CHAPTER TWENTY #2
As soon as we’re inside the ludus, he jerks his head, gesturing for me to follow him toward the guardant quarters. Their common room is similar to the imperius’s although much smaller, but Leon keeps walking into a tiny bedroom.
“No one can hear us here.” He gives me a hard stare. “What happened?”
I don’t know how to answer that. “How did you know I needed help?”
“Tiernon said you disappeared, and Maeva asked me where you’d gone when we all returned here. I knew you were doing something stupid.”
And he came. Even though he hates me. He came.
“Now tell me what it was.”
I slump into his chair in the corner of the room. “I need to get out of here, Leon. As soon as I have a chance, I have to get to the city gates.”
“You can’t. They’ve locked down the city.”
I let out a shaky breath. I expected this. “I’ll wait them out.”
“What did you do?”
Despite Leon’s assurances about the room, I lower my voice to a whisper. “I killed the emperor.”
Leon scowls at me. “No, you didn’t.”
“I did.” My tone is belligerent. I didn’t expect him to be pleased, but the least he can do is believe me. “I saw his face, Leon. I watched him die.”
“The emperor is alive. I know, because one of my contacts just left a room where Vallius was sitting with the Primus on one side of him, and Rorrik on the other.”
My stomach twists into tight coils. I don’t understand. I saw the emperor’s face, even in the dim light.
Leon gives me a pitying look. “We’re surrounded by vampires, Arvelle.”
Realization flickers through me. Vampires. Vampires who can manipulate our thoughts. Vampires who can wipe our memories. Vampires who can make us see things that aren’t there.
The reminder is so shocking, so violating, I want to vomit.
“Then who did I kill?” My voice is shaky, my mind filling with a thick fog. I might have murdered an innocent person. Who did I take from their family? From their friends?
“I don’t know. But why don’t you tell me why you’re trying to kill the most powerful man on this continent.”
I won’t implicate him in this. I’ve already told him too much. “Look. You never wanted to come here. But you did. And I survived the Sundering. Now you need to leave.”
His jaw clenches. “You don’t tell me what to do.”
“Why would you want to stay here?”
“I’m doing good work, Arvelle. Nyrant has offered me a position similar to Albion’s, helping those who don’t have a guardant to train for the Sundering again in a few months.”
“I don’t understand. You hate the emperor. If not for him, Kassia …” I trail off.
Leon is silent for so long, I wonder if he’s going to reply. And then he turns away, staring blankly at the wall. “Kassia’s mother once told me something.” His voice catches, his shoulders tensing.
I know little about Rosella. It was the biggest issue between Kassia and Leon. He would tell her stories about Rosella, but he never talked about how they met, or her death.
“She said that when you can’t battle evil on a grand scale, you have to chip away at it piece by piece.
You have to hold the line, to protect others.
And that duty belongs to everyone. You don’t get to hide from it when the stakes are this high.
For six years, I ignored the reality of this empire.
I hid. And Rosella …” Leon shakes his head, and his expression tightens.
Frustration drills into my temple, and I massage it in an attempt to relieve the ache. All this time, I wanted Leon to take an interest in living again. Now he has. And it could kill him.
Leon studies my face, likely seeing too much. Dark eyebrows slam together and he leans close. “Why don’t you tell me what is happening?”
Fine. He’ll have no choice but to leave when he understands the risks.
“Bran didn’t just want me to make it through the Sundering.
The Sundering itself was a ruse. A way to integrate myself into this place and make sure I stayed alive until the consilium last night.
Maybe he’s working with Rorrik, and Rorrik used the opportunity to make me kill one of his enemies instead … I don’t know.”
Something in my chest twinges at the idea that Rorrik could be behind everything Bran has done to me. He betrayed me tonight. I killed someone—maybe someone innocent—because Rorrik manipulated me. It was so easy for him.
I meet Leon’s eyes. “Bran sent me here to kill the emperor, Leon. And when I do—because I will—they’ll begin an investigation. My guardant will be the first person they torture.”
Leon slumps against the wall. “How could you be so stupid?”
“Evren was suffocating in front of me,” I snap. “Turning blue, foaming at the mouth. Tell me you wouldn’t have done the same thing.”
His mouth twists. “Who else knows?”
“Bran. Our bond prevents me from telling Tiernon. Or the emperor himself.” I don’t mention Rorrik. I can’t look Leon in the eye and admit just how much the emperor’s son knows.
