If I was alone, I would be crawling out of my skin. Tiernon’s looming presence helps calm the worst of my nerves. If anything attacks, I’ll leave him to it and run like hell.
That kiss … I know what that kiss was.
It was a goodbye. Bitterness coats my mouth. At least this time, I know the goodbye is coming. At least it won’t be a shock, an ache that never leaves me. At least I won’t delude myself into imagining it’s just temporary, and that I’ll see him again.
Perhaps, a few times a year, Tiernon will relive that kiss and think of me. But he’ll still move on, with his friends and his life and his role asPrimusfor the same emperor responsible for so much agony for so many people.
Telling him everything that happened to me has made me relive those dark days. And reliving them has relit the fires of my rage.
Silence stretches between us.
We used to spend hours in silence. Content silence. Comfortable silence. The kind of silence two people have when they don’t need to share their thoughts, because the other person knows them down to the bone.
At least I’d thought we had that.
“I didn’t want to leave you,” Tiernon says as he stops suddenly a few steps in front of me.
I let his words hang in the air for a long moment. “Then why did you?”
No reply.
My laugh is saturated with hurt. “Forget it.”
He makes a rough, impatient sound, and I’m suddenly sure this is it. He’s going to apologize. Tell me why he left. Give mesomething.
Instead, he sighs, stepping forward into the dim light and pressing some hidden contraption within the wall.
Disappointment wars with fury. I lean into the fury, stalking past him and out into cool, crisp air so soon after sunset.
The chill feels good against my flushed, overheated skin. I gulp it into my lungs and turn, avoiding Tiernon’s eyes as he leads me onto the street.
The world feels suddenly too big, after so long within either the ludus or the arena. Even when we traveled to the imperial palace, we used underground tunnels.
Unlike the Thorn, there are no insulae here in this part of the city. The wealthy would never dream of living in apartments, and I can’t help but gawk as we walk past sprawling estates, large domus, and gated villas.
That’s what wealth truly gives you. Space.
“Are these the emperor’s houses?” I ask.
Tiernon shakes his head. “They’re mostly owned by the Vampire Council and Sigilmarked Syndicate and their relatives.”
“It’s so quiet around here.” That’s another thing wealth gives you. Peace.
“We’re lucky. Many of the guards who usually patrol this area were called to the assembly. Tiberius Cotta is trying to sway the sigilkeepers to vote for his reforms.”
Tiberius’s face appears in my mind, his eyes crinkled as he talked about growing up in the Thorn. One day, I hope I’ll get the opportunity to thank him for the parma that saved my life in the arena. “What kind of reforms?”
Tiernon gives me a look, but I narrow my eyes at him. Right now, I’ll take any distraction I can get.
“He’s attempting to gain support for mundanes. He wants them to have the right to vote.”
I gape at him. Years ago—long before my mother was born—every citizen of the empire had the right to vote. Then, without warning, it was taken away. That’s the thing about rights—you don’t realize you’ve taken them for granted until one day, you wake up, and they’re no longer a right. They’re a privilege reserved for other people.
“Do you think it will happen?”
His wide shoulders roll in a dismissive shrug. “The SigilmarkedSyndicate and Vampire Council are supposed to represent the interests of the people—including mundanes. I doubt they’ll support Cotta’s attempt to reduce their power in any shape or form. Besides, the emperor took the vote from mundanes as a punishment for their attempted uprising. It’s unlikely he’ll return that right, even if the Syndicate vote to bring the bill to his attention.”
He’s right. Tiberius’s reforms are likely mostly performative. And yet, for the first time, I feel a hint of hope for this empire. It helps to know that people like Tiberius Cotta are fighting for a better, fairer existence for the most powerless among us. Even if I won’t be here to see it.
