Page 16 of City of Secrets and Shadows (Empire of Vengeance #2)

16

I woke to cold sheets beside me, Septimus already gone. A pang of disappointment mingled with relief — his absence spared me the awkward morning-after conversation neither of us was prepared for. The ghost of his touch lingered on my skin, awakening sensations I’d thought long buried beneath layers of revenge and ambition.

I stretched, feeling the pleasant ache in my muscles — evidence of our night together. Septimus had unlocked something in me, something primal and dark that both frightened and exhilarated me. Unlike my gentler encounters with Marcus or the tender exploration with Tarshi, with Septimus I’d found a matching ferocity, a mirror to my own barely contained rage.

It complicated everything. I’d spent years seeing him as my protector, my soldier — never allowing myself to acknowledge the heat that flared between us. Now that line had been crossed, I doubted either of us could return to the careful distance we’d maintained before.

A soft knock interrupted my thoughts. Octavia entered carrying what appeared to be simple cloth bindings for the chest and a wrap-style loincloth that tied at the hip that she laid on the bed.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“The academy’s official swimming attire for the water trials today,” Tavi said. “Though I fear they’re rather... revealing.”

I touched the fabric with dismay. “These will show all my scars.” I looked up at her. “What am I going to do? Noble born women don’t have scars like mine.”

The marks from the arena, from training, from my escape — each told a story I couldn’t afford to have read. Noble-born women didn’t bear the evidence of combat on their bodies.

Octavia bit her lip. “I suspected as much. I’ve brought this as well.” She produced a short, tight-fitting tunic made of lightweight material. “It won’t hinder your movement much, and we can claim it’s for modesty’s sake.”

“Thank you, Tavi.” I slipped the tunic over my head, adjusting it. “What exactly should I expect today? I haven’t done much swimming since I was a child.”

“From what I’ve gathered, it’s not meant to be primarily a swimming test,” Tavi reassured me. “Most of the obstacles are in shallow water — you should be able to touch the ground throughout. It’s more about endurance and navigating obstacles while partially submerged.”

“Why water trials at all?” I asked, securing the loincloth beneath the tunic. “It seems an odd requirement for dragon riders.”

“Much of the northern frontier borders Talfen territory,” Tavi explained. “Their lands are riddled with rivers, lakes, and marshes. It’s said that’s why they’re such strong swimmers — children learn almost before they can walk. The academy wants riders who can survive if separated from their dragons in such terrain.”

I nodded, though anxiety still curled in my stomach. “You’re sure about being able to touch the bottom?”

“That’s what the servants were saying when they prepared the area yesterday,” Tavi said, helping me bind my hair back. “The deepest sections barely reach a tall man’s chest.”

The assurance did little to quell my unease. I’d grown up in the desert, and even though there had been a river nearby, it had been shallow most of the year, and dry the rest of the time. The only time you could have swum would have been after a major storm, and the water had been so stirred up, it would have been too dangerous. Swimming wasn’t something you learned out there.

“I’ll manage,” I said, more to convince myself than Tavi. “After all, how difficult can it be compared to the arena?”

Tavi’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Just be careful. The noble-born have been swimming in private baths since childhood. They’ll be watching for any weakness.”

“Wonderful,” I muttered, adjusting the tunic one last time. “Another opportunity to fail spectacularly in front of the entire academy.”

“Did something go wrong last night then?” Tavi said, smoothing my tunic across my shoulders. “Septimus looked rather... intense when I passed him this morning.”

Heat rushed to my face. “Did he say anything?”

“Not a word, just stormed past like a thundercloud with legs.” She paused, her hands stilling on my shoulders. “So it finally happened, then?”

I groaned, dropping onto the edge of the bed. “Is it that obvious?”

“Only to someone who’s been watching you two circle each other for years.” She sat beside me, her expression softening. “Was it... good?”

Despite everything, I couldn’t help the smile that tugged at my lips. “Good doesn’t begin to describe it.”

“About time,” Tavi said with a laugh. “The way you two argue, I’m surprised the whole palace didn’t catch fire.”

“It wasn’t just…” I searched for the right words. “There’s this darkness in him, Tavi. And in me too. When we’re together, it’s like something ignites.”

Her smile faded slightly. “Be careful with him, Livia. Septimus holds everything inside, and one day I think he’ll just snap.”

“You think I don’t know how to handle him by now?”

“I think you’re the only one who can handle him,” she countered. “But that doesn’t make it safe.”

I laughed, though the sound came out hollow. “Nothing about what we’re doing is safe.”

