Page 100 of Trial of Bronze and Blood
Sabina’s shoulders droop, and she hangs her head. “I feel so useless.”
“I chose this.” Dru places a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Never feel guilty for a choice someone else made.”
“Only Dru would get philosophical this early in the morning,” a voice says from across the courtyard.
Marcus approaches the table, wearing a similar outfit to hers, including the length of the tunic and the dagger at his side. He’s already pulled his hair back loosely, displaying his growing beard and icy-blue eyes. He grabs a plate and fills it as Dru does the same, swallowing hard against her racing pulse.
“Sheiswise beyond her years,” Cato defends her.
“Only because our way of life ages us.” Sitting down again, she points between Marcus and herself. “Physically, I’m twenty-four, but mentally, I’m somewhere between forty and sixty, depending on the day.”
Cato snorts softly. “No wonder you go to bed so early.”
She gently shoves his shoulder, choosing not to bring up how she stayed out all night with him and the bard.
“Not all of us had the privilege of growing up in a palace.”
Cato sobers, his voice taking on an edge. “Our hardships aren’t the same, but that doesn’t make mine any less legitimate.”
Before she can say anything, he gets to his feet, the legs of the wooden chair screeching against the marble. “The pressures of ruling an entire nation while thwarting the Imperium’s constant attempts to conquer us threaten to crush me every day. Since the Phaedrans have been here, I’ve barely eaten or slept. The only time I’ve gotten any rest was the night of the festival, when I drank myself into oblivion.”
Marcus speaks up. “She didn’t mean it that way, Cato.”
He turns his ire on Marcus. “I know, and perhaps that’s the problem. You treat me like I’m this fragile prince, but I never have been. I’ve been a lot of things, and now I am Sovrano Cato, King of Anziano. I don’t need your pity or your protection.”
Despite understanding where he’s coming from, anger simmers in her blood. Did he forget everything she said to him a couple nights ago?Maybe he was too inebriated to remember.She nearly brings up that night, to prove his judgment isn’t always sound. But she doesn’t want to betray his trust by saying it in front of Marcus.
“You mean the reasonI’mhere?”
Cato’s laugh drips with contempt. “You’re here to train me, not protect me. You did the fool thing and volunteered for the trials yourself.”
“To save Sabina’s life,” she reminds him.
“Whatever you must tell yourself.”
Marcus stands now, his voice deepening. “Cato, that’s unfair.”
“None of this is fair, Marcus,” he yells, before taking a trembling breath and flexing his hands. “Forgive me—my anger is misplaced. I need to take some time to center myself before the trial today.”
Without another word, he stalks off to his chambers.
Dru watches him leave until he shuts the door behind him. “He’s in a good mood.”
“He has reason enough to be angry,” Marcus says, “but he shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
Of course, he shouldn’t have, but can she blame him?
“He’s right about one thing: we all need to prepare for today.”
“Hmm,” Marcus replies, clearly distracted.
She shifts toward him. “What is it?”
“Just thinking about how the Faithless always taught us to come into a situation as prepared as possible. But you can’t prepare for something you don’t have control over.”
She picks an errant string off his bare shoulder, and she could swear his breath shudders out between his lips.
“Preparedness is perceived control. It’ll only take you so far,” Dru says softly. “Good of you to finally be worried about something, though; I was concerned you didn’t care about your own life as much as the rest of us.”
