Page 35 of Realms of Swords and Storms
I exhaled slowly, relief washing over me. The last thing I needed was to be assigned extra readings as punishment for inattention. My nights were already restless enough.
I felt Jalend's eyes on me then, a palpable weight. Against my better judgment, I glanced his way. He was watching me with an intensity that made my stomach tighten, his expression a mixture of concern and something deeper, more primal. The memory of his mouth on mine, his hands exploring my body, flashed unbidden through my mind. I looked away quickly, fixing my attention on my notes and the tremor in my hand that made my writing uneven.
The rest of the lecture passed in a blur of diagrams and terminology. I forced myself to focus, to take meticulous notes, to answer when called upon. The routine of academic discipline was a lifeline I clung to, a way to keep from drowning in the confusion of my own feelings.
When Professor Marken finally dismissed us, I gathered my materials quickly, intending to escape before Jalend could approach me. But I wasn't fast enough.
"Livia," he said softly, falling into step beside me as I exited the classroom. "We need to talk."
"I have training with Sirrax," I lied, not meeting his eyes.
"After, then."
I hesitated, searching for another excuse. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"Why not?" His voice was low, for my ears alone despite the crowd of students flowing around us in the corridor. "Are you going to pretend nothing happened?"
"Nothing should have happened," I replied, my tone sharper than I intended. "It was a mistake."
He caught my arm, gently but firmly pulling me to the side of the corridor where we wouldn't be overheard. "Look me in the eye and tell me you believe that," he challenged.
I forced myself to meet his gaze, those striking blue eyes that had haunted my dreams. "It doesn't matter what I believe," I said quietly. "It matters what's possible."
"And you've decided what's possible." It wasn't a question.
"I've accepted reality," I corrected. "Your family is far above mine. We come from different worlds, Jalend. What happened yesterday... it can't go anywhere."
Something flickered in his expression—frustration, determination, perhaps even pain. "That's not for you to decide alone."
"It's not a decision at all. It's simply how things are." I pulled my arm from his grasp. "I need to go."
This time he didn't try to stop me as I walked away, but I could feel his eyes following me until I turned the corner. Only then did I let out the breath I'd been holding, leaning briefly against the cool stone wall of the corridor.
Gods, what a mess I'd made of things.
I didn't go to train with Sirrax as I'd claimed. Instead, I retreated to my quarters, feeling exhausted and completelyoverwhelmed by the thoughts that warred in my mind. I sat heavily on the edge of the bed, running my hands over my face. My thoughts were a tangled mess, and beneath them all lurked a familiar darkness—the guilt and rage that had driven me since the day my world burned.
The Emperor had taken everything from me. My family, my home, my future. I had come to the academy with one purpose: to get close enough to kill him. To avenge those I had lost. It was the fire that had kept me alive through years of slavery, through my desperate escape, through the long and dangerous infiltration of the academy. And now? Now I was making out with noble men in stables and daydreaming during tactical lessons. I was losing sight of my purpose, distracted by feelings I had no right to indulge. Worse, I was lying to Jalend, and I hated how much that upset me. He thought I was Livia Cantius, daughter of a minor noble house from the eastern provinces. Low status compared to his own family, but still a possible prospect for a wife and mother to his heirs. I had been trying to pretend I wasn’t interested in him, that I felt nothing, but that had come to a crashing halt after the stables yesterday. Now he knew what I felt for him, and I had no more excuses why we couldn’t be together. None I could reveal to him anyway. He didn’t know I had spent most of my life as a slave, witnessing firsthand the cruelty of imperial rule or that I had other lovers that were slaves, and demons, and dragons. And he didn’t know about the blood on my hands that hadn’t been spilled for survival in the arena.
Arilius.
Even thinking his name made my stomach churn. I still saw his face in my dreams—the shock in his eyes as my dagger slid between his ribs, the confusion giving way to understanding as he recognized me, the gurgle of blood on his lips as he tried to cry out. I remembered the weight of his body as he collapsedagainst me, the warmth of his blood soaking through my clothes. I had expected to feel triumph in that moment. Satisfaction. The first taste of the vengeance I craved. Instead, I had felt... hollow. Sick. And in the weeks since, the memory had not faded as I'd hoped it would. If anything, it had grown sharper, more haunting.
If killing one man—a man I hated, a man who had murdered my brother—left me so broken, what would killing the Emperor do to what remained of my soul?
A knock at my door startled me from my dark thoughts. For a moment I considered ignoring it, pretending to be absent, but the knock came again, more insistent.
"Livia? It's Tarshi.” My heart leapt at the sound of his voice even now. I rose and opened the door.
He stood in the corridor, his tall frame filling the doorway, those dark eyes that I'd drowned in countless times immediately taking in my dishevelled state.
Without a word, he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.
"You look terrible," he said bluntly.
Despite everything, I felt a small smile tug at my lips. Tarshi had never been one to soften his observations with tact. "Thanks. Always good to see you too."
He moved further into the room, studying me with an intensity that made my skin warm. Once, he would have pulled me into his arms immediately, kissed me until I forgot whatever was troubling me. But lately there had been a distance between us, a hesitation that frightened me more than I cared to admit.