“This is different.” Tavi took my hand. “Your heart isn’t something you can protect with a sword or shield.”

“Who said anything about hearts?” I pulled my hand away, standing to adjust my bindings again. “It was one night.”

“And tonight?”

I avoided her knowing gaze. “We’ll see.”

“That's what I thought.” Tavi stood, straightening her own dress. “Just remember, he’s been yours since the day he found you. Whether you wanted him or not.”

“You make him sound like a stray dog I took in.”

“More like a wolf,” she corrected. “One that’s only ever half-tamed, no matter how loyal it seems.”

“Now you’re being dramatic.”

“Says the woman who’s playing a noble, infiltrating the Dragon Academy, and plotting to assassinate the Emperor.” Tavi rolled her eyes. “Nothing dramatic about that at all.”

I snorted, relieved at the shift to lighter territory. “When you put it that way…”

“Just promise me you’ll be careful. With the trials and with Septimus.”

“I promise.” The lie came easily, though we both knew I’d do whatever was necessary. Careful had never been part of the plan.

“Good. Now let’s get you to these water trials before someone notices you’re late.” She handed me a light cloak to wear over my swimming attire. “Try not to drown today. It would be most inconvenient for our schedules.”

“I’ll do my best to accommodate your timetable,” I replied dryly, grateful for her friendship more than I could express.

As we left my chambers, I pushed thoughts of Septimus aside. Whatever was happening between us would have to wait. Today, I needed to focus solely on survival — a skill at which I’d become quite adept.

The trial grounds were impossible to miss — a massive artificial lake that dominated the eastern section of the academy grounds. I’d passed it during my initial tour but hadn’t appreciated its scale until now, standing at its edge among dozens of other candidates.

Wooden platforms of varying heights dotted the surface, connected by ropes, narrow bridges, and what appeared to be submerged walkways. At the centre, several tall poles rose from the water, supporting a complex arrangement of nets and suspended obstacles. The morning sun glinted off the water’s surface, almost beautiful if not for the knot of anxiety tightening in my chest.

“Candidates, gather!” The instructor’s voice carried across the water. He was a weathered man with sun-darkened skin and the distinctive arm tattoos of the naval legions. “Today’s trial will test your ability to operate in water-heavy terrain. In combat, especially near Talfen borders, you may find yourself separated from your dragon. Your survival will depend on navigating difficult conditions while maintaining your wits.”

I surveyed my competition. Most appeared confident, a few even eager. The water held no fear for them — another privilege of noble birth I hadn’t considered.

“You will complete the course in teams of four,” the instructor continued. “This is not a race against each other, but against the elements. You will be scored on completion time, obstacle navigation, and — most importantly — teamwork.”

Servants moved through the crowd, distributing small scrolls. I unrolled mine to find my team assignment and felt my heart sink.

Team Seven: Livia Cantius, Valeria Proxima, Cassia Murena, Drusilla Vibius, Jalend Northreach.

Five names, not four. I glanced up to see Valeria already staring at me, her lips curled in a smile that held no warmth. Beside her, Cassia and Drusilla exchanged whispers, their eyes flicking toward me with undisguised amusement.

“That can’t be right,” I muttered, scanning the list again. “Five people?”

“Ah, yes.” The instructor’s voice rose again. “Team Seven will have five members due to our odd number of candidates. Adjust your strategy accordingly.”

Valeria approached, her swimming attire somehow managing to appear both regulation and custom-tailored. Unlike my modest tunic, she wore only the standard bindings and loincloth, her body free of any marks or imperfections.

“How... fortunate that we’ll be working together,” she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “Though I must ask — do provincials learn to swim? There are so few proper facilities in the outlying regions.”

“We manage,” I replied, keeping my expression neutral despite the heat rising in my face.

Cassia appeared at Valeria’s shoulder. “Your outfit is... interesting. Is that a tunic? How creative to adapt the regulation attire.”

“Some of us prefer modesty,” I said.

“Or perhaps some have something to hide,” Drusilla suggested, her eyes traveling over my covered body with poorly concealed suspicion.

Before I could respond, Jalend joined our circle, his presence immediately shifting the dynamics. The women’s postures straightened, their expressions becoming more guarded, more calculated.

“Lord Jalend,” Valeria greeted him with a slight bow of her head. “How fortunate that we’ve been placed together.”

He barely acknowledged her, his gaze briefly meeting mine before scanning the obstacle course. “I see no fortune in randomized assignments.”

“Hardly random,” Cassia said with a light laugh. “The academy always ensures teams are... appropriately balanced.”

