Chapter Twenty-Three
“Consequences are nature’s answer to sin. Men fail. This is to be expected. But take your punishment with dignity for you are meant to become stronger through the suffering.”
She said nothing. She just stood there, silhouetted by the light of the warm house beyond, the house that my family had been given because of me.
“Adrian,” Warren spoke from behind her, and I blinked at him, my shock giving way to my anger. “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you,” I snapped. I pushed my way past them and inside. “Where’s mother?”
“She’s gone to bed.”
“Wake her up. What I have to say concerns all of you, and I’ll only say it once.”
My brother gaped at me before shuffling away to do as I bid.
Dahlia and I stood in silence, not daring to look at one another as I fought through my emotions, doing everything possible to keep them bottled up and buried down deep.
I wanted to scream, to rage at her for putting herself in danger, to question her actions and how she could possibly live with herself for what she’d done, to ask her why she was here and what that meant.
But those were dangerous conversations, and I knew the answers to most of them anyway.
So I left the words unsaid. We were both better off that way.
“Adrian,” my mother said my name softly as she emerged into the hall, hair unbound and nightgown dragging along the wooden floor as she padded across it. “Did you—”
“In here,” I interrupted her, my voice louder than I intended. I gestured toward the living room off the side of the hallway.
My mother went without question, wrapping her small, threadbare shawl tighter around herself. Warren cast me a look of confusion but placed a hand on Dahlia’s back and led her gently into the living room too.
I stomped inside after them.
“I’ll have you know,” I spat the moment they were all seated, “I’ve spent the entire night trying to convince the leaders of House Viper and House Avus and therefore, the majority of the Tribunal, not to come after you for what you’re intending, Warren.”
“Adrian,” he gasped. “What—”
“Mother came to me. She told me what you intended, how she feared retribution from the Tribunal if word got out that you were attempting to undo their justice, how they might view a former Third Ringer completely disregarding their judgement and doing as he pleased.”
At least Dahlia had the presence of mind to hang her head in shame.
Warren merely gaped at me, stunned.
“I’m not making any sort of statement,” he said, as if he were in awe that anyone could possibly believe such a thing. “I only wanted to protect Dahlia.”
“And in doing so, you’ve failed to consider the consequences of your actions, or how they might affect your family.”
“She is my family,” Warren shouted, rising to his feet. I stumbled a step backward. My mother closed her eyes and lowered her head. Maurice appeared in the doorway, rubbing sleep from his eyes and watching the scene unfold. “We’re already married, Adrian. We signed the papers this evening.”
All the air was knocked from my lungs. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise.
This was the occasion I’d been working to arrange all evening, even if at the time, I’d only considered it as ensuring my brother’s safety.
For them, there was truly no reason to wait to make things official.
The sooner they did, the sooner Warren could rescue Dahlia from her destitution.
It made sense. I probably should’ve congratulated them.
But instead, it took all my willpower to keep my voice even and my fury from burning me from the inside out.
“But mother just came to me,” I said, stunned. “She—”
“She didn’t know,” Warren replied. “She was distraught. I thought it best to give her time to calm down before telling her.”
My eyes narrowed to slits.
“And when were you going to tell her, Warren? Before or after the Fellowship came to drag you away to await your judgement before the Tribunal?” I spat through gritted teeth.
“Do you have any idea what might have happened to you if I hadn’t been able to get House Viper and House Avus to agree not to pursue punishment for you?
What might have happened to Dahlia? Maurice?
Even mother? What might have happened to me, Warren?
I’m practically living in their house. My position there is precarious, and now I’ve used what little favor I had to defend my foolish brother from his own actions. ”
“She needed me, Adrian.” Warren stepped forward so his face was a mere foot away from mine. The anger between us hung, simmering, in the air around us. “And I was there. I can’t say the same for you.”
“You dare say that to me,” I shouted. “You dare accuse me of not being there for my friends and family while you stand in a warm, well-lit house that I provided for you?”
“Which of course you don’t fail to remind us of whenever the situation presents itself!” Warren screamed back.
