Page 89 of Trial of Bronze and Blood
Cato ignores her. “I need you both to understand that this”—he gestures to his arm—“changes nothing about how I should be treated for the rest of the trials. If the Phaedrans have it out for me, then my people should see them for who and what they are.”
Marcus moves to stand beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Making a point isn’t worth your life.”
“Or the fate of your kingdom,” Dru adds, staying where she is at the foot of his bed.
Cato sighs, placing his uninjured arm over his stomach.
“It won’t work for the maze, but we’ll stick together in the third and fourth trial. It’s the only sure tactic we have,” Marcus says, reiterating what he told her by the pool. “And before you say anything, it won’t make you look weak. Your people expect you to do whatever it takes to claim glory, to defeat the Imperium. And hang what the Phaedrans think—they don’t matter.”
Dru straightens. “After that display today, no one will question your authority.”
Cato retains his silence, drawing in shallow breaths as he stares down at his knees. Drops of dried blood cling to the hairs there and stick to his skin, and a splattering of it stains his tunic. It’s impossible to tell whether it’s his or his traitor opponent’s.
“I didn’t want to kill him.” He looks up at Dru, gaze hard. “That’s what I told him: that I didn’t want him to die, that I knew the Imperium was behind this, and that I would take care of his family once he was gone.”
Tears bite behind Dru’s eyes unwillingly.No wonder he looked so peaceful.
Marcus goes down on one knee at Cato’s bedside. “I’m sure he was grateful. Legatus Ambitus likely threatened his family if hedidn’tkill you.”
“An impossible situation.” Cato nods slowly.
Dru places a hand on his shin. “Now, Ambitus knows he can’t use your own people against you. As you said, that stunt merely made you a righteous king in their eyes. He’ll have to find other ways to come at you.”
“Which he undoubtedly will,” Marcus adds.
“We’ll prepare for those ways tomorrow.” Cato lays down on his bed and closes his eyes. “I’m tired.”
Both Dru and Marcus back away, bowing their heads in understanding before leaving his chambers and shutting the doors behind them.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
DRUSILLA
After finally quieting her mind from the day’s events, Dru teeters on the cusp of sleep when the distinct shattering of clay echoes from the courtyard.
Her eyes shoot open and she groans.What now?
Crawling out of bed and throwing on a light robe, she steps outside her room. Only a few torches light the courtyard this time of night, casting the rest in moon-lit obscurity. Crossing her arms over her chest, she squints into the murk—nothing appears out of the ordinary.Maybe I dreamt it.
She moves to turn back, when two figures creep along the shadows near Cato’s chambers, making their way toward the front of the palace.
“Show yourself,” she commands as she heads in their direction, voice reverberating in the quiet.
One of the figures stumbles and nearly falls, while the other barks out a laugh. Narrowing her gaze further, she’s able to see into the hoods of their cloaks and almost laughs: the bard and Cato.
Deodamnatus. She can’t call out to them again and risk waking the entire palace.They’re just being fools. Loud, clumsy fools.No doubtthe bard convinced Cato he needed to drown his pain and sorrows in wine, more than happy to join him. And though she doesn’t approve of the method, Cato deserves to mourn what happened today however he needs to.
Unfortunately for her, she can’t allow him to do it without an armed escort.
“Don’t move,” she whispers loudly at them, hoping the empty palace will carry her voice. Though that doesn’t guarantee they’ll listen to her.
Hurrying back inside her room, she shucks her nightdress, hurriedly pulls on her undergarments, and throws a tunic over her head. After haphazardly lacing up her sandals, she grabs her old wool cloak and the belt with her sheathed dagger from its place near her bed, and flies out the door.
She glances at Marcus’s door as she finishes tightening her belt and ties her cloak around her neck, wondering if she should wake him. But he distrusts the bard the same if not more than she does, and might try to stop them from going altogether.
As expected, the two men have barely made it outside the front doors by the time she catches up to them. She maintains her distance, planning to keep a watchful eye rather than join in on their commiseration.
Dru steps into the night behind them. The two guards stationed at the front of the palace move out of the shadows to stop them—Dru holds up her hands, waving them on only once Cato and the bard have passed.
