Chapter 19 #3
One of the servants slipped down a side corridor and returned moments later. “The medicus has cleared him for a brief visit.”
Relief surged through me.
“We have to be quick,” Marcus added, his tone firm but not unkind.
I nodded, already moving forward, my focus narrowing to a single thought. He reached the door first and opened it, stepping aside to let me pass. I hesitated only a moment before crossing the threshold.
The room smelled of salves and clean linen—herbs crushed and warmed, sharp beneath the calmer scent of fresh water. It was quiet, carefully kept. I took in the low table cluttered with vials and cloth, the chair drawn close to the bed, the traces of care layered over damage.
The medicus dipped his head. “Please keep the visit brief. He’s stable, but still fragile. I’ll be outside the door—call if you need anything.”
I barely registered the words. My eyes had already found Elion.
He lay propped against the pillows, thinner than I remembered, his skin drawn tight. His red hair was streaked more heavily with gray, his face etched with lines that hadn’t been there weeks ago.
He looked older. Weaker. But still unmistakably himself.
Something inside me broke. Tears blurred my vision before I could stop them, hot and sudden, all the fear and anger of the past weeks rushing at once. I crossed the room in a few unsteady steps and sank carefully beside the bed, folding myself into him as gently as I could.
“Elion,” I whispered, my voice breaking.
He lifted his arms, holding me with what strength he had, pressing his cheek against my hair. “Easy, Tina,” he murmured. “I’m here. It’s alright.”
It wasn’t—but the sound of his voice undid me all the same. He was crying too. Softly. The kind of tears men like him pretended not to shed.
“I missed you,” I said into his shoulder, the words pulled from me.
“I know,” he replied. “I missed you too.”
After a moment, he drew back enough to look at me, his mouth curving despite the strain. “You always did have a talent for dramatic entrances,” he said weakly. “Next time, try knocking first instead of bursting in like the world’s ending.”
A broken laugh escaped me through my tears.
Marcus cleared his throat behind us. “Elion,” he said. “It’s good to see you awake, my friend.”
Elion turned his head slightly. “Marcus. Thank you—for this. For arranging the visit.”
“You do not have to thank me. It was the least I could do.”
I huffed to myself. But stayed close to Elion’s side, my hand curled carefully around his, grounding myself in the simple, undeniable truth of him being here. Alive.
“I’ll give you some privacy,” Marcus said. “I’ll be on the balcony. I’ll join you again when it’s time to leave.”
The doors stood open to the night, the dark sky scattered with stars, cool air drifting in to stir the curtains and carry away the heavier scents of the room. He moved toward it without another word, his figure briefly outlined against the night before he disappeared from sight.
I turned back to Elion, my fingers tightening around his.
He wiped away a tear on my face. “I’m so happy to see you. You look well.”
“Never mind how I look. How are you? Are they treating you well?” I asked.
“Very well. Like I am the master of this house himself.” A faint breath left him. “I was so worried when I awoke and found you gone.”
“As you can see. I’ve survived. You would be proud of me,” I said. “Of how I’ve learned to compose myself in the Ludaryn.”
His mouth curved, the tension in his features easing. “I never doubted that for a moment. I was only ever worried that your sharp tongue might get you into trouble. Like your father.”
“It hasn’t yet.”
His brow lifted. “Yet,” he echoed, amused.
“Well maybe only a little.” I brushed my thumb over his knuckles.
For the first time since entering the room, the weight on my chest eased a little. I hesitated only a moment before speaking. “It was the Praetor. He attacked us. And he was the one who arranged for me to be taken into the Ludaryn.”
His expression didn’t change—but something darkened behind his eyes.
“I know,” he said. “The moment I saw him look at you, I knew.” His jaw tightened. “Men like him don’t see women. They see opportunity and possession.” He shifted, wincing, then fixed me with a searching look. “Has he touched you? Or done you any other harm?”
“No. Not yet.” I drew a slow breath. “He’s actually the reason I’m here now. I agreed to let him court me—on my terms, in exchange for this visit.”
He stared at me.
“You did what ?”
“I had no choice. Refusing him outright would have made things worse. This way, I keep him at a distance. I control the pace.”
“That man is dangerous. And his wife—” His mouth thinned. “She’s worse. A viper. Clever, patient, and cruel. If she thinks you threaten her place—”
“I know. I met her at the Aedile’s gathering, I remember.” I squeezed his hand gently. “But for now, I need him occupied. If I don’t give him something, he’ll take it by force.”