“Children,” my mother snapped but neither of us paid her any mind.
“You have no idea what I had to agree to in order to keep them from knocking down your door this evening,” I seethed.
Tears came unbidden to my eyes, flowing hot and frustrated down my cheeks.
“You have no idea what I had to offer him, what I had to sacrifice for your safety, for all of your safety.”
Warren’s fury dissipated somewhat. It wasn’t often that I cried in front of them, any of them.
“What?” he asked, his voice softer, concerned. “What did you agree to, Adrian?”
I shook my head, blinking to clear the tears away and sniffling, mortified.
“I don’t need this.” I turned and stormed toward the door. “I have training to do.”
“Of course you do,” Warren scoffed, his anger returning. He threw his arms in the air. “There’s always training to do now that you’re the savior of Sanctuary, right, Adrian? Now that you’re one of them?”
I froze in the threshold.
“Warren,” my mother hissed but it was too late.
When I turned back to face my brother, it was with a hatred so deep and an anger so dark, I nearly feared myself. “Don’t ever ask me for anything again.”
I spun on my heels and swept down the hall.
My mother called out for me from the living room, but I ignored her. I wrenched open the front door and stepped out into the cool night in hopes that it would soothe my rising fury.
Where are you? I sent along the bond.
In my room, his reply was lazy but immediate.
I bit my lip, thinking about my own dark room in the House Viper estate, as a tear streaked down my face. I wiped it away.
Can I join? I asked.
I’ll keep the bed warm for you.
***
A month later, Dante and I were training harder than ever.
Milo had written to Myrine. He’d discovered a passage in some ancient text which seemed to indicate that the sixth Trial had something to do with speed. Since then, Dante and I hit the track surrounding the Mitte two to three times a day, running until our feet ached and our legs burned.
We hadn’t spoken once of the deal we’d made with the devil in the form of his grandfather.
If Dante and Cosmo had had further conversations regarding the free and unwanted use of my reproductive system, my partner hadn’t made it known to me, but I was sure, without asking, that he was doing everything in his power to circumvent that arrangement.
Though Cosmo had held up his end of the bargain, I’d greeted the news that the tribunal had officially called off any pursuit of punishment for my brother with a tired nod.
And I hadn’t visited them once since. Nor did they visit me.
I remained in the First Ring, not even descending to the Third to visit my own apartment.
Dante and I trained every moment of every day and sometimes into the night. It wasn’t uncommon for Myrine to wake us up and make us run laps around the estate in our pajamas. Though she rarely found us in our own rooms.
I fell asleep, more often than not, with repetitions of ancient prayers on my lips, hoping that they might come in handy in some Trial if I memorized enough of them.
The patriarch of House Viper had taken to throwing celebrations in our honor, to introduce members of the First Ring to the promising new candidates and to bid us luck in our training, but Dante and I both knew that the true purpose of the parties was to put us on display, to remind the other families of the power of House Viper and to secure the best possible matches for the descendants that would come after us.
I didn’t mind so much. It was yet another distraction from thinking about the rift between myself and my family, and a welcome one at that.
Milo often came to the parties, and Bria was always around.
Both of whom had become dear friends and were always capable of offering delightful conversation.
I had to endure the presence of Olympia though.
Her hatred for me had become nearly palpable, sharpened on the edge of her own failure in the Trials, and now she simply glared at me for the duration of those elaborate events from whatever corner of the room she stationed herself in.
Dante advised me to ignore it, and I did, despite the burning on the back of my neck everywhere I went.
I knew it didn’t help that his hands were always on me now.
They found the small of my back as we walked, brushed through my hair as we spoke, or gripped my hands as we sat.
I wasn’t foolish enough to hope Olympia hadn’t noticed.
Finally, after a month, Cosmo’s patience ran out, and Dante and I were summoned to his office.
We didn’t sit. We never did in this room, as if we both understood that we needed to be able to run out at a moment’s notice.
I wondered if it ever bothered Dante to regard his own grandfather in such a way.