Page 91 of Trial of Bronze and Blood
They found this tabernae on the outskirts of town, close to the sea and farther from the palace than she would’ve liked. But the clientele—mostly Durevolian, it appears—keep to themselves, and the lanterns glow dim enough that Dru can barely see her companions seated at the same table. No one should recognize them.
When they came in, they immediately found a corner to sit in soCato could keep himself well-hidden. His guards sat on the opposite side of the room, hands on the hilts of their swords.
After Dru went up to order their drinks, the bard took the opening to dominate the conversation. He told story after story of his exploits throughout the Imperium. Most of them don’t seem plausible, but at least Cato was thoroughly distracted.
Now, with only the last sips of their drinks left, the bard turns to Dru.
“You haven’t spoken a word all night, and I won’t have it. You must tell us something interesting about yourself.”
She sits back. “Or what?”
“Or, I’ll refuse to leave this spot until you do.”
Cato straightens. “And I.”
Stellae. She’ll have to choose the lesser of two evils. Thinking of something innocuous to say, she beckons them closer. Both men lean in, ensuring they don’t miss this grand secret.
“When I was little, I used to run through the streets of my village naked.”
The bard rolls her eyes. “We all did that. Try again.”
“I didn’t do that,” Cato complains.
The bard places a hand over his chest. “That’s because you were a prince and weren’t allowed to participate in such vulgar activities.”
Cato pouts out his lower lip. “I should’ve been.”
The bard lifts his cup. “Agreed.”
Dru sighs.I need to give them something juicy that’s vague enough to get them off this topic.It’s likely they’ll forget it by morning anyway. She peers around her first, ensuring no one’s close by, then lowers her voice.
“Okay, but you can’t tell anyone, especially Marcus.”
They nod emphatically.
“When I joined the Faithless, Marcus was the first person to greet me. I immediately fell in love with him—as much as you can at that age—and was so distracted by his good looks, I tripped on my own feet and fell face-first intothe mud.”
The two men howl with laughter. Dru sits back, satisfied. She could’ve told a lie and it wouldn’t have made any difference. But she doesn’t feel the need to lie to either of them. And despite her distrust for the bard, he’s been a good friend to Cato tonight.
Likely more than just tonight.
The bard was under no obligation to befriend Cato, yet he has. And his lack of duties—besides the spying—has allowed him to be there for Cato more often than her or Marcus. Despite the lingering suspicions of his of his motives, she’s grateful to him.
“Now I get to ask a question,” Dru starts. “What made you think it was a good idea to sneak out tonight, right after you were nearly murdered by one of your own people?”
“Futuere,” the bard swears, throwing his hands up.
Before Dru can retaliate, Cato puts his hand out.
“No, I’m glad she asked.” He regards her. “You and Marcus both have trouble understanding that not everyone grieves the same. You might think me out of my mind for coming here; that I’m too unconcerned for my own life after having just survived an assassination attempt. But this is how I grieve.”
He leans in. “Also, I never wanted to be king.”
“What?” Her voice comes out far too loud, and she glances around, finding no one paying them any mind. “What do you mean?”
“My sister—she was the oldest. She should’ve been queen.” He shakes his head. “My father, however, thought she’d be more useful in a marriage bargain with some powerful senator in the Imperium. To form an alliance between our two countries that way. Until the last few months before her death, though,shewas the one being groomed to take over the crown. Not me.”
Dru stiffens. She’s feared this entire night that Cato would divulge something he shouldn’t. He’s already said too much for her taste.
