Page 143 of Trial of Bronze and Blood
Cato sighs. “One of my own people tried to murder me in my sleep tonight. I don’t have much hope for anything anymore.”
Marcus marches up to him. “You’re not allowed to give up either.”
“Don’t worry about that.” Cato finishes his second cup of wine. “I like living too much. And the Imperium will be more than happy to take everything from the people I love if I die. I can’t allow that.”
Pouring a third cup of wine, Cato gets to his feet. “Get some sleep. Or better yet, see if Dru’s still awake.”
Marcus glances outside, the sky continuing to rid itself of the black cloak of night.
“It’s too late. Morning’s nearly come.”
“An even better reason to leave me in peace.” He regards Marcus, bottom lip trembling, reddened eyes pleading. “Please.”
“As you command, my king.” Marcus bows his head and leaves.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
DRUSILLA
Despite a Durevolian attempting regicide on Cato, Dru manages to fall back into a fitful sleep in her own bed, waking only at the sound of the bell tolling eight times. She lies in bed for a while, enjoying the sunrise until the bell tolls ten times. A part of her wishes she could’ve returned to Marcus’s bed, but she’s not sure she would want to leave it again if she did.
Last night was…
She stretches out her limbs and sighs contentedly, words eluding her. More than the act itself, she finally told Marcus that she loved him. And he didn’t deny her. In fact, he did the opposite. He showed her just how much he loves her in return—to the point she feels like a fool for believing otherwise.
She recalls his hands on her, inside her, the heat between them undeniable. Inevitable. Even now, she craves him more than she does food or water.
You have to get him out of your thoughts now, so you can focus on not dying in the final trial.
It appears Sabina has let Dru sleep in, so she decides to dress herself before the girl can knock on her door. Pulling on herundergarments, she can’t help considering the consequences of what happened. If all Marcus said was true, it changes her plans about leaving here once the trials are over. She has no idea how everything’s going to turn out today, but if somehow all three of them manage to survive, she wants to stay—something the Faithless are unlikely to allow.
Tightening the belt around her beige tunic, she places the metal breastplate custom made by the royal armorer for Cato’s sister over her head, tightening the straps until it fits snug enough around her. She’s shocked at how light the metal is, wondering what it’s made of and if it’ll be strong enough to stop a spear. Next, she attaches a thick leather pauldron to her left shoulder, leaving her right unadorned, then places leather armbands around both forearms.
Sitting on the bed with her back to the balcony, she laces up her sandals and tightens the greaves and polyens made from the same metal as the breastplate around her shins and over her knees.
Standing, she sets to braiding her hair.I’ll need to check on Cato fir?—
She doesn’t get the chance to finish her thought before someone behind her places a thick gag around her mouth.
Instinctively, she bucks against their hold on her, but they’re too strong for it to do much good. Especially when they yank her arms behind her and place irons around her covered wrists.Deodamnatus. They’ve effectively taken away any chance of her fighting back.
A knock at her door gives her some hope. She screams against her gag as Sabina enters her room. For once, she’s glad the girl didn’t wait to be invited in.
Sabina stops in the threshold, eyes widening, mouth open. She doesn’t make a single sound, feet rooted to the floor.Stellae, scream, yell, run, dosomething.
Dru screams again right as her captor places a blindfold over her eyes, tying it so tight her head aches.
“Dru?” she hears Sabina squeak out. It’s not loud enough to bring anyone running to findout what’s happening.
With a grunt, her captor lifts Dru off the ground and carries her over to the balcony as she squirms in his hold. Tying a rope a few times around her midsection and her calves, he lifts her over the bar. The sound of rope chafing against metal accompanies her as she’s lowered down the cliffs of the palace. She curses herself.I never did warn Marcus about this particular vulnerability.
Breathing hard through her gag, she tries to think of a way out of this, of who would want to abduct her before the final trial and what good—or bad—it could possibly do.
A pair of rough hands grab her waist right before her feet touch down on what she assumes to be the path that leads down to the beach. Whoever they are, they throw her over their shoulder like a bale of hay, not speaking a single word to her. She squirms in their grasp, but to no avail.
They walk in the open air for some time, the morning sun beating down on them. Sweat dampens her neck and back as she continues to buck against her captor.
It doesn’t feel like they’re going down as much as she thought they would by this point.Maybe we’re not on the path to the beach.She listens for something that might tell her where she is, but only the sounds of the waves fill her ears, the smell of dead seaweed hitting the back of her throat through the cloth.
