Maeva takes my arm, dragging me backward. One look at the emperor, and I can see why.
His cheeks are flushed, his eyes cold. Whispers break out, and people begin to scramble away from the body, as if death is contagious. From the fury written across every inch of the emperor’s face, it is.
I allow Maeva to yank me farther away. Vampires have notoriously poor impulse control. If the emperor’s temper snaps, anyone close to him could easily become nothing more than a steaming pile of flesh.
Maeva leans against the wall, her face gray. “He—he went missing on the first day. We all thought he had decided to run,” she whispers.
That should have been their first clue. This place is incredibly well-guarded.
Whoever is responsible couldn’t have dragged the body through this place without being caught. Which means they know about the hidden rooms and corridors.
My mind goes to Jorah. But I dismiss the idea. He seemed terrified of the emperor. Besides, he admitted he only has access to half of the ludus, and the tunnels have been here since the arena was first formed. At least a handful of people must have learned its secrets over the years.
I can think of only one reason to reveal the body at this exact time.
It’s a way to embarrass the emperor. And from the way he points to one of the sigilkeepers, who incinerates the body instantly …
It worked.
CHAPTER NINE
It’s weeks before I see Ti again. I keep returning to my tree, which has somehow becomeourtree. And my chest aches each time I stare up at its empty branches.
Kassia knows about the noble boy but refuses to meet him.
“He sounds mean,” she says.
Heismean sometimes. But so am I.
And beneath the mean, I think he’s sad.
So am I.
I’ve decided this will be my last visit to the oak I love so much. I don’t know if Ti is punishing me, or if he hates me now.
He shouldn’t have tried to stop me leaving.
I shouldn’t have hit him.
He shouldn’t have been rude in the first place.
I’m a confusing mass of emotion.
When I find him sitting up in one of the highest branches of the tree—where even I’m too scared to climb—something settles deep in my chest.
He ignores me as I climb up, settling several branches below him. We sit in silence for a long time.
Finally, when I glance up at him, I find him watching me.
“I’m sorry for hitting you,” I say.
His jaw tightens, but he nods. “I’m sorry for grabbing you.”
“You can’t tell me what to do,” I explain carefully. “I may not be a noble, but I’m a person too.”
His gaze lingers on my sigil. We never talk about the blank space on his own forehead. I don’t understand how he could be a noble and not have a sigil.
Finally, he sighs. “I’m sorry too. I don’t want you to leave. You’re the only person I can talk to.”
