Page 48 of Realms of Swords and Storms
I took a deep breath, unsure where to begin. "Things at the Academy have been... complicated." I traced the rim of my cup with my fingertip, gathering courage. "There's a nobleman there, Jalend Northreach. He's been... interested in me."
Marcus's expression remained carefully neutral, though I noticed his fingers tighten slightly around his cup. "Interested?"
"We kissed," I admitted, heat rising to my cheeks. "Yesterday, in the stables. It went further than that, almost..." I looked away, unable to meet his eyes. "I stopped it before—but only just."
I risked a glance at him, expecting anger or hurt, but his face showed only thoughtful concern.
"Do you have feelings for him?" he asked quietly.
The directness of the question caught me off guard. "I—I don't know. Maybe. He's different from the other nobles. Thoughtful. Kind in ways I didn't expect." I reached across the table, desperately needing to touch him, to maintain our connection. "But it doesn't change how I feel about you, Marcus. You know that, don't you?"
He caught my hand, his fingers interlacing with mine. "I know." His thumb stroked over my knuckles in a gentle caress. "We agreed from the beginning that your heart wasn't exclusively mine to claim, Liv. I've always understood that."
Relief washed through me, though a knot of tension remained. "There's more."
His eyebrows rose slightly. "More than a noble suitor? You've been busy."
I couldn't help a small laugh at his dry tone. "It's Tarshi."
Now his expression did change, surprise flickering across his features. "Tarshi? You mean... you and Tarshi?"
I nodded, watching him carefully. "For some time now. Since before we left the ludus, actually." I hesitated, then added, "I thought you might have suspected."
Marcus released my hand, leaning back in his chair. He ran a hand through his hair, processing this revelation. "I knew you cared for him, but I didn't realize it had become... physical."
"Are you angry?" I asked, suddenly afraid I'd miscalculated badly.
He was quiet for a long moment, his gaze fixed somewhere over my shoulder. Then he sighed, his eyes returning to mine. "No. Not angry. Surprised, certainly." A hint of a wry smile touched his lips. "Though perhaps I shouldn't be."
"You're not... disgusted?" I pressed, needing to know. "He's Talfen. Half-Talfen, at least."
Marcus's expression softened. "Is that what worries you? That I'd judge you for being with someone of Talfen blood?"
I nodded, ashamed to admit how much I'd feared his reaction. The Empire's propaganda ran deep, even in those who knew better.
"Livia," he said gently, reaching for my hand again. "Since joining the resistance, I've met more Talfen and half-bloods than I can count. They laugh, they love, they bleed just like anyone else." His grip tightened. "They're not the demons the Emperor would have us believe. They're just people."
I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes, overwhelmed by his understanding. "Tarshi is a good man," I whispered. "He loves me. He's devoted to me."
"I can see that," Marcus agreed. "He'd die for you without hesitation." A slight smile tugged at his mouth. "Though I admit, it explains why he watches me like a hawk whenever I'm near you."
I laughed softly, wiping away a stray tear. "He's... protective."
"As he should be." Marcus paused, his expression growing more serious. "Does Septimus know?"
I shook my head. "I don't think so. And I'm afraid of how he'll react when he finds out." I'd seen how Septimus looked at Tarshi, the naked hatred in his eyes. "He still sees the Talfen as the enemy."
"Give him time," Marcus advised. "He's carrying more wounds than most."
The weight of another secret pressed against my chest – Sirrax, his true nature, our bond that went deeper than rider and dragon. I opened my mouth to speak, then closed it again. One revelation at a time. Marcus had accepted so much already; I couldn't bear to test his understanding further today.
He noticed my hesitation. "There's something else, isn't there?"
"Nothing that can't wait for another day," I said, forcing a smile. "You've been extraordinarily understanding already."
He studied me for a moment, then nodded, not pressing further. Instead, he refilled our wine cups, his movements deliberate and measured. When he looked up at me again, there was a different heat in his eyes, one that made my skin tingle with awareness.
"I had planned to take you to the theatre this afternoon," he said, his voice dropping to a lower register that sent a shiver down my spine. "There's a traveling company performing 'The Fall of Ardentia.' I thought you might enjoy it."