The implication was clear — I was the weak link they would need to compensate for. The burden they would carry through the trial.

“Teams, prepare yourselves!” the instructor called. “You will begin at the north shore and proceed through the obstacles in sequence. You must remain together — if any team member falls behind, the entire team fails.”

“I trust you can at least keep up,” Valeria said to me, her voice low enough that only our team could hear. “It would be such a shame to fail because of... provincial limitations.”

I bit back the retort that sprang to my lips. In the arena, such challenges would be met with steel. Here, I needed to prove myself through action, not words.

“The first section requires you to traverse the stepping stones while maintaining balance,” the instructor explained, pointing to partially submerged flat rocks. “Then proceed to the rope bridge, navigate the suspended netting, and finally, work together to cross the underwater pathway marked by the guide ropes. Remember, this is not just about individual skill — your score depends on how well you function as a unified team.”

Jalend studied the course with analytical detachment. “The underwater section appears to be the most challenging. How deep does it go?”

“Most sections are shallow enough to stand,” the instructor replied. “Though the central passage drops to about chest height on an average man.”

The information should have reassured me, but something in the way Valeria and her friends exchanged glances made my skin prickle with unease. They knew something I didn’t, and I had the distinct feeling I was about to find out what.

We made our way to the starting point, where several teams were already gathered. The water lapped gently at the shore, seeming to reach for my ankles with each small wave. I tried to swallow the knot of anxiety forming in my throat as I watched the rippling surface. I’d faced down gladiators and imperial soldiers — water shouldn’t terrify me this much.

“Remember,” the instructor called out, “you must complete each section as a team. Anyone who abandons their teammates will result in immediate disqualification.”

Valeria flicked her long braid over her shoulder, the wet strands catching the sunlight like polished obsidian. Her eyes slid dismissively over me, lingering on my tunic with poorly disguised contempt.

“That’s an... interesting interpretation of the regulation attire,” she said, voice dripping with false sweetness. “I wasn’t aware modesty was such a concern in the provinces.”

“Perhaps some of us prefer not to put everything on display,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady as I watched the water.

Valeria laughed, the sound like breaking glass. “Or perhaps some have flaws they’d rather keep hidden.” She stepped closer, lowering her voice. “What are you hiding under there, provincial? Deformities? Or just the soft body of someone who’s never had proper training?”

My jaw tightened. If she only knew the things my body had endured — the arena, the training pits, the escape that had nearly killed me. The scars I carried were badges of survival, not shame. But they would also instantly reveal me as no noble daughter.

“I’m sure you’ll have plenty of opportunities to critique my performance without worrying about my clothing choices,” I said.

Drusilla sidled up beside Valeria, her eyes fixed on Jalend who stood slightly apart from us, studying the obstacle course with intense focus.

“Lord Jalend,” she called, her voice transforming into something honeyed and soft. “You must be accustomed to such challenges in the North. Do you have any advice for those of us with... more delicate constitutions?”

He barely glanced at her. “Stay focused. Help your teammates if they struggle.”

“I’m sure you’d be quite the hero if anyone needed rescuing,” Cassia added, batting her eyelashes so dramatically I thought she might strain something.

Jalend’s expression remained impassive. “Heroes die. Survivors win.”

The flat statement killed their flirtation as effectively as a blade to the throat. I almost smiled, despite my growing unease as I watched team after team enter the water.

“Team Seven!” the instructor finally called. “Take your positions.”

The course before us consisted of a series of platforms connected by different challenges — first a rope bridge that hung low over shallow water, then a set of floating pontoons that rocked with the slightest movement, and finally a deeper section where guide ropes led through what appeared to be a submerged walkway.

“I’ll lead,” Valeria announced, already stepping toward the starting platform without waiting for agreement.

“Shouldn’t we discuss strategy first?” I asked, looking at the others.

Cassia laughed. “What strategy? We cross a bridge, walk some platforms, and follow a rope. It’s hardly a military campaign.”

“Fine,” I muttered, taking my place behind Drusilla as we lined up — Valeria first, then Cassia, Drusilla, me, and Jalend at the rear.

The rope bridge wasn’t difficult. The water beneath it was shallow enough that I could see the bottom, maybe waist-deep at most. I crossed carefully, one hand on each guide rope, aware of Jalend’s silent presence behind me. His calm was somehow reassuring, a stark contrast to the brittle energy of the women ahead.

The floating pontoons proved more challenging. They shifted unpredictably with each step, requiring careful balance and coordination. As I stepped onto the first one, it dipped sharply under my weight, sending water washing over my feet.

