated for what?” Marcus asks, then flinches. Every time he opens his mouth, he receives an elbow in the gut.
“We both know King Cato’s marriage to the girl is a sham. But while she’s pregnant with his heir, we cannot kill her.”
Marcus chokes down a laugh. Cato was right; they are stupid enough to believe Dru got pregnant in a week.
“We don’t want a rebellion on our hands when we still have the chance to take over peacefully. ”
“Since when have you cared about peace?”
Ambitus nods at the guard to Marcus’s right, who rewards him with a sharp elbow in the ribs. Marcus sucks in a breath, sitting back against the carriage wall behind him. He doesn’t ask again.
His only solace is, as long as Dru stays in Anziano, she’ll be safe. She promised not to come after him, but he’s not sure she’ll keep her word. Especially given that she didn’t actually say it aloud. Considering it could be the last time they see each other, though, he took what he could get.
The look on her face when she realized he’d been keeping the truth from her all this time gutted him, seared forever into his memory. What she might not fully realize is that the Faithless were involved in the takeover the moment they gave Marcus his orders six years ago.
His job was to get Cato to trust him and make sure he died nobly in the trials. This would allow his throne to be open for the taking—though he wasn’t told by whom or for what reason. The Faithless are trained not to ask questions.
Marcus can guess who ousted the Three: Thiago.
He was always spewing to anyone who would listen how the Faithless had gone soft, how they should be making alliances with the Imperium to gain more influence instead of always thwarting them.
It was at his suggestion to the Three that Marcus went to Anziano to convince the king to enter the Valorem Blood Trials so they could get rid of him without suspicion.
As time wore on at his post at Cato’s side, though, Marcus grew to love the king as a brother.
Marcus was there when his sister killed herself, when his father grew sick and passed away.
Marcus became the man he is today because of Cato and his time in Anziano.
But he also missed Dru, as if she were one of his own limbs.
The more time he spent away from her, the more he realized he loved her.
When the time for the trials drew near, he convinced the king they needed Dru to help train him.
It was selfish of him, but he planned to defy direct Faithless orders, and he refused to let her see him as a traitor without knowing why.
Without giving her a chance to fall in love with Anziano as he had.
And, if he’s being honest with himself, he knew there was a good chance he would die in the trials. He didn’t want to leave this earth without her knowing how he felt about her.
Once he and Cato saw how heavy the Imperium’s influence would be on the games, he convinced Cato to make Dru his queen.
He told him how the servants in the palace seemed to like her, how she’d do anything to keep his country from falling into the hands of the Imperium.
So, he agreed to it. Because he liked her too, even grew to love her, like Marcus knew he would.
The other part of that plan involved Marcus dying in the trials, to allow Cato and Dru to live. But that backfired when Cato challenged the Imperium.
The fucking bard.
He should’ve acted on his suspicions when he had the chance.
And for him to betray Cato like that, with no remorse for the life he would take, guts him.
Cato’s last breath lives inside Marcus’s mind, branded there with a hot iron.
He wanted to apologize for everything—for allowing his loyalty to the Faithless to cloud his judgment, for bringing the bard to Anziano, for not trusting his gut when he knew something wasn’t right about him, for putting his own selfish wants before his friend.
It’s too late now. He’ll have to face the consequences of what he’s done, and do so alone.
He physically aches thinking about his last moments with Dru.
He would’ve given anything to kiss her one last time, to tell her, and anyone else who would hear it, that he loved her.
But he couldn’t throw suspicion on her and give the Imperium any reason to void the document naming her heir to the throne of Anziano.
Dru’s safe, for now—that’s all he can ask for.
As he rumbles down the road, leaving the palace he’s called home for the last six years farther behind, he hopes he never sees Drusilla Valerius again.
The story will continue in
Trial of Bronze and Blood Book 2