I don’t tell him about Antigrus asking me for mercy. As far as I’m concerned, Tiernon lost the right to any answers the day he left me.
ButIdeserve answers.
“Why did Rorrik stop the emperor from having me killed?”
Tiernon grimaces. “I don’t know. He was careful to keep his voice quiet so I couldn’t hear what he said. Why don’tyoutellmewhy Rorrik might have taken an interest in you?”
“Once again, my life has nothing to do with you.”
“If only that were true. I’ve been invested in your life since the day we met.”
“Put me down.”
“I can’t,” Tiernon says. “Your bone is currently pushed through your skin.”
Tiny dots appear in front of my eyes at the thought. I’ve been refusing to look at my ankle, as if that will make it hurt less.
“The others—”
“I’m using my power to hide the injury. No one can see how bad it is.”
He walks past the door leading to the healers’ quarters beneath the arena and I stiffen. “Where are you taking me?”
“We have our own healers’ quarters within the imperius’s quarters,” Tiernon rumbles. “Axia will meet us there.”
Tears suddenly prick my eyes. He knows I trust Axia, so he arranged for her to be the one to heal me somewhere private, away from the other gladians. It’s the kind of thing he used to do without thinking—instinctively protecting me any way he could.
I focus on the pain in my ankle instead of the pain in my heart, ruthlessly squashing the part of me that wants to savor the sight of him being the Tiernon I knew, and not the Primus who is a stranger to me.
Since the agony has turned unrelenting, and I’ve begun breathing raggedly, the distraction is more than sufficient.
Tiernon carries me through the long tunnel to the ludus and past the gladians’ barracks to an unassuming door, which he pushes open.
The room is large and rectangular—at least twice the size of the gladians’ common room. The walls are a pale blue, which perfectly complement four priceless Myrestornian rugs. Tiernon walks past plush armchairs and overstuffed sofas, which have been carefully arranged to encircle walnut coffee tables. The tables hold vases of fresh flowers, and I take a deep inhale, sucking the floral scent into my lungs.
He opens another door, and a hall stretches out in front of us. I begin counting rooms as we continue to walk toward the end of the hall. When I lose count after ten or twelve doors, my head thumps back against Tiernon’s shoulder.
His lips twitch. “I’ll give you a tour another time.” When he pushes open the next door, Axia gets to her feet.
“What hurts?”
My heart, my pride, my soul. “My ankle.”
Tiernon waves a hand, removing his power. Axia sucks in a sharp breath.
It’s never a good sign when the healers are horrified. My eyes stray toward my ankle and I force myself to stare at the wall instead.
Axia clears her throat. “This time, you’ve done significantly more damage.” Her words sound like an accusation.
“What are my options?”
“There are no options. This break will be mended, but the original bone also needs to be rebroken and healed in the right place. You can petition the emperor and ask to be given a separate challenge once you’ve healed.”
I snort. “He won’t allow it.” Bitter frustration wells up. I’ve got no choice but to limp back into the arena for the third challenge.
The healer clears her throat. “There is one way you can skip the worst of the healing.”
I push myself higher in the bed. “I’ll do it.”
