Chapter 21 #2
My eyes slipped shut as the weight of it sank through me.
The pain in my head pulsed steadily, bleeding into the numbness in my chest until I could no longer tell where one ended and the other began.
Still… I couldn’t bring myself to hate him for it.
What would I have done if they’d threatened Elion?
The question unraveled as soon as it formed, anger and grief tangling together until neither felt clear, my thoughts drifting without anything solid to hold onto.
Livia sobbed quietly beside me. Jorius said nothing. Through the haze of pain and shock, something inside me began to harden. There was no time to sit in this—to break apart over it.
“We have to tell Talia,” I said, my voice unsteady, then firm. “We have to help her.”
“We can’t escape, Tina.” Jorius’s voice was low. “I can’t leave this place.”
“The least we can do is try. We could join the rebellion…”
“Jorius is right.” Livia’s voice trembled, but she didn’t look away.
“We can’t. I don’t want to spend my life running.
I’ve finally found something here. It may not be honorable, but at least I’m safe.
” She shook her head. “You don’t know what it’s like out there.
At the mercy of the Praetor… or the Aedile. ”
I pushed to my feet, my vision blurring for a moment as I pressed a hand to my head. Jorius steadied me. “The best we can do is comfort Talia,” he said, watching me. “Make sure she stays safe.”
That wasn’t enough.
“I do understand,” I said, forcing the words through the lump in my throat. “The safety you’re talking about, Livia—it’s an illusion. Look at what just happened here. We’re still at the mercy of men like the Praetor.”
I drew in a steadying breath. “I’m going to find a way out.
And if you don’t want to come with me, that’s fine.
I’ll go to my uncle first—he knows more than he lets on.
Then I’ll take Talia, and we’ll leave. Think carefully about your decision.
I won’t think less of you if you stay. But I’d rather you come with me…
” I lowered my voice. “I don’t want anything to happen to either of you here. ”
Jorius took my hand. “You’re not thinking clearly. Don’t do anything rash. Please… Tina. I won’t be able to help you if you get caught.”
“I’m not asking you to keep me safe,” I said. “I’m asking you to think about whether this place is everything you want out of life. If you really believe there’s nothing more beyond it.”
I offered him a small smile. Livia remained still, her chin lowered.
Jorius remained unmoved. “This is no time for arguments. For now… let’s just make sure Talia gets Tavin’s message before we decide anything.”
“Fine.” I relented, pulling the blossoms from my hair before scribbling my own note.
When the sun had fully risen outside my window and Carnis Noctyra had come to its end, we made our way into the corridor and stopped outside Talia’s chamber, only for the guards to block our path.
Livia drew them away easily, twirling her golden hair, enough of a distraction for me to slip forward.
I crouched quickly, shoving the note beneath the door alongside my own—hurried, uneven, promising her that I would help her escape, that we would find somewhere in Valystria where she could be safe. I didn’t know if it would be enough.
I straightened slowly, swallowing against the pain between my eyes as Jorius and I remained waiting—
until a cry broke through from inside. It was loud, raw, followed by something crashing hard against the walls. Then another. And another. Furniture. She was tearing the room apart.
The sobs that followed were worse.
We stood there, frozen, every instinct pulling me toward the door, toward her, but we couldn’t go to her. Anger rose. I took a step toward the guards speaking with Livia, my hands curling at my sides. Before I could do anything reckless, Jorius caught my arm and guided me away.
The heartbreak Talia must be feeling… and now she was alone.
The halls beyond the Atrium were beginning to stir.
Servants moved through the space with efficiency, gathering discarded cups and wilted garlands, sweeping sand and petals from the stone as though erasing all traces of excess.
The air still carried the sour-sweet remnants of Carnis Noctyra—wine, smoke, bodies—but it was already thinning, retreating beneath the steady press of daylight and routine.
The Ludaryn shedding its indulgence, piece by piece.
It all felt too normal after everything.
“I’ve got to return to work,” Livia said, slipping through a side chamber before emerging again with her arms full of empty flasks, the glass clinking softly. She offered us a careful smile. “Try to get through today. We have to remain strong. Especially you two. Tonight is the full moon.”