He closed his eyes, pain cutting across his face, not from his wounds, but from helplessness. When he opened them again, his gaze was steady, fierce.
“Be careful,” he said. “Promise me that.”
“I promise.”
I glanced toward the open doors, toward the balcony beyond. Marcus stood with his back to us, outlined against the night, the murmur of the city drifting up around him. Too far to hear. Close enough to remind me to be careful. I lowered my voice until it was barely more than breath.
“I’ve heard of a rebellion. Not rumors—real whispers. There was an arrest in the street on the way here. Legionnaires dragged two servants out of a drinking house. They tried to run.”
No sudden intake of breath. No surprise. Instead, he reached for my hand and closed his fingers around it, firm despite his weakness.
“Put it out of your mind,” he said.
I searched his face, unsettled now. “Uncle—”
“No. This isn’t something you involve yourself in right now.”
“You are already walking a dangerous path,” he continued. “Do not add another weight to it. There are truths that keep people alive precisely because they are not pursued.”
My hand slipped from his, my jaw tightening. “You don’t get to dismiss this so easily. Not when it’s happening in the open. Not when people are dying in the streets.”
I studied him, the realization settling cold and heavy. “You knew. You’ve known. And you never told me.”
He drew a slow breath before meeting my gaze.
“Yes.”
“Why? Don’t you trust me?”
“Because there are things you can’t know. Not without it costing you everything.” His hand found mine again, his grip gentle. “I shielded you because I promised your parents I would. I swore I would keep you alive—no matter what that required of me.”
His voice softened, but the resolve beneath it didn’t. “You were never meant to carry this. Not the rebellion. Not the blood it brings. I took that burden so you wouldn’t have to.”
The weight of his words pressed in on me. Suffocating me.
I became aware of how loud we’d grown. Of the open doors. Of the night air carrying our voices farther than it should.
“We don’t have much time,” I whispered. “Tell me what you know. You can’t keep me in the dark any longer. I intend to flee and join them.”
His breath hitched. “No, Tina—don’t. Please.” He swallowed. “The ritual I was meant to show you… it’s imperative you learn it soon. When I’m well, I will find a way to teach you.”
Urgency pressed in, bearing down through my shoulders as his words took hold.
“Why do I need to know it? If you mean for me to stay caged, then tell me now. If you don’t…” I drew a breath. “I’ll find a way for both of us to get out of here. I can’t stay there any longer. You don’t know what it’s costing me.”
He opened his mouth to answer—
“That’s enough,” Marcus said from the threshold. “It’s time.”
I straightened, heat rising in my chest. “Already?” I protested. “He’s barely had time—”
“This visit was always meant to be brief,” he interrupted, studying Elion, his frown faint but unmistakable. Assessing. Measuring.
Before I could argue further, Elion gave a small nod. “He’s right. Time to go.”
Frustration tightened my throat. “No—”
He lifted a hand, stopping me. Then, with a tenderness that undid me far more than his anger ever could, he reached up and brushed a loose lock of hair away from my face, tucking it carefully behind my ear.
“You look so much like your mother,” he said, smiling. “But your temper—” his eyes warmed, amused, “—that you inherited from my brother. Along with the hair.”
My chest ached. “I don’t want to leave you,” I said.
“I know. But you will find your way in the Ludaryn. You always do.” His thumb pressed lightly against my cheek. “We’ll see each other again soon. Everything will be alright, I’m in good hands.”
His gaze held mine, the warning clear in his expression. “As soon as I’m well, I’ll be allowed to visit you every month. Don’t forget that.”
I wanted to argue. To demand answers. To stay. But the moment was already slipping away.
Marcus stepped aside, guiding me gently but firmly toward the door. I allowed myself one last look back. Elion was watching me, calm and certain.
Then the door closed behind me.
Marcus said little during the carriage ride back to the Ludaryn.
I didn’t mind the silence. I was too tired for conversation, too drained by the sight of Elion.
Seeing him had loosened something inside me, as though the walls I’d kept standing since entering the Ludaryn had finally given way, letting everything I’d been holding back spill out.
My mind lingered on his words—the urgency in his voice, the way he had stopped short of telling me what he had discovered, everything he’d been withholding all this time. Whatever it was, he had meant for me to learn it alone. In secret.
When we returned to the Ludaryn, Marcus told me he had urgent business to attend to, despite the hour nearing midnight, and left without another word. I didn’t stop him.