Page 129 of Trial of Bronze and Blood
Alessandra straightens. “We must prepare for the worst, then.”
Marcus holds Cato’s gaze. “I’m not sure there’s a way to prepare ourselves for the worst outcome of tomorrow.”
“Even when death is the expectation,” Cato says quietly, “it comes as a surprise.”
Marcus swallows at those words. “Will I see you both back at the palace soon?”
“Yes.” Cato’s shoulders slump. “I must host that horrid champions’ dinner.”
With that, Marcus leaves mother and son to their whims. Marcus never met his own mother, and Alessandra has taken on the role since he first came to Anziano. She treats him like her own son, and he’ll be forever grateful.
Heading back into the temple, he finds the high priestess waiting for him.
“Before you leave my temple, I must be sure of your intentions: what is it you desire?”
He should be surprised by the question, but he’s not. If anything, he should’ve expected to be asked. Given his Faithless training, Marcus rarely enters the temple, and the Tredici see him as an enigma: a godsless man serving as protector of the king whose entire line was chosen by the gods.
Given he’ll likely die tomorrow, however, he decides to answer her question truthfully.
“Too many things for one man. And none of them within my control.”
She smiles, as if she caught him doing something he shouldn’t have. “It takes a great man to admit such a thing.”
“I won’t pretend to be a great man.”
“That is what makes you one.” She places a hand over his chest, the same spot one of the Tredici marked him the day of the ceremony. “You will need to be that man if you’re to survive the coming months.”
He stares into her bright, golden eyes. “Assuming I don’t die tomorrow.”
Her eyes grow visibly white for a moment before returning, as he’s seen happen only once or twice before. A shiver slices down his spine, but he doesn’t flinch.
She removes her hand. “You must face much more before the gods will allow that to happen.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
DRUSILLA
Marcus knows more than he’s letting on, and Dru has been at her wit’s end all day about him keeping her in the dark.
The run to the crystal pool lives at odds in her mind. On the one hand, after the way he held her and brushed his lips against her neck, she has no doubt Marcus feels something more than comradery for her. On the other, the great secret he’s been keeping from her all this time is much larger than she gave it credit for. She assumed it revolved around direct orders from the Faithless.
Now, she wonders if the Faithless are involved at all.
Marcus told her the Faithless ordered him to Cato’s side, but he never specified the purpose of the order. If she were to guess, they sent him here to protect Cato against the Imperium’s constant push for a “peaceful” transfer of power. The purpose of the Faithless has always been to thwart the Phaedran agenda. And yet, what if that’s not the reason? Or, not the only reason?
Marcus has been in Anziano for over six years now, having barely any contact with the outside world. He should be communicating with the Faithless to keep them updated on his progress and his learnings. But, given everyone except the Three believed he defected,they likely haven’t responded, as any correspondence would’ve outed him.
It’s driving her to madness, now knowing the truth.
The only bright spot from this morning is how good she felt after she leapt into the pool. She could swear the crystals in the water rejuvenated her. The wounds on her arms appear weeks-healed rather than a few days, and the cut on her cheek from the Namican arrow is nothing but a white scar.
Even Sabina made a comment about them healing well when she dressed her for dinner. The blue crystal around Sabina’s neck glinted in the muted afternoon light as she fiddled with the straps of her dress, making Dru wonder if it came from the pool.
She stares down at the symbol the Tredici forged on her arm the night of the festival. Her ability to heal quicker could also be from whatever happened to her with the Viverna. She’s been so distracted with the trials that she nearly forgot it happened. Or, she purposefully blocked it from her mind, knowing it would distract her.
Now, the need to talk to the high priestess, to see the dragon again before the final trial if only to prove to herself it’s real, itches beneath her skin.
Sitting beside Cato’s mother at a much larger table than usual inside the courtyard, she can’t help stewing in her own thoughts. She’s angry at the circumstances the people of Anziano have been placed in, and she’s not sure who she blames more: the people of Anziano for welcoming their enemies in, or the Imperium for daring to knock in the first place.