“Tiernon was looking for you at the ball tonight,” Leon says. “We had … words.”
I wince. I can only imagine what they said to each other. Leon gives me a stiff nod. “He knows Bran manipulated you into the Sundering. I told him.”
“Leon—”
“Despite your history, Tiernon wants you safe.”
“This is too dangerous. For both of you.”
With a shake of his head, Leon sighs, hauling himself away from the wall. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Did you miss the part where you’ll die?”
“I won’t. Because I’m going to help you.”
I blink.
Leon raises an eyebrow. “You look like a fish with your mouth hanging open like that. I’m staying. We’ll figure it out together.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to. Tiernon also didn’t know if killing Bran would harm you, and he’s going to look into it.
But we know one way to finish this. And since you so thoroughly failed at killing the emperor tonight, you’ll still be training with the guard as a novice, which means you still need my help. ”
Shaking my head, I snap my mouth closed. Nothing will change Leon’s mind once he’s made a decision. And he has so many reasons to want Vallius Corvus dead.
“So what do you suggest?”
“The imperiums have plenty of opportunity to kill the emperor. You know they pick one gladian to join them each Sundering. That could be you.”
“It’ll never happen.”
“You’re already training with them.”
“And they loathe me.”
The corner of his mouth kicks up. “If there’s one thing you’re good at, it’s making people like you despite your best efforts to push them away. All you need is one shot. One moment where you’re trusted with the emperor’s safety. Or we kill Bran.”
“And how, exactly, do I convince them to pick me? If they choose anyone, it’s going to be someone like Brenin.”
“I’ll find a way. Leave it to me.”
“Fine.” Doubt is heavy in my voice, but I know that expression on Leon’s face. He’ll throw everything he has into making this happen.
“Give me that cloak,” he says. “It’s too fine for a novice to be wearing it without suspicion.”
I scoop the bracelet from the cloak pocket and hand the cloak over, my skin prickling in the sudden cold.
Leon stares at the blood soaked into my dress. I can feel it, sticky against my skin.
“You walk out of here like that, and you’ll attract every vampire in this ludus. We’re lucky no one sensed it when we came in.” Striding to his closet, he hands me a pair of wide-legged pants and a tunic, jerking his head toward his bathing room.
I strip, using a damp cloth to remove the blood from my skin. The blood from someone who could be entirely innocent.
“Arvelle.”
I startle. I’m not sure how long I’ve been staring at the bloody cloth. “Almost done.” My voice is hoarse.
When I step into Leon’s room, he takes the gown from me, exchanging it for one of his cloaks. “I’ll handle this. It’s late. We’ll talk about the plan tomorrow.”
I leave him standing in his bedroom, a dark scowl on his face.
I’m so sorry, Kassia.
A cold sweat breaks out on my neck as I walk toward the gladians’ quarters. All I can hear are the choking sounds of the man I killed, the wet gush of blood. Who was he?
The question claws at my thoughts, rolling through my mind over and over again.
A jarring stillness seizes me. My entire body freezes, my instincts shrieking a warning. I spin, pressing my back to the cold stone wall. Shallow breaths explode from my lungs, and I scan the corridor.
It stretches out, empty before me, shadows swallowing the weak light from the aether lamps. No footsteps. No voices. Just a hollow, oppressive silence.
But the sensation crawls over my skin. It’s a creeping, invasive awareness. A dull, suffocating certainty that someone is watching me.
“Jorah?” My voice is a cracked whisper.
Nothing. I bite the inside of my cheek, forcing myself to focus. Jorah wouldn’t do this. He wouldn’t try to scare me.
I’m just tired, that’s all. Tired, and frightened, and on edge.
My skin prickles, as if icy tendrils are trailing across my skin. My breath hitches, but I force myself to continue my walk to the barracks … even as I continually peer over my shoulder.
“Arvelle.”
My hand flies to my dagger as my heart leaps into my throat. Tiernon leans against the wall outside the gladian quarters.
“Where have you been?” His gaze drifts to Leon’s cloak. But no, there are no specks or droplets of blood. Tiernon is wondering if I’ve been out with another man. The thought is almost laughable.
“Did you enjoy dancing with Rorrik?”
I stare at him. After the night I’ve just had, his question is absurd.
