Page 27 of City of Secrets and Shadows
“Livia,” he began, then seemed to struggle for words. “I know you need to do this. I understand why. But promise me you’ll be careful.”
“I’m always careful,” I said, attempting levity.
He shook his head, not allowing the deflection. “Promise me you’ll think before you act. That you’ll remember there arepeople who…” He swallowed hard. “People who can’t bear the thought of losing you again.”
The raw emotion in his voice stripped away my defences. I stepped closer, resting my palm against his cheek. “I promise.”
For a suspended moment, we stood there, breath mingling, the air between us charged with everything unsaid. Then, with gentle deliberation, he turned his face to press a kiss into my palm — not demanding, not presuming, just a simple acknowledgment of what we had been to each other, what we might be again.
"I should let you finish packing," he said quietly, stepping back.
I nodded, unable to trust my voice. As he reached the door, I found the words I needed.
“Marcus.” He paused, looking back. “Thank you. Not just for the dagger. For everything. For finding me. For understanding.”
“Always.”
I watched him leave, half tempted to ask him to stay. I couldn’t, of course, Octavia was sharing the room with me, and with Tarshi and Septimus just next door, I felt awkward. In the ludus things were more straightforward. No one formed actual relationships and sex was just another way of unwinding from the stress and adrenaline of battle, but here... here I wasn’t sure what to do. The dagger in my pack seemed to represent everything complicated about my feelings for Marcus — his steadfast support, his subtle strength, the way he now seemed to understand my need for vengeance even while hoping I might someday let it go. Marcus had gone through a lot to follow me, to support me, he might expect me to belong only to him. Could I give Tarshi up? I didn’t think I could, but then I would have to tell Marcus about him, and although Marcus was more open to trusting the Talfen than Septimus, I didn’t know if his open mind would extend to sharing a woman with one, even if he wasa half-breed. But would I be able to give Marcus up to be with Tarshi? And where did that leave Septimus?I got ready for bed, my mind spinning, and when Octavia came back in, I pretended to be asleep when she climbed in beside me. In truth, I couldn’t calm my racing thoughts, and it was a long time before I finally drifted off to sleep.
Dawn came too quickly. Octavia helped me dress in the fine clothes we’d acquired — a simple but elegant stola in deep blue, my hair arranged in the modest style favoured by provincial nobility. The weight of the dagger Marcus had given me was reassuring against my thigh, hidden beneath my skirts.
In the main room, everyone was already awake, an air of tension pervading the small space. Septimus and Tarshi were dressed in the plain but respectable clothing of household retainers, while Marcus and Octavia wore their everyday attire.
“You look every inch the noble,” Octavia said, adjusting a strand of my hair with evident pride. “Remember everything I taught you. Back straight, chin up, but never appear haughty. Provincial nobles are expected to be somewhat impressed by the capital.”
“Speak clearly and confidently,” Marcus added. “You’re entering the trials by right of birth, not as a supplicant.”
Septimus handed me a rolled parchment. “Your family records and letter of introduction. Keep them close.”
Last was Tarshi, who simply clasped my hand briefly. “Trust your instincts,” he said quietly. “They’ve kept you alive this far.”
The moment of departure arrived too soon. Marcus and Octavia would remain at the apartment, our base of operations and safe house should anything go wrong. Septimus, Tarshi, and I would proceed to the Dragon Elite headquarters to register for the trials. We’d also decided if I made it into the academy, Octavia would join us later as my ladies maid.
At the door, she embraced me fiercely. “Remember, you’re as good as any of them,” she whispered. “Better, even.”
Marcus clasped my hand, his touch lingering. No words passed between us, but his eyes conveyed everything — belief, worry, and something deeper I wasn’t ready to name. I nodded up at him and was about to step away, when he pulled me into his arms and kissed me. It was a soft kiss, but my feelings were already on edge with nerves, and I slid my hand behind his back, pulling him down and deepening the kiss. I’d missed him, and now here I was preparing to leave him again.
When we finally broke apart, I was breathless, my heart hammering against my ribs. The room had gone silent. I could feel Tarshi’s eyes on us, but I refused to look away from Marcus’s face, memorizing every line, every shadow.
“Come back to me,” he whispered, so low only I could hear.
“I will,” I promised, though we both knew it was a promise I might not be able to keep.
Septimus cleared his throat pointedly from the doorway.
“The registration closes at midday,” he reminded us, his voice carefully neutral. “And we still have to get you to that beast.”
I stepped back, smoothing my hair with trembling hands. “Right. We should go.”
Marcus smiled at me. “Victory and honour.” The words from the arena. I smiled back, my nerves abating slightly. This was just another battle. I could do this.
“Victory and honour,” I murmured back, then I turned away and followed Tarshi and Septimus out into the morning air.
8
Iwas beginning to love mornings in the capital. The city awakened with a vibrant energy that the provinces never matched — traders setting up their stalls, food vendors calling out their specialties, the mingling scents of fresh bread and exotic spices carried on the morning breeze. Street callers had already begun their work, their practiced voices carrying above the general din: “Trials of the Dragon Elite! Witness noble blood and ancient beasts! Gates open at midday!” The announcement sent a ripple of excitement through the gathering crowds, people exchanging eager comments about which noble houses would present candidates this year.
The grand imperial boulevards gradually gave way to modest thoroughfares, the ornate architecture and marble facades transforming into the practical stone buildings of craftsmen and merchants. Eventually even these surrendered to dirt paths as we approached the southern gate, but I found myself glancing back at the awakening city with reluctance. Despite the dangers we faced, there was something about this place — the diversity of faces, the countless interactions, the sense of possibility — thatfelt almost like freedom. I even spotted a couple of half-breeds like myself, weaving their way through the increasingly crowded boulevards.
