Page 164 of Shadows in Bloom

One of them, a boy he’d not seen before, bristled and took a step forward, clearly looking for a challenge.

“Oh, really? You want to fight?” Cosmo growled, and he slid aside his cape, revealing his sheathed, silvery sword. As the eldest son of the lieutenant of the Novarian army, Astor and he had practically grown up, side by side, in the army’s arena. He knew what his best friend was capable of, and that was more than an infuriatingly sharp tongue. Cosmo had the strength to back it up with actual fighting skills and had a reputation back home. A reputation he had guaranteed here at the Academy last year, in the illegal fighting pit.

The Gaetan hesitated, eyes flicking between the three of them. Tipping up his chin, he sneered, “I can see the way you look at us.”

Cosmo let out an amused huff. “Oh, yeah? And how’s that?” His fingers crawled down to his sheath, slowly enough for the others to see.

The Gaetan snorted. “Oh, please, like you wouldn’t know. You hate us.”

This time, Cosmo pivoted his entire frame toward the Gaetans, who crept up behind their hero. “That’s right,” he growled, voice lowered to a barely-whisper. “We hate every little thing about you.” The Gaetan took a step forward and Cosmo followed suit, closing the gap between them dramatically and rapidly. “You took from us. And we don’t like people who take without asking nicely.” He jabbed his finger against the Gaetan’s chest.

“Novitiates.” The herald exclaimed as he approached, his long, sad face drawn into condemnation. “You are to retreat back to your quarters immediately.”

Astor captured Cosmo’s shoulder and pulled him back. “He’s right, Lyssipos. Come. We can all use a bath.”

They turned around, to find the other three Damaryans had left.

During the heat of the moment, when the truth had peaked out between the invisible layer of illusion that the future could erase sorrow from the past, they had quietly taken off.

And left the unfortunate boy here, alone, with them.

“Melas.” Astor crooked his finger to where his slave had been waiting in perfect obedience. “I’m leaving,” he told Oreon. “I need a decent wash. Keep an eye on Cosmo and his claimed one. We need the boy back in one piece, remember.”

“Certainly,” Oreon jutted his chin toward where the Akotans had stood before. “Clara wishes to meet with us,” he said. “She proposed tonight, but perhaps it’s too early?”

Astor looked at Cosmo, who had slung an arm around the boy’s tense shoulders and guided him toward the exit, followed narrowly by his two female slaves.

“No, tonight’s perfect. We’ll meet in his room.”

Oreon’s lips twitched, and a knowing look appeared in his eyes as he touched his temples with his fingertips. “D’acc.”

Astor caught up with Cosmo on their way back to their wing. To his credit, the Damaryan walked with his head held high as they made their way toward the Novarian wing. Passing the inner gardens of the estate that looked pristine in their glory of blooming flowers and lush plants, the other novitiates didn’t hide their curiosity as they threw glances at them.

They brought the Damaryan inside their quarters, onto the terracotta tiled flooring of their shared terrace with its spectacular view of the innerer courtyard and the library.

“I want to know what it’s like to come from a country of traitors,” one of the first-years said.

“The battle of Ravenna killed my father and brothers,” another novitiate snarled.

“Look at him just standing there.” Scilla, Oreon’s older sister, pushed the Damaryan in his back, and the boy leaped forward with a gasp. “Really? You’re just going to stand there and not say anything?” She threw up her hands in the air.

“Scilla—” Oreon warned.

“Don’t worry, he will make some noise soon enough, won’t you, Tydon?” Cosmo purred, laughing when the Damaryan bristled.

“One piece,” Astor warned. “That’s what you promised me. Alright.” He clapped in his hands. “Everyone, get freshened up. We’ll have the Akotan delegation coming over tonight. In your room,” he added, wiggling his brows at his friend, who rolled his eyes in return. He took a few steps toward his own rooms, then stopped and turned over his shoulder. “Oh, and, whatever you name is—” The Damaryan’s eyes flickered when he looked up to meet his, but otherwise stayed quiet. Astor gave him an amused grin. “You don’t want to talk? Suit yourself. But a friendly warning. My friend here has quite the reputation.”

To his surprise, Fabiano was already waiting in his rooms. His brother sat in one of his chaise longue in another pristine white robe. A glass of wine dangled from his hand.

“Frater. You did well today,” he said in his warm, hypnotic voice. “Iteres Novares.”

“Thank you,” replied Astor, and he tipped his temples in gratitude. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” his brother lied, a flawless smile on his lips. “I’m just a little tired. It was a long day.”

Astor nodded, feeling himself only half guilty for not being able to have spent more time with Fabiano.

“I hope you don’t mind me having asked your slave to get me some refreshments?” Fabiano looked over the rim of his cup as he took another drink. In the corner, Melas stood, his enticing garment gushed over his delicate body, the material only slightly disarrayed. He wondered when the slave had left his shadow. He tipped his head toward the bathroom.

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