Page 79 of Trial of Bronze and Blood
“I’m not worried about Marcus and I,” she admits. “We’ve been trained on every possible skill since we were children. You haven’t.”
He grins. “Fear not—I have a handy trick up my sleeve.”
“Unless you have another dragon hidden beneath your robes…”
Cato gets to his feet and places his hands behind his back. “People often wonder why my family has remained in power since the inception of the monarchy, whether we ruled with fear or benevolence. But all we’ve done has been for the Durevolian people, with every weapon in our arsenal. Including the magic in our blood.”
She blinks at him. “Magic?”
He nods. “I should have told you this before, given your purpose here. However, I’ll do so now.”
Placing a ringed hand on his chest, he breathes in slowly, purposefully. When he breathes out again, a deep hum emanates from his throat, filling the room. His throat vibrates faster than a hummingbird’s wings, so subtle she might’ve missed it if she wasn’t looking at him.
As his voice deepens, the lanterns on her walls begin to quiver on their hooks, her bed shifting slightly away from the wall, the curtains over the balcony trembling. It reminds her of how the earth quaked beneath her during the Tredici ritual last night.
Dru’s mouth drops open. “You have humming magic?”
The humming stops, and her room settles again. “I do.”
Stellae, how did I miss that?
“How have I not noticed it before now?”
He chuckles. “It’s nearly impossible to tell when a person is using it, except for the intonations from the throat and the effect it has on the elements around us.”
“The elements?”
He nods. “Those who are skilled enough at it can shake the ground, wield water, even create sparks from nothing. The same way the earth moving beneath us causes quakes and the wind blowing can rip trees from their roots, we disrupt the natural order around us and bend it to our will.”
“How?” she breathes.
He smiles. “You should ask the Tredici that.”
She cocks her head to the side. “Yes, I thought only the Tredici can wield it.”
“All the rulers of Anziano can as well. It’s our gods-given strength.”
When words evade her, he takes her hands again.
“The point of showing you that is, I don’t want you to worry about me when we’re out there. Though I don’t look it, I can hold my own.”
You certainly can.
“But isn’t that what I’m here for? Tohelpyou hold your own?”
He sobers. “We both know you being in Anziano isn’t my doing.”
Her heart stutters inside her chest at his meaning.
Swallowing, she asks him something she’s been wanting to from the moment she got there: “What has Marcus been doing the last six years?”
“I’ve been wondering when you were going to ask me that.” He perches on the clothes trunk at the foot of her bed. “Once he showed me the orders given to him by the Faithless, I placed him as the praetor and head of my king’s guard. Per the treaty with the Imperium, Anziano isn’t allowed to have soldiers, so it was the best I could do. Nonetheless, he threw himself into the work; the guard grew to what it is today under his watch.”
But what has he beenlike?She wants to ask it, but she’s too afraid of what his answer will be.
“We should eat,” she says, getting to her feet, “get your strength up before the trial.”
Something like disappointment mars his brow. “As you command.”
