Page 114 of City of Secrets and Shadows
“Lies!” Valeria spat. “She attacked me without provocation. Cassia and Drusilla will confirm it.”
On cue, both women nodded vigorously, their expressions perfectly synchronized in righteous indignation.
“I saw everything, Legate,” I said, stepping forward. The words left my mouth before I could consider the political ramifications.“Lady Valeria deliberately obstructed Lady Cantius, forcing her under. It was a calculated action, not an accidental collision. Lady Cantius simply acted in self defence.”
Varius’s eyes narrowed as he looked between us. I knew what he was calculating — the political weight of Valeria’s family against my word as the Emperor’s son, even if that identity remained unofficial among the cadets.
“Is that so?” He turned to Livia. “And you responded by striking a fellow cadet?”
Livia lifted her chin, water still dripping from her hair down her neck. “I did. She tried to drown me. I made it clear that wouldn’t happen again.”
A murmur ran through the gathered students. Physical altercations between cadets were forbidden, but so was deliberate sabotage during trials. Both offenses carried severe penalties.
“This matter will be investigated,” Varius said finally. “Both of you will report to my office after the morning meal. For now, the water trial is concluded. Dismissed.”
As the group dispersed, Valeria brushed past Livia, her shoulder deliberately colliding with the other woman’s. Livia rolled her eyes, but ignored her, looking up at me instead. I fell in next to her as I walked back around the lake towards the academy buildings. As we moved away from the lake, I found myself unusually conscious of her presence beside me, of the grace with which she moved despite her exhaustion.
“Congratulations,” I said quietly. “That was impressively resourceful.”
She glanced up, a wariness in her eyes that softened slightly as she registered my sincerity. “Thank you for the swimming lessons, Lord Northreach. They proved invaluable today.”
“You’re a quick study,” I acknowledged. “And it’s Jalend. Though I don’t recall teaching you to fight off attacks in the water.”
A ghost of a smile touched her lips. “Some lessons I’ve learned on my own. Though maybe that could be featured in our next lesson?”
I blinked. Was she… insinuating something? I felt my chest tighten at the thought, and not unpleasantly. But something else in her tone caught my attention. Again, I had the sense that Lady Cantius was more than she appeared to be. The way she’d fought off Valeria underwater had not been the reflexive struggle of a noble-born woman, but the calculated counter of someone trained to combat.
“Lady Cantius—” I began, not entirely sure what I intended to say.
“Livia,” she corrected, then looked surprised at her own informality.
“Livia,” I repeated, the name feeling right somehow. “I hope you won’t allow today’s... difficulties... to discourage you.”
Her eyes met mine, steady and unafraid. “It takes more than a few spoiled nobles to discourage me… Jalend.”
Gods, I liked hearing my name on her lips.
When we reached the path that would take us back to the academy proper, she paused. “Thank you again for your assistance. With the swimming lessons and... today.”
I understood her meaning. “Valeria and her friends can be challenging opponents. But you handled them admirably.”
A shadow crossed her face. “I’ve faced worse opponents than spoiled noble girls.”
The way she said it sent a chill through me. Not because I feared for her, but because I believed her. There was something in her eyes — a depth of experience that made me wonder about her. Before I could inquire what she meant, she offered a formalbow and departed, leaving me with the distinct impression that I had just glimpsed the edge of a much larger mystery.
As I watched her walk away, I realized with some discomfort that I was already looking forward to seeing her again, of unravelling more about Lady Livia Cantius.
Such thoughts were dangerous. As the Imperial Heir, my personal attachments were matters of state policy, not private choice. My father had made it abundantly clear that my eventual marriage would be a political alliance, not a love match. Developing feelings for a minor provincial noble with questionable connections would be seen as not just inappropriate but potentially treasonous.
And yet, as I changed into dry clothes and prepared for the day’s theoretical lectures, I found my thoughts returning to her again and again.
29
The name had become a mantra in my mind. Lucius Arilius. A name I repeated silently as I trained, as I ate, as I lay awake at night between Septimus and Marcus. The soldier who had run my brother through with his sword while I watched helplessly.
I had imagined this moment for ten years. In the ludus, during the endless hours of training, during the nights when sleep wouldn’t come, I had pictured his face, remembering every detail — the scar above his right eye, the cruel smile, the cold emptiness in his gaze as he killed Tarus. I had rehearsed what I would say, what I would do, how I would make him suffer before he died.
Now, the parchment Septimus had given me lay open on my bed, the charcoal sketch of the man staring back at me. One of the Palace Guards. Living in comfort in the wealthy eastern quarter of the city. Honoured. Respected. While my brother’s bones lay in the sands of the desert.
