Page 46 of Realms of Swords and Storms
"What does Marcus want?" I asked, running a hand through my tangled hair. I’ll admit, my heart leapt at the thought of seeing him. It had been at least two weeks since I’d seen him, and even then, that had been at a resistance meeting. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d actually spent time together alone, and I’d missed him.
Instead of answering, Octavia laid a dress across my bed. Not one of my usual academic robes, but something simpler—a sleeveless linen dress in a soft blue, with a plain leather belt and sandals beside it.
"What's this?" I asked, running my fingers over the light fabric.
"Marcus brought it. He thought you might want to just feel like yourself today. Said you'd need to leave through the servants' entrance though.”
Something warm unfurled in my chest, and I suddenly felt lighter. When was the last time I'd been just Livia? I couldn't remember.
"Will you help me dress?" I asked, already pulling my sleeping tunic over my head.
Octavia moved quickly, helping me into the simple dress. It felt strange against my skin after months of heavy noble robes and tight dragon leather armour—light, almost as if I were wearing nothing at all. The leather belt cinched at my waist, and my arms were left bare.
"Your hair?" Octavia asked, brush in hand.
I considered for a moment. "Just a simple braid. Nothing elaborate."
As she worked, I found myself wondering what Marcus had planned. I couldn’t wait to see him.
"There," Octavia said, tying off my braid with a leather cord. "You look lovely."
I looked at my reflection in the polished silver of my hand mirror, and for a moment, I didn't recognize the woman staring back. The girl in the mirror wasn't a noblewoman or a soldier. She was just... Livia. The blue of the dress brought out the gold flecks in my eyes, and without the weight of formal robes, I felt lighter, freer. A nervous flutter started in my stomach.
"Thank you, Octavia," I said, my voice softer than usual.
She just smiled. "Go on. Don't keep him waiting."
I took a deep breath and walked into the sitting room. He was standing by the window, gazing out at the training grounds, his back to me. He wasn't wearing his usual dusty labourer’s tunic but a clean, dark grey one that fit him well across the shoulders. He looked less like a fugitive and more like the man he might have been if our lives hadn't been torn apart.
He must have heard my soft footsteps on the rug because he turned. A slow smile spread across his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes. "There you are," he said, his voice a low rumble that did strange things to my insides. "I was beginning to think you'd decided to spend Rest Day with your books after all."
"And miss a chance to see what trouble you've planned?" I countered, my heart beating a little faster. "Never."
He closed the distance between us, his eyes drinking me in.
His gaze swept over me, from the simple braid to the hem of the dress, and a look of pure appreciation settled in his eyes. “The dress suits you.”
“Thank you for bringing it,” I said, feeling a warmth spread through my cheeks. “And for coming.”
“I missed you,” he said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I thought we could escape for a while. No resistance, no academy. Just a day in the city. What do you say?” He offered me his arm. "Shall we?"
I slipped my arm through his, the rough fabric of his tunic a familiar, comforting texture against my bare skin. "We shall," Isaid, a genuine smile blooming on my face for what felt like the first time in weeks.
Following his lead, we bypassed the grand main corridors of the academy and navigated a maze of servant's passages I'd never known existed. The air grew warmer, scented with baking bread and laundry steam. It was another world, hidden just beneath the polished surface of noble life. When Marcus pushed open a heavy, unmarked door, the bright sun and the cacophony of the city hit me all at once.
We were in a narrow alley behind the academy walls, spilling out into a bustling market street. The air was thick with the smells of roasting meat, fragrant spices, and unwashed bodies. Merchants hawked their wares, children chased each other underfoot, and the sheer, chaotic vitality of it all was overwhelming and wonderful.
Marcus kept his hand on the small of my back, guiding me through the throng. For the first time since coming to the capital, I felt anonymous. I wasn't Lady Cantius, the promising student. I wasn't the resistance fighter. I was just a woman in a simple blue dress, walking through the city with a man I cared for. The weight I carried daily seemed to lift, replaced by a giddy sense of freedom. I found myself looking at everything with new eyes, a tourist in my own life.
"So, where are you taking me, mysterious man?" I asked, leaning my head against his shoulder for a moment as we walked.
"I thought we'd wander," he said, his hand covering mine where it rested on his arm. "See the market. Maybe find that stall with the honey cakes you like."
"You remembered?" I looked up at him, surprised. We'd passed it once, months ago, and I'd only mentioned it in passing.
He gave me a sidelong glance, a teasing glint in his eye. "I remember everything you say, Livia."
The words, spoken so plainly, were more disarming than any flowery compliment from a courtier. A heat that had nothing to do with the sun bloomed across my chest. I squeezed his arm, unable to form a reply, and he simply smiled, accepting my silent answer.
