Page 136 of Trial of Bronze and Blood
“This isn’t about the trials,” he presumes correctly. “I saw you talking with High Priestess Ginevra, and then you disappeared down the path to the arena. What did she say?”
She swallows and glances up at the sky, not yet trusting her own words.
“My mother was the high priestess of the Tredici before she got pregnant with me.”
Admitting it aloud, it sounds ridiculous—something she plucked straight out of a tall tale. And when Marcus doesn’t respond, she knows she made a mistake in saying it.I suppose I won’t be telling him about my bond with the dragon, either.
She has no idea what Marcus plans to say, but it’s not, “It makes sense.”
Spinning on him, the balcony ledge bites into her back as she regards him with indignation.He couldn’t have understood me correctly.
“No, it doesn’t. It can’t possibly be true, Marcus. I’m from Obliviscatur—that’s what my mother always told me. That’s what I’ve always known.”
He takes a step toward her, his light blue eyes soft, the gentle understanding in his expression stealing her breath from her chest. “When you were burned by the dragon’s fire and came out unscathed, a part of me knew then. I wasn’t sure I could trust the story the priestesses told me, given that you were completely healed underneath the plumeria ashes. But my understanding is, the only way to survive the molten fire of a Viverna is to haveTredici blood.”
Shaking her head, she almost wishes he hadn’t confirmed what Ginevra told her. She wants to be angry at him for not confiding this to her, and yet it doesn’t bother her as much as it should. Not when the betrayal wasn’t his to begin with.
“Why would my mother lie to me, tell me I’m from Obliviscatur when I’m not?”
“I’m not sure what happened with your mother, but I can’t imagine the story Ginevra told you was false. She’d have no reason to lie.”
He’s right.
“Do you remember that day I made you and Ovi run a hundred laps for being insubordinate?” he asks.
She laughs quietly, almost grateful for the change in subject. “Insubordinate is a nice way of putting what we did to earn those laps.”
He looks away. “I lied to you about the reason behind that particular punishment.”
Her gaze narrows. “The reason was no secret.”
“Yes, but the punishment should’ve fit the crime. The reason I gave you laps rather than shit duty is because one of the Three was bringing in new recruits from the last city in Obliviscatur to fall. If I kept you on the field and out of the barracks, there’d be little chance you’d see them.”
Anger stiffens her shoulders. How dare he keep her from her people?But they’re not your people, she reminds herself.
“Didn’t think I was strong enough to welcome them?” she asks, insulted he thought so little of her.
“It wasn’t that. Word among the trainers was that most of them were so weak with hunger from the blockades they wouldn’t make it out of basic training. They’d be thrown back out on the streets, and I knew you wouldn’t stand for it. You’d get yourself kicked out with them.”
He knows me too well.
“You didn’t have to protect me, Marcus.”
He smiles softly. “No, I didn’t, and that holds true now. I’m fairly certain you could kill me if properly motivated. But back then, I felt like I needed to. Even if it was for my own selfish reasons.”
There was nothing selfish about what he did; it was selflessfor him to think of her feelings like that. For so long, she thought Marcus unbelievably egotistical for defecting from the Faithless before taking his oaths. Even when she learned it was untrue, it didn’t change her mind, for the sole reason of his spurning her affection. Now, hearing that he cared about her enough to keep her from watching her people be thrown back out into the cold, unyielding world of the Imperium… She couldn’t have been more wrong about him.
The walls she put up around her heart begin to crack, but she props them up, not ready to let them crumble. Ovi would chide her for being stubborn.
“I’m sorry to have barged in here like this,” she says after a moment, “especially the night before our last trial. I just couldn’t stop thinking about what she said.”
He comes to stand next to her on the balcony, his own hip flush to the railing. The distance between them, no matter how small, physically hurts. Her fingers ache to reach out and wrap her arms around him, to feel him beneath her touch.
He reaches for her instead, gently moving her tangled mess of hair back over her shoulder. The callouses on the tips of his fingers brush her neck, her shoulder; she shivers and her stomach drops.
“There’s nothing you could do or say that would make me turn you away. Especially something this important.” He places his hand on the rail, close to her arm. “What was her reason for telling you now?”
“She said I could have humming magic, like the rest of the Tredici. Like Cato.”