But maybe it isn’t.
Memory after memory slams into me. Rorrik and Tiernon, staring at each other with malice. Their strange standoffs, their barely concealed disdain, their sharp jabs with tension-filled undertones.
Rorrik giving me that look, the familiarity I felt in his presence tonight. The way his loathing for me has felt strangely personal.
“You’re his brother.” The words come out hoarse, blood pounding like a drum in my ears. “Which means you’re the emperor’s other son.”
A muscle jumps in Tiernon’s jaw, but he doesn’t deny it.
“I don’t understand.” Flashes of the past leap into my mind. Tiernon, refusing to talk about his father. Tiernon, lost and sad and lonely. Tiernon, disappearing with no warning. A lump has formed in my throat, and it leaks bitterness across my tongue. “I thought his other son was at the front.”
“I was. My father ordered me to return.”
His father. The emperor. “Why does no one talk about it?”
With a sigh, he leans against the wall. “I ordered everyone who knows to use my title as Primus. Most believe the emperor’s unruly younger son is still at the front, terrorizing any who chose not to bow to his father.”
My mouth is so dry it takes me a moment to reply. “And your father?”
“He’s the one who insisted I become Primus. He sees my refusal to use my true title as a younger son’s misplaced rebellion.”
I turn and pace, putting the pieces together. Of course he never wanted to talk about his family when he was younger. If anyone in the Thorn learned who he was, they would have handed him over to rebels as a hostage.
It also explains why Rorrik has taken an interest in me. Because his brother did first.
My gaze drifts back to Tiernon, who is watching me with narrowed eyes, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.
I don’t want to hear his excuses. I no longer want to hear any more of his lies.
“I can’t trust you at all.”
His eyes glitter. “You know that’s not true.”
“Then why?”
He stalks closer, until my back is pressed up against the stone wall. “You hate the emperor and his family, Arvelle. You always have. Ever since my father made the Sands compulsory. He’s the reason your mother’s sister died, and the reason your mother became an addict.”
“Stop.”
“He’s the reason Kassia is dead. She never would have walked into that arena otherwise.”
“I said stop.”
“Neither would you. You wanted to be a healer. You loathe that you have a unique talent with your sword. After the way I left you, you hated me enough without knowing who my father is.”
My eyes burn, my throat aching like someone has set it on fire. “Oh, so your lies were for my protection?”
“Yes.” A muscle feathers in his jaw. “They were.” He shoves a hand into his dark hair. “And my own.”
“And when we were younger? Before you left?”
“I wanted one thing,” he says quietly. “You were my only escape.”
Strong, warm hands cup my face as he presses his mouth to mine. “Are you sure?”
My cheeks flame, and he presses even closer. “I need you to be sure, Arvelle. I never want you to look at me and regret.”
I study his face, as familiar as my own. Since the moment I met him this was inevitable. I look at no other boys the way I look at him. I trust no one the way I trust him.
Taking his hand, I boldly press it to my breast. He sucks in a breath, and I meet his eyes.
“I’m sure. I-I want you to be my first.”
He looks at me with his heart in his eyes. “If I have it my way, I’ll be your only.”
Misery coils through me, turning my limbs to lead. I blink back tears, refusing to cry. “I’m glad I was an escape for you. One you could abandon once you no longer needed that escape.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“I want you to stay far, far away from me.”
He shrugs, but his eyes harden. “That won’t happen until you’re free of Bran’s manipulations. Go to bed. Tomorrow is going to be a difficult day for everyone.”
“Why?”
“Someone killed Tiberius Cotta. While he was sleeping in the palace. Under the emperor’s protection.”
The world stops. When it restarts again, I’m aware of Tiernon’s strong hands gripping my shoulders. He’s saying something, but I can’t hear him over the sound of the blood rushing in my ears.
The one sigilmarked making a difference in this empire. The gold-crowned fighting for mundanes and low-level sigilmarked. A man who fought for peace. A man from the Thorn. A man who saved my life with his weapons.
And I’ve murdered him.
“Arvelle.” Tiernon gives me a gentle shake. “Breathe.”
My lower lip trembles and I sink my teeth into it, pushing him away. He releases me, and I stumble into my bedroom, thankful no one has invited the Primus in.
For some reason, Rorrik wanted Tiberius Cotta dead.
And I’ve played right into his hands.