“I expected more from you.” I spun on my heels and stomped off to my room.
Chapter Thirty
“And the three houses shall be thus: One of Avus, to represent the freedom of Sanctuary. One of Lynx, to represent the fierceness of the Verdunn. And One of Viper, to represent the danger of straying from the Path.”
-Decree of the Geist; 1 Genesis Age
When I opened my bedroom door the morning after Dante’s birthday party, Bria waited on the other side. Her long hair pulled back in her standard sleek braid, her hands folded delicately in front of her, a placid smile on her face. I sighed and turned away but left the door open between us.
“If he’s sent you to make peace with me—”
“You’ve forgotten your Trial is today?” Bria asked, raising a brow.
I straightened and faced her again. “Nearly being killed has affected my memory, apparently.”
I made my bed, despite how many times everyone in the family had informed me that the servants would do it. I still wasn’t used to being waited on.
“Besides, I assumed after our discovery last night that Dante would wish to push the eighth Trial back until we’ve mastered our newest blessing.”
“It seems you’ve convinced him that it can be called upon as needed,” Bria replied serenely, unruffled by my agitation. “But if you would prefer for me to tell Cosmo that you’re not in the proper mindset to—”
“No,” I snapped. Opening a drawer, I rummaged for the Trial uniform Myrine had commissioned for us.
“Adrian, you only get one chance at each Trial,” Bria reminded me gently. “If you’re too angry or if you and Dante aren’t in the right condition to be true partners in this—”
“I’m fine.” I pulled off my t-shirt, and Bria turned away, ever the pious acolyte.
“I will inform the family.” She exited my room, shutting the door behind her.
I dressed quickly, then paused to examine my reflection. I hardly recognized the woman staring back at me. Thin, malnourished limbs had turned muscled and toned. Bloated, starving stomach had flattened and smoothed. My hands were rough and calloused from weight training. My legs were lean from swimming. My hair was longer, softer from the soaps of the First Ring. At least my amber eyes were the same. Still, my outfit was made of the finest material available in Sanctuary, and the ring on my finger glistened in the morning light. I twisted it back and forth, itching to remove it.
Maybe Warren was right. Maybe I had become one of them.
At least I could convince myself I was. Until one of them tried to kill me and the rest of them flew to her defense. I clenched my fists at my sides, trying to fight off the glaring question of whether they would have come to my defense if it had been me who’d tried to kill Olympia instead. But Dahlia’s punishment seemed to tell me the answer already.
Are you coming?
I pushed Dante out of my mind and headed for the door.
The whole family waited in the foyer. Dante was speaking to his mother and grandfather in hushed tones near the door. They all looked up at me when I appeared. Bria hovered at the bottom of the stairs, offering a warm smile. She wished me luck as always. She wouldn’t come with us to the tunnels. She never did.
The little kids of her class were gathered behind her. They stared in open mouthed awe as I passed. I’d gotten used to that, the way they looked at me, the way everyone looked at me. As if I were some sort of marvel, some god walking among them. Little did they know, I was just an average poor girl way out of her element and just as surprised as the rest of them by my success.
“Are you ready?” Dante asked when I approached.
I nodded, and the servants opened the doors.
Dante and I walked side by side through the gates of House Viper and toward the stairs.
It seemed as though the entire First Ring was out to watch our descent. They lined the street, gaping in a dignified manner as we passed. The Second Ring was much of the same, though slightly less dignified. My family’s home boasted handmade banners, and my mother and brothers waved, smiling, from the gate. I nodded to them as I passed but glanced quickly away, still feeling guilty for having refused to tell them of my engagement in person.
The Third Ring was much livelier than the first two. People cheered for us, screaming our names and wishing us well while waving banners and flags they’d made from various scraps of cloth. Harrison and his bandmates were the loudest, decked out head to toe in some bastardized tone of House Viper green, so vibrant it nearly hurt my eyes. I smiled broadly at them and nodded back to Sophie who’d nodded serenely at me from under Graham’s arm. Children sat atop their fathers’ shoulders for abetter view, women craned their necks from their porches, men laughed and clapped, hooting as we passed.
I’d thought being waited on by servants in the First Ring was the strangest experience of my life. Finding success in the Trials had been even stranger still. But this? There was something about the oddity of being paraded through the center of Sanctuary, following the most direct route to the eighth Trial and finding it littered with people who simply wanted a glimpse of us, their heroes. Being someone’s hero was never something I’d anticipated. Darius had, though.
Darius would have loved this.
I turned away, jaw clenching, and kept my focus on the task ahead. I couldn’t risk getting emotional. No matter what was happening with the people of Sanctuary, I had a task to complete, a Trial to win. And the second Trial had taught me that getting bogged down by the past, getting lost in my own emotions, would do me no favors.
