Page 44 of Once a Villain
Cassius interrupted her thoughts: “The humans loved him, of course.The Wolf will save us,” he said mockingly. “Aaron put paid to that.”
Joan swallowed hard. Beside her, Nick’s jaw was so tight so could practically hear his teeth grinding.
“Pity you didn’t kill him on Argent territory,” Cassius added to Aaron. “We have a trophy room—we’d have displayed him in there instead of on the turrets.” He gave Aaron a cheekily irritated look. “Waste of an excellent specimen—we could have immortalized him.”
Aaron’s shoulders lifted, and Joan knew he was very aware of Nick—alive and well, and dangerous—at his back.
Joan felt sick. Beside her, Nick’s eyes were fixed on Cassius. How old had his counterpart been, she wondered, when Edmundhad forced him into life-or-death fights for the entertainment of the city? How many years had he been in the arena before he’d escaped?
Cassius drove the conversation for the next hour after that, opining on how he didn’t think the wolves would amount to much after the death of their leader. “The Wolf himself was the instigator,” he said. “The rest of them were just a loose collection of followers.” He added to Aaron, “At least the Argent gladiators will give the Olivers a run for their money now. Without Ward in the arena, you only have the Bull. The rest of your team’s looking pretty weak....”
“Indeed.” Aaron managed a tight smile. He wanted this to be over as much as Joan and Nick did.
Whatever he said in response, though, Joan didn’t hear, because all the sound in the room ceased. A thrill of fear ran through her, but it only lasted a moment before the chatter and clatter of cutlery on plates were back. She squeezed her eyes shut. She really couldn’t have a fade-out here, where she couldn’t even speak without putting herself in danger.
She felt Nick’s eyes turn to her. He frowned slightly as if he’d registered something was wrong.
“They’re saying the Jubilee Games will be the biggest and bloodiest spectacle ever held in the arena,” Cassius said. “But, of course, all anyone wants to see is the Queen herself.”
Nick’s head lifted at that, and Joan met his dark gaze.More, she gestured to Ruth in a quick surreptitious hand movement.
What do you take me for?Ruth’s expression said. She turned to Cassius. “The Queen is appearing at the jubilee?”
Cassius laughed, as if Ruth had to be joking.
“No, sheisquite dim,” Aaron said. “She’s actually asking.”
“Aaron!” Marguerite said. Aaron had turned, and Joan couldn’t see his expression. From Ruth’s shift from irritation to smug amusement, he must have looked chastened.
“She always appears on the day of her jubilee,” Cassius said to Ruth. “She records a message for us all.”
“She won’t be there in person?” Ruth said. She couldn’t keep the disappointment from her voice.
“She’s neveranywherein person. And tickets to the arena have been sold out for years. If you want to get in, you’ll have to cozy up to a head of family like Aaron or me. We’ll have a whole stand each....”
His voice dipped away again as he spoke. To Joan’s horror, another fade-out was hitting her—worse than in the rainstorm last night. Her vision dimmed, and she could barely hear the room.Be calm, she told herself, over her rising panic. She wanted to tell Aaron what was happening, but she couldn’t move her lips, her mouth.
She concentrated on all she had left. The feeling of air in her throat; the rise and fall of her chest.
What if she stopped breathing, like she had at the Serpentine? What if this time, she couldn’t get out of it?
Panic rose in her throat, but slowly—horribly slowly—the room brightened again. Joan took another breath, picking out details around her. The pelican carvings at the ceiling corners. The uneven stone tiles. The way the table rocked slightly when Ruth leaned on it. The flecks of mud on Aaron’s shoes.
Cassius wasstillspeaking. “The Griffiths have some talented gladiators this year too, I believe. If I weren’t an Argent, I’d put money on them. What about you? Who’s your pick for the win?”
Aaron didn’t respond. With a jolt, Joan realized that he’d turned his gaze toher.
“Aaron?” Cassius said.
Aaron ignored him. He tore a piece from his bread roll, buttered it generously, and passed it to Joan. How had Aaron registered that fade-out? Joan was sure she hadn’t moved, hadn’t made a sound.
Joan could feel everyone’s gaze—Ruth’s confused, and Nick’s worried. She took the bread; she was terrified of her senses failing again. She bit and chewed, and the world blessedly shifted back into place, the floor becoming solid under her feet again.
“So indulgent,” Cassius said, eyebrows rising. “Feeding her from your own plate.” He gave Joan an assessing look; he’d barely noticed her up until this moment, but now his gaze moved leisurely up and down her body in a way that made Joan’s skin crawl. She felt Nick shift beside her, tension suffusing him.
A muscle jumped in Aaron’s jaw. Rather than keep everyone’s attention on Joan, though, he forced a smile and lifted his glass. “Shall we toast to Her Majesty?”
To Joan’s relief, Cassius was instantly distracted. “Oh, we need to toast properly!” He snapped his fingers at one of the servers, a woman of about twenty, beckoning her over.
