Page 102 of City of Secrets and Shadows
“Perhaps we could continue our discussion afterward,” he suggested, his voice deliberately casual. “I have some texts on Talfen cultural practices that might interest you.”
A warning flared in my mind. Getting closer to Jalend was dangerous — not just because of his status, but because of howeasily he seemed to see through me. Finding out I couldn’t read would definitely give me away and I couldn’t allow that to happen, as much as I wouldn’t have minded debating the topic with him.
“I may be occupied this evening,” I said carefully. “Extra studies.”
He accepted this with a graceful nod. “Another time, then.”
As he walked away, I caught Valeria watching us with narrowed eyes. Just what I needed — more attention from her jealous coterie. I finished my water and headed for the baths, eager to wash away the day’s exertions and return to my quarters.
The academy’s bathing chambers were mercifully quiet at this hour, most cadets having already completed their ablutions. I sank into the hot water with a grateful sigh, allowing the heat to soothe my aching muscles. The women’s section was empty save for an elderly attendant who dozed in the corner, giving me the rare luxury of solitude.
As I scrubbed away the dirt and sweat, I let my mind wander to Tarshi. He’d been there this morning when I returned from my morning swim, greeting me warmly, but things had felt tense. Even when Septimus had left for the bath house, Tarshi had seemed distant, distracted. With Septimus out of the way, I’d hoped to entice him back to my bed before trials, but my hints had simply washed over him, and he’d left soon after to visit Suura.
This wasn’t unusual — as my supposed body slave, he had freedom to move about the academy grounds on errands. But lately, his absences have grown longer and more frequent. The resistance meetings in the lower city were becoming a priority for him, and while I understood his commitment to the cause, I couldn’t help but worry. Discovery would mean execution for him and the idea of losing him was like a knife to the heart. Wehadn’t had any time alone together since our stolen moments on the journey to the city, and even though I saw him every day, I missed him greatly. I missed his strong arms around me, his quiet, caring nature, and yes, I admitted, I did miss his massive cock, and the way he made love to me.
Then there was Septimus. Since the night Marcus and I had rekindled our relationship, Septimus and he had actually seemed to be on better terms, but any attention I gave to Tarshi was another matter. The jealousy that had always simmered beneath his protective exterior now threatened to boil over at any moment. I’d caught him watching me talk with Tarshi once, his expression dark with something beyond anger — a complicated mixture of rage, longing, and disgust that made my heart ache.
I hadn’t been alone with him either, and he’d also seemed in a tense mood this morning. I couldn’t understand why. I wondered if they’d found out about Varin somehow. I hadn’t mentioned the encounter, and Marcus had left before they were awake this morning, so there wasn’t any way they could have found out. I had thought about telling them, but decided not to and I intended to swear Marcus to secrecy.
Both of them were extremely protective and would demand vengeance on Varin. As much as I understood that, I also had no intention of endangering two men I was starting to feel very deeply for. Tarshi could be executed for simply striking a noble, and Septimus… I couldn’t tell Septimus. He held himself personally responsible for my safety because of his vow to Tarus, though I knew now there was more to it than that. I couldn’t take the chance that he would blame himself. The battle in the arena where he’d thought himself unworthy to carry on, the way he’d walked in wanting an opponent to end his pain, it still tormented me.
The three men in my life were pulling me in different directions, and I was stretching thinner by the day.
I finished my bath, dried myself quickly, and dressed in the simple blue stola I preferred. As I made my way back to my quarters, the lowering sun cast long shadows across the courtyards. Most cadets would be heading to the dining hall for the evening meal, but I wasn’t hungry. The prospect of forced conversation with my classmates held little appeal.
When I entered my room, the sight that greeted me was unexpected. Marcus and Septimus sat at my small dining table, their heads bent close together over what appeared to be a map. They looked up at my entrance, their expressions shifting from concentration to something more complex.
“Finally,” Septimus said, rising from his chair. “We’ve been waiting for hours.”
“What are you doing here? Marcus, how did you get into the academy?”
Marcus stood too, a rueful smile on his face. “Your ‘slaves’ aren’t the only ones who know how to slip past guards.” He crossed the room and pulled me into an embrace, his familiar scent of leather and cedar enveloping me. “You look exhausted.”
I allowed myself to lean into him for a moment, drawing comfort from his solid presence. “Training was intense today.” Over his shoulder, I caught Septimus watching us, his jaw tight. I went to pull away from Marcus, his arm tightened around me as Septimus moved towards us.
To my surprise, Septimus slid his hand into my hair and kissed me deeply, even as I stood in Marcus’s arms. It wasn’t a long kiss, but it was thorough, and I was a little breathless when he pulled away. I took a breath, trying to get my thoughts in place again.
“Why are you both here? Has something happened?”
The glance that passed between them raised the hairs on the back of my neck.
“We found him,” Septimus said, his voice flat.
“Found who?” I asked.
Marcus guided me to the table, his hand warm against the small of my back.
“The man who killed Tarus,” Septimus said quietly. “The soldier who cut down your brother while you watched.”
My knees went weak, and I sank into a chair. For a decade, the face of that Imperial soldier had haunted my nightmares — square-jawed, a scar bisecting his left eyebrow, cold eyes that hadn’t flickered with even a moment’s hesitation as he drove his blade through my brother’s heart.
“You’re certain?” My voice sounded strange to my own ears, distant and hollow.
Marcus pushed a folded piece of parchment across the table. “See for yourself.”
I opened it with trembling fingers. Inside was a charcoal sketch of a man in an Imperial officer’s regalia. The artist had captured him in profile, but there was no mistaking that face. Older now, with grey at his temples, but unmistakably the same man.
“Where?” The single word was all I could manage.