“Careful!” Cassia called back with mock concern. “They’re quite unstable if you’re... heavier than expected.”

I ignored the jab, focusing instead on finding my balance. Ahead of me, Valeria, Cassia, and Drusilla moved with practiced grace, their feet barely disturbing the platforms. Had they trained for this specifically? Or was this another skill all noble daughters learned alongside embroidery and politics?

“You’re too tense,” Jalend said quietly from behind me. “Loosen your knees. Move with the motion, don’t fight it.”

I tried to follow his advice, surprised he’d offered any assistance. My next steps were steadier, though the pontoons still felt treacherously unstable beneath me.

Halfway across, I made the mistake of looking down into the water. It was getting deeper — I could no longer see the bottom clearly. My heart began to race, memories flashing of a flooding river that had once swept through our village, carrying away livestock and very nearly my younger brother.

“Something wrong, provincial?” Valeria called back, noticing my hesitation. “Not getting frightened of a little water, are you?”

“I’m fine,” I said through gritted teeth, forcing myself to continue forward.

As I approached the final pontoon before the next platform, I noticed Valeria whispering something to Cassia and Drusilla. They glanced back at me, poorly concealed smiles playing on their lips. Something in their expressions made my skin prickle with unease.

Just as I reached the last pontoon, Drusilla suddenly shifted her weight, causing the platform to rock violently. I wavered, arms windmilling as I fought for balance. For a terrible moment, I thought I’d recover — then Cassia “accidentally” kicked the edge of my pontoon as she stepped onto a solid platform.

The world tilted. I plunged sideways into the water with a startled cry, the cold shocking the air from my lungs. I expected to touch the bottom immediately, but there was nothing — just open water beneath me, deeper than it had appeared from above.

Panic seized me. I thrashed wildly, trying to keep my head above water, but my tunic had become a sodden weight dragging me down. I could hear laughter, distant and cruel, as I struggled.

“I thought provincials were supposed to be resourceful!” Valeria’s voice carried over the water. “Surely you can manage a little swim?”

I gulped air between desperate strokes, memories of that long-ago flood overwhelming me. The roaring water, my brother’s terrified face as I’d barely reached him in time, the exhaustion of fighting the current...

“She can’t swim,” I heard Jalend say flatly from somewhere above me.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Valeria replied. “Everyone can swim.”

I went under again, swallowing water as I clawed toward the surface. The weight of my clothes pulled me down, my limbs growing heavier with each desperate movement. When I broke the surface again, I could barely gasp half a breath before sinking.

Through water-blurred vision, I saw Valeria and her friends watching from the platform, their expressions shifting from amusement to uncertainty as they realized I truly was in trouble. Cassia took a half-step forward, then hesitated, looking at Valeria.

“She’s faking,” Valeria insisted, though her voice held less conviction. “Looking for sympathy.”

My vision began to darken at the edges. The faces of those who believed in me flashed through my mind: Septimus, whose faith in me never wavered; Marcus, who saw my potential when others saw only a slave; Tavi, whose friendship had kept me human when all I wanted was vengeance. I was failing them all, drowning in a training exercise instead of dying for a purpose.

Just as consciousness began to slip away, I felt strong arms wrap around me, pulling me upward. I broke the surface, coughing violently, water spewing from my mouth as I gulped desperately for air.

“I’ve got you,” Jalend’s voice was low and steady in my ear as he towed me toward the nearest platform. My vision swam in and out of focus, consciousness flickering like a dying flame.

His strong arms lifted me from the water, cradling me against his chest as he climbed one-handed onto the wooden surface. For a moment, I was aware only of his heartbeat, steady and strong beneath my cheek, the rhythm somehow anchoring me as my body trembled uncontrollably.

“Breathe,” he commanded softly, setting me down but keeping one arm around my shoulders as I doubled over, coughing up water.

I clutched at his forearm, desperate for something solid to hold onto as my body purged the lake from my lungs. Through streaming eyes, I became aware of his face — closer than it had ever been, his usual mask of indifference replaced by something I couldn’t quite name. Concern? Recognition?

For a heartbeat, his steel-grey eyes met mine, and something electric passed between us — some silent understanding that neither of us belonged to the world of these pampered nobles. His hand tightened almost imperceptibly on my shoulder, and I saw his throat work as he swallowed whatever words had nearly escaped.

Then, just as quickly as it had appeared, the moment shattered. His expression closed off, the wall slamming back into place as he became aware of the instructors rushing toward us.

“She needs air,” he said flatly, withdrawing