Page 39 of Trial of Bronze and Blood
“He hasn’t given me any reasontotrust him.”
He looks at her like he wants to agree.
“Like Cato said, he could’ve left us without horses at the brothel on the bridge, but he didn’t.”
Dru snorts. “Exactly. Why wouldn’t he leave when he had the chance? We got him out of Nusquam, like he wanted, and he had means of transportation. Why come all the way into Anziano?”
“Change of scenery?” He sighs. “Even if he’s Cato’s spy now, I’ll have my men keep an eye on him.”
She shakes her head. “I forgot you have men now.”
He raises a brow. “I was bound to fail upward at some point.”
“We both know I was the failure between the two of us.”
The silence weighs heavy enough to get her up from her chair, refusing to meet his gaze.
“Goodnight, Marcus.”
She feels his eyes on her as she leaves, but he doesn’t respond.
Dru heads to her own chamber across the palace. She hasn’t let herself be alone with him for too long since their sparring session in the arena yesterday. Especially after she found herself on top of him and feelings long-buried shot straight to the surface. She couldn’t help being transported back to their days with the Faithless when he was her instructor and she had less than two years left in her training before she took her rites.
Back then, the Faithless initiates had turned Marcus into a bit of a demigod. Effortlessly good at everything he did, people either wanted to be him or be with him. His hair was short then, bringing out the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones. She could swear his ice-blue eyes shone like stars, and she’d dreamt often about kissing his lips. Stellae, but she was in love with him—not the real sort of love, but the kind that made you do stupid things.
She shakes her head at her own absurdity as she crosses the opencourtyard. From his reaction in the arena, she clearly didn’t make him feel the same. The way he squirmed beneath her… he couldn’t wait for her to get off him.
At least he’s steadfast.
Reaching for the door, she hurries inside. She palms the coin purse with the torn remnants of the order and moves to leave again. But she doesn’t want to alarm the guards of her disappearance at night; they might make someone go with her. Or worse, they might tell Marcus. She wants—no,needs—to be alone for this.
Instead, she heads to the balcony, where the night air seeps into her room, chilling it. Leaning on the iron bar, she peers over the side.
The ocean waves crash into the craggy rocks at the bottom, spraying sea foam into the air. It’s a steep drop, but the moonlight clearly illuminates a path carved into the cliff.Too far to jump, though. Especially if she misses the path entirely.
She’s surprised to find none of Marcus’s men guarding the path. If ever there was a weakness in the palace guard—and with the visiting Phaedrans on the way—it’s this.I’m going to have to speak to him about that.
Squinting at the side of the cliff below, she looks for another way down when she finds a system of thick vines. She kneels, reaching for the closest one, finding it sturdy at the base. Something squishy sticks out from its ends; she plucks it, grasping a small grape between her fingers.
Popping it in her mouth, she bites down. Her lips pucker from the concentrated sweetness and tinge of bitterness.Wine grapes.But if the plants are as old as the vines feel, then they should hold her.
With her back to the sea, she fits herself between the metal bars of the balcony and crouches down. Keeping a hand tight on one of the bars, she dangles her feet over the edge, searching blindly for footholds. It’s not long before she finds them among the thick vines. Taking great care, she pulls on the one directly below, making certain it’ll hold her.
She releases her grip on the balcony.
Luckily, the vines hold the entire way down to the path, with plenty of natural footings along the way. Even if it hadn’t been this easy, she would’ve found a way. The Faithless put her through far more difficult tasks in her training.
Once her feet land on the path, she glances up at the palace. Warm firelight spills out from the other balconies, but it doesn’t look like?—
Something moves out of the corner of her eye.
Searching the palace walls, she only finds someone’s curtains billowing in the soft breeze. Although that looks like Marcus’s chamber…Stop being paranoid.
Taking in her surroundings, she wonders where this path starts.Her plans quickly overcome any curiosities, though, and she hurries down it. Just like the path to the arena, it eventually turns into carved-out stairs, leading her to the edge of the beach.
Once she reaches the sand, her feet sink in. She undoes her sandals and leaves them on the last step, walking along the shore and squishing the sand between her toes. It feels good. Liberating.
Far enough down the shore, she decides this is as good a place as any and walks into the gentle waves. The moment she touches the surf, the water laps up onto her feet, then her ankles. It’s warmer than she thought it would be, as if she’s stepped into a bath instead of the ocean.
