Page 121 of City of Secrets and Shadows
“One of the things you what?” she prompted.
“Love about you,” I finished, the admission feeling both terrifying and inevitable. “I love you, Livia. I’ve loved you since we were children. Before I even understood what that meant.”
The words hung in the air between us, heavy with thirteen years of unspoken feeling. I’d never said them before, not like this. Not with their full weight and meaning.
“I know,” she said softly. “I’ve always known.”
Of course she had. We knew each other too well for such secrets. But knowing and acknowledging were different things.
“I don’t expect anything from you,” I hurried to add. “I know you care for Marcus, and for—” I couldn’t bring myself to say Tarshi’s name. “I know your heart is divided. I just needed you to hear it, especially after tonight. Life is too uncertain for unspoken truths.”
Even as I said it, the irony of my words wasn’t lost on me. Here I was, preaching honesty while hiding my darkest secret. Professing love while harbouring thoughts that would wound her if she knew. But perhaps some truths were better left unspoken. Perhaps some burdens were meant to be carried alone.
She stepped closer, placing her palm against my cheek. “Septimus. Look at me.”
I raised my eyes to hers, bracing myself for pity or gentle rejection.
“I love you too,” she said, her voice steady and certain. “Not as the child I was, or as Tarus’s sister, but as the woman I’ve become. The woman who has survived because you were always there, always fighting for me, even when I didn’t think I deserved it.”
Something broke open inside me — a dam that had held back emotions for so long they’d nearly drowned me. I pulled her to me roughly, burying my face in her hair, inhaling the scent of her that had become as familiar as my own.
“Then why do you shut me out?” I whispered against her temple. “Why do you take these risks alone when I would die to keep you safe?”
“Because I couldn’t bear it if you did,” she answered, her arms tightening around me. “Die for me, I mean. Too many people have already sacrificed themselves in my name. I won’t add you to that list.”
“It’s not your choice,” I said, drawing back to look at her. “It never has been. From the moment your brother made me promise to protect you, my life has been bound to yours. Not because of the promise — though the Gods know I’ve clung to that as my purpose — but because somewhere along the way, I realized I couldn’t imagine a world without you in it.”
Tears glistened in her eyes, and she brushed them away impatiently. “Now you sound like Marcus.”
“Maybe he and I aren’t so different after all.” The admission cost me something, but it was worth it to see the surprise in her face. “We both love you. We both want you safe.”
“And what about what I want?” she challenged, though her tone was gentle. “To be wrapped in silk and protected like some precious relic? To abandon my quest for justice because it might put me in danger?”
“No,” I said, taking her face in my hands. “I want you to be exactly who you are. Fierce. Unstoppable. The woman who survived the ludus and the arena. The woman who rides a dragon and infiltrates the academy. But I want you to live, Livia. I want you to survive this vendetta and find something beyond it. Something worth living for, not just dying for.”
She was quiet for a long moment, her eyes searching mine. “What if I don’t know how to do that anymore? What if vengeance is all I am?”
“Then I’ll help you remember. We all will — me, Marcus, Tarshi, Octavia. We’ll remind you of all the things you are besides an avenger.” I brushed a strand of damp hair from her face. “You’re a friend, a lover, a gladiator, a dragon rider. You’re the girl who used to collect wildflowers by the river. The warrior who never leaves a comrade behind. You contain multitudes, Livia. Don’t let the Emperor take that from you too.”
A tear slipped down her cheek, and I caught it with my thumb. “When did you get so wise?” she asked, with a shaky laugh.
“I’m not wise. I’m terrified.” I pressed my forehead to hers. “Terrified of losing you to this obsession. Of watching you sacrifice yourself for a moment of vengeance that won’t bring back any of the people we’ve lost.”
“What if it’s not just about vengeance anymore?” she whispered. “What if it’s about making sure no other village burns? No other brother dies protecting his sister? No other children are sold into slavery because they had the misfortune of being born in the wrong place?”
I pulled back, studying her face. This was new — a shift in her thinking I hadn’t anticipated. “Then it’s even more important that you survive to see it through. One assassination isn’t a revolution, Livia. It’s just the beginning. And beginnings need leaders.”
She shook her head. “I’m no leader. I’m a weapon, forged in blood and pain.”
“You’re whatever you choose to be,” I insisted. “That’s what freedom means. The choice to define yourself.”
The irony of my words wasn’t lost on me. Here I was, preaching about self-definition while hiding the truth of my own confused desires. Telling her she could choose her identity while I struggled with mine. But perhaps that was the point — we were all struggling to become something beyond what circumstances had made of us.
Livia sighed, leaning against me. The fight seemed to drain out of her, leaving only exhaustion in its wake. “I’m so tired, Septimus. Tired of fighting. Tired of hating. Tired of sacrificing pieces of myself to survive.”
I held her tighter, feeling the fragility beneath her strength. “Then rest. Just for tonight. Let me keep watch.”
She nodded against my chest, allowing me to guide her to the bed. I helped her out of her boots and outer clothes, then laybeside her, pulling the blanket over us both. She curled against me, her body fitting perfectly against mine as it always had.
