Page 116 of Trial of Bronze and Blood
He glances back at Dru to find her smile gone.Merda.He doesn’t bring it up again, and neither does Sabina, too caught up in herself.
Marcus finds the king in deep conversation with his mother as soon as he enters through the palace doors.
“Cato, we’ve got a problem.”
“I know.” Cato meets them in front of his throne. “Valente came by to make me aware of the mob. I’m glad to see you’re all unharmed.”
“Had you heard nothing about this, Marcus?” Alessandra asks. “A whisper, even?”
He thinks about what Valente told him the other morning, about secret meetings. He wishes he’d put more stock in it, even if there wasn’t enough information to go on.
“There have been rumblings of trial resisters for weeks now, but I had nothing but rumors to go on. Not until the lottery. And I was certain the Phaedran soldiers made enough of a point they wouldn’t try again.”
“There were a lot more of them today than at the lottery,” Dru offers in his defense. “That was a few malcontents. This was a rebellion. Someone must be organizing them.”
“Did they hurt anyone?” Cato asks. “Or destroy anything?”
“Not as far as I could tell.”
Cato sighs. “Station more men across town, but otherwise, let the Phaedrans deal with them.”
Marcus bows his head as Dru places her arm around Sabina’s shoulders again. They walk over to the pool and take off their sandals, dipping their legs in. Dru speaks to Sabina softly, quietly; the girl nods, a tear sliding down her cheek. Anger simmers inside him at what could’ve happened if the mob decided to turn violent. If he hadn’t been there to get them out.
“The Phaedrans will only be here a few more days,” Cato cuts into his thoughts. “Then they’ll be a distant memory.”
That’s unlikely, Marcus thinks, but Alessandra speaks first.
“That’s unrealistic, Cato.”
The king turns to his mother. “What do you mean?”
She taps her cane on the floor. “I did not raise you to be this naïve. The Phaedrans have come here to sink their influence into Anziano, and they won’t hesitate to put down a small mob of dissenters—your people—if it means maintaining control.”
“They promised Father they would leave after the trials are over,” Cato argues, though his voice is small. Smaller than Marcus has ever heard it.
Alessandra sighs, getting to her feet. “Believe what you will. They’re going to take what they want either way.” She regards Marcus. “Please bring me back to the temple.”
Cato stands. “No, mother—you’re staying here tonight. I won’t hear a word about it.”
Alessandra purses her lips. “Very well.” Then she walks off to the chambers Cato keeps ready for her and shuts the door behind her.
Cato scrunches his forehead with his ringed fingers. “I’m afraid you ended up bringing Drusilla into the belly of the beast instead of keeping her away from it.”
“It can’t be as bad as all that,” Marcus says, lowering his voice.
“We won’t know until the Imperium makes a true move for the throne, but if they do,” he sighs, “there’s nothing we can do to stop them.”
They stand together in silence until Dru extricates herself from Sabina and walks up to them.
“How is she?” Cato asks.
Dru tucks a piece of hair behind her ear that came loose from her braid. “A little shaken up, but I think she’s glad she went.”
Cato’s gaze looks far away. “I’ve always wondered what that place was like. But I’m not allowed in.”
Dru crosses her arms. “You can’t tell me you’re jealous. The ballo is the one place women get to be themselves without the eyes of men following them.”
He raises a brow. “Fair point.”