I sucked in a breath. I’d completely forgotten. By midday, I’d have to enter the forest grounds of the Ludaryn to gather the remaining ingredients—combining them with the lunathorn caps, along with what remained of Cassius’s stash. It would have to be enough. Enough to perform the Moonbound Rite.
Which meant I would be with Thanor all day.
“You’re right,” I said after a beat. “We have to remain strong. For Talia. We’ll find her afterward.”
“Agreed,” Jorius said. He lifted his hand, brushing his fingers lightly along my cheek. I flinched.
“You should go to the medicus first,” he said, the edge leaving his voice. “Have him try to mend this.”
“I will. Go eat. I’m not hungry, and my head is still pounding.” I sighed. “I’ll see you in the courtyard later.”
He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “I’ll bring you something anyway. You can’t perform the rite on an empty stomach.”
Livia slowed, then stopped, the flasks shifting in her arms as she adjusted them. She looked between us, something thoughtful flickering across her expression. “I should get these back where they belong,” she said.
“Thank you,” I said. “For last night. For supporting me.”
“One of these days, you’re going to tell us how you know about these tunnels, Livia,” Jorius said as he turned to go.
Her footsteps stilled. She glanced over her shoulder, glaring at him. “They’re just servant tunnels. Be careful today,” she murmured. “Good luck. Both of you.”
I glanced between the two of them, but the moment was already lost as she walked on and Jorius smiled at me. Though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
I’d spent the remainder of the morning reading in the library, the stillness helping to steady my mind.
Now the courtyard greeted me in a burst of activity.
Warriors moved across the sand in steady lines, their armor only partially fastened, their bodies still carrying the slackness of interrupted rest.
None of the Bondwards were there yet. A thread of disappointment pulled through me as I walked toward the medicus. I had hoped to see Talia. My eyes caught on the dark red stain still marking the sand. For a moment, everything else fell away.
Tavin, his lifeless eyes staring up at the night sky, unseeing.
Gone, just like Nexra. Like Cassius. The third death I had stood close enough to feel, close enough that it no longer felt distant.
It took hold of me, pressing in, as if death itself had begun to take notice of me, its reach drawing closer with every body left behind.
A flicker of fear followed, strong enough to root me in place—
The crack of Doctore’s whip split through the air. I flinched as the courtyard rushed back into focus. He stalked the grounds as usual, whip in hand, his presence impossible to ignore. Whatever indulgence the evening had allowed, he seemed intent on stripping it away entirely.
I stepped back—
—and collided with a solid chest, the impact turning me before I could pull away.
“What is this. What happened.”
The words came clipped, controlled. Thanor’s gaze settled on me, and I dropped mine to the sand, warmth rising along my cheek as the awareness of it all crept in—my injury, plain to see, and everything that had passed between us the night before.
He stepped closer, his presence filling the space with contained intensity, anger held beneath the surface.
“It’s nothing that concerns today’s duties,” I said, keeping my voice even. “I’m still able to work.”
“Look at me.”
It wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. I lifted my chin slowly, glaring at him. His hand slid into my hair, turning my head to the side as his finger traced the injury along my cheek. His touch ignited that familiar burn in my ear, but it lacked its usual intensity.
“Who did this.”
“I told you it won’t affect my work today,” I snapped. “Why do you care?”
Something flickered across his face before he forced it back. His hand fell from my hair, fingers curling at his side. His jaw worked, but he said nothing.
I exhaled through my nose. “I’m going to the medicus. I’ll return when I’m finished.”
I didn’t wait for his response. I left him behind, the crack of the whip and the scrape of boots swallowing whatever he might have said next.
Vibius grunted in acknowledgment as I entered, offering nothing more. I didn’t return the greeting. Instead, I leaned back against the table and let him inspect my face in silence.
The swelling along my cheek had darkened, mottled red and blue, the color already settling in.
He didn’t ask how it had happened. He simply reached for a jar and pressed cool salve into the bruise with efficiency—another mark to be treated, another woman sent back out into the Ludaryn with the damage smoothed over just enough to function.
The salve cooled as it sank into my skin, drawing the edge of pain away until what remained was distant and manageable. The drink he’d given me dulled the ache behind my eyes as well, enough to think clearly again, enough to feel like myself.
I nodded and stepped back from the table, already leaving. Outside, Thanor would be waiting, no doubt preparing to leave for the forest.