Chapter 43
Chapter Forty-Three
Dante
“Father speaks of the end more and more these days but, whether he is referring to the increasing odds of rebellion or something else, I cannot say.”
— From The Official Record of House Avus, As Recorded by Atticus, Son of Eximius
Aday later, I'd refused the captain's invitation to spar, citing soreness from having my ass so thoroughly handed to me by the enraged general.
Roman hadn't been pleased but he hadn't argued either.
Instead, he'd informed me we'd be setting out again this afternoon, making our way toward Pavos.
At least, the captain and the spy would.
I was now assigned to Adrian's group since the king was convinced whatever bastardized bond still existed between us made her stronger.
He wasn't interested in taking any risks where his weapon was concerned.
As a politician, I couldn't blame him. As a soldier, I hated him.
Sanctuary would be the harder battle. Every inch would be gained through fierce and determined bloodshed.
Pavos was a direct assault on powerful gods, of course, but it was also a distraction.
Roman could command his forces to pull back and flee at any minute, minimizing casualties as best as he could.
Sanctuary would be a fight until the wards fell, and maybe after as well. Or, if Adrian couldn't bring them down…
I shuddered. Why hadn't the prince’s godsdamned grandmother Seen anything about that?
I was still reeling from the realization that the old woman who'd approached me with cryptic words and even more terrifying warnings was the king's own mother.
I'd dismissed her before, as an elder who'd long ago lost her wits, but now I couldn't help but play back every word she'd said to me in my mind, over and over again.
Maybe it was a good thing Adrian could no longer hear my thoughts.
I ate my breakfast by the window until I saw her and the general practicing with her magic in the garden below.
He circled her with his jaw set, scowl firmly in place as always, criticizing her stance, her gestures, even her breathing.
I saw the well-aimed kick coming before he did and snorted into my tea when he bent over with a growl, clutching his stomach while Adrian tossed her hazel locks over her shoulder and stormed inside.
"He told you we were leaving?" a familiar voice asked from behind me.
I didn't have to turn to know it was Ksenia. Phantom prowled toward me, blocking my view out the window as he took to sunning himself on the ledge.
"This afternoon," I replied, sipping my tea and turning my attention back to the window where I could just see Roman leading a group of guards in morning exercises beyond the sight of Phantom licking his massive paw. "Don't slobber on my curtains."
His red gaze flicked to mine and I could have sworn his eyes rolled. Setting down my tea, I stood and turned to find Ksenia watching me, arms crossed and lips set in a deep frown.
"What?" I asked, wary.
"I don't like separating like this," she replied.
"Growing soft on us, spy? I didn't realize you'd gotten so attached to me."
"I'm not. But you're important to her."
"Which is why I'll be with her."
"Exactly. Both of you, together, far away from where I can defend you."
"You defend us by keeping the gods so busy they don't notice us sneaking in their back door. You protect us by keeping word of the attack from getting to them until the city falls. And you trust those going with us to do the rest."
Her frown deepened.
"That's the thing," she muttered. "I don't trust who's going with you."
I hesitated, thinking I might know exactly what she meant. Our eyes met and some unspoken meaning passed between us.
"What do you know?" I ground out.
"More than you're ready for, Betrayer," she spat and I flinched.
So many had called me that since I'd been kidnapped from the city of the gods and brought amongst the humans, but not her. Never her.
"Should I keep an eye on him?" I asked, choosing not to take visible offense, not to let her know how deeply she'd wounded me. Hide the pain, always.
"Yes," she replied easily.
My eyes trailed toward the open window and the garden where the general had been standing moments before. Ksenia didn't trust him. That wasn't all that surprising given the nature of the spy's duty and the fact that she never truly seemed to trust anyone, but something was different about this.
The general had brought Adrian all the way here, had taken pains to train her himself, had defended her honor in the sparring field, and gods knew whatever else he'd done for her since he pulled her from the wreckage of the wards around the Underground.
He was by her side, always. Her protector, defending the single greatest hope against the Geist his people had ever had.
Ksenia knew something.
"Tell me what you know," I demanded, stepping closer.
"It would do the general a disservice to make assumptions about his future based on his past," Ksenia replied slowly, carefully.
My brows drew together as I tried to make sense of that. She was obviously alluding to something, watching me closely and hoping I would understand what she was trying to say. I didn't.
"You're leaving sooner," she said then, changing the subject with a fair amount of disappointment once she realized I wasn't catching on.
"Any moment now, I imagine. I can't…you'll be with them now, Dante, and they support her.
If she decides to end you, neither Roman nor I will be around to stop her. "
"I was never under any impression you would defend me anyway," I grumbled. "As I recall, you're the ones who brought me to her in chains in the first place."
Her lips slanted into a frown but she dipped her head in acknowledgement of the point.
"Until we meet again, Viper.”
Then she bowed slightly, pressing her hands together in a strange way I wasn't familiar with, some human custom, no doubt. I mimicked the movement and watched as she passed through my door again, Phantom trailing after her.
It wasn't long until one of the general's stone-faced warriors came to fetch me. He walked me down the hall to meet with the others in the foyer. I stayed in the back, lingering with the warrior who seemed to be assigned to watch over me.
I saw Adrian's friend first, the one from the Underground who hadn't been Culled.
I still couldn't remember his name. He stood in a circle of warriors, telling some loud story I tried not to hear that the others were chuckling and shaking their heads at.
Adrian stood with the general at the front of the group.
She kept fidgeting with her strange and beautiful armor, shifting on her feet and pulling at the metal collar, as she listened to the general speaking with one of his men in low tones.
I glared at the back of his head, remembering the sting of every slap of his blade from the day before.
What an asshole.
"Thank you, Tamim, you may go," someone spoke suddenly from beside me.
I glanced over to find Adrian's other friend at my side.
The girl with the braids from the Second Ring whose name was Zya stood still as the warrior who'd fetched me, Tamim, I supposed, nodded and sauntered off to join the group with the Underground boy.
Zya frowned but didn't glance my way, keeping her eyes on Adrian at the head of the crowd instead.
"What did you do to get assigned as my babysitter?" I asked, my voice low so only she could hear.
She tensed, jaw clenching immediately.
"I happen to be one of the few in our camp whom Adrian trusts not to kill you," she ground out through gritted teeth, sharp gaze flicking up to me once. "Though I'm more than willing to try if you keep up that attitude."
I rolled my eyes, looking back to the front just as the doors to the foyer began to open. Second Ringers. Always thought themselves so capable.
"You're welcome to try," I muttered back. "Everyone else has been since the moment I arrived in Pavos."
"The moment you betrayed your bonded, you mean."
I fought against the wince, controlling my reaction so she couldn't see just how expertly she'd struck at my soul.
And the doubt reared its ugly head again, the way it had since the old woman opened her mouth and spoke of gods and goddesses beyond the Geist, about prophecies and soul bonds and mates, about destiny and choice.
Not a true bond.
Her words played in my head as a mockery of my heart.
There was nothing more true, more genuine, more authentic than the bond I'd felt with Adrian.
There was nothing more real than my feelings for her.
Even though I hadn't chosen them when it mattered, that didn't mean they weren't there.
That was the truth. Because it was my truth. No matter what human religion dictated.
"You need to let her…" Zya spoke again, drawing me out of my thoughts.
She trailed off and I glanced over to find her chewing on her bottom lip, uncertain.
There was something underlying her tone as well.
I could hear it plainly in the difference between it and how she'd addressed me before.
Concern. "Dante, you need to let her go. "
I exhaled, virtually deflating. I hadn't been sure what her words were going to be but those hurt more than the ones she'd spoken before.
"I can't," I whispered.
"I know you care for her," she replied and it almost sounded like pity. "I know you even think you love her—"
"I do."
"When you love someone, you don't do that to them."