Page 98 of Trial of Bronze and Blood
“I still don’t trust him, obviously. Though he did have some philosophical musings I found interesting.”
“I’m sure they’re similar to the ones he’s given to me,” Cato says, yawning as he heads over from his chambers. “Something about how life is precious, and we should take pleasure in it while we can. The man has clearly never had a responsibility in his entire life.”
Dru sits back on her hands, regarding him. “Then why keep him around?”
Cato considers this. “I suppose because he lives a life I’ve dreamt about now and again.”
Dru laughs. “You want to be a bard?”
Cato places a hand over his heart. “Gods, no; despite my heritage, my singing voice is truly awful. Cats in the night sound better than me. No, I mean a life where I don’t have to answer to or for anyone. Where I can do as I please.”
Dru glances down. “That would be nice.”
Marcus’s gaze snaps to her, surprised to hear her admit it. The old Dru would’ve done anything and everything for the Faithless. There was no other life for her.
Maybe Ovi’s death changed that.
“That can’t be the only reason,” Marcus insists. “Why ask him to spy for you? Why keep him in the palace when you have no idea who he is or what his motives are?”
Cato’s nostrils flare, his gaze turning fiery. “I’m going to say this one last time, and then I won’t hear another word about him. I asked him to spy for me because no one notices the artist in the room. He can be a fly on the wall among the Imperium elite, gathering information from their loose jaws, and no one will be the wiser.”
“As for why I keep him in the palace,” Cato continues, “he’s the only one who’s been able to help me move on from my father’s death. To help me realize that being the king of Anziano won’t be the end of who I am.”
“The bard did all that for you?” Marcus wonders, wounded by the implication that all of Marcus’s own efforts have been fruitless.
Cato’s features soften. “He brings a unique perspective to the table. Besides, Jove has no reason to betray me?—”
“You’re the king,” Dru argues. “He has every reason to betray you.”
“Fine,” Cato bites out. “He reminds me of my sister.”
Ah, that makes sense.The fight leaves Marcus at the admission. It appears to do the same for Dru.
“What was she like?” she asks gently.
The king peers out the window. “Despite her duties, she was so carefree. She knew how to brush off her worries, to find the excitement in life.” He glances back. “Until my father promised her to that Imperium brute and named me heir.”
He doesn’t elaborate further. Marcus decides to drop the subject, as Cato requested. He’s never going to believe the king’s assessment of the bard’s infallibility if Cato sees him as a replacement for his sister.
Marcus clears his throat. “Did all your resting help you figure out how to win the next trial?”
Cato takes a deep, centering breath Marcus knows well.
“Well, being alive at the end is the only way to win, so yes. All I know is that each participant gets their own entrance into the maze. There’s no strategy we can adopt that allows us to face fewer riddles and therefore have a better chance of not meeting the deadly end of the traps.”
“And do we know what these traps are?” Dru wonders.
“The gamemasters are supposed to come up with those too. There are some tried-and-true snares, but they might decide to dosomething completely new this time, given the Imperium’s involvement.”
Marcus studies Cato. “If each participant has their own entrance, how can we stick together?”
He shakes his head. “We can’t.”
“So much for our plan.”
“I’d like to think we’re all smart enough to survive this one,” Dru argues.
Cato laughs. “Glad to hear you think so highly of us.”
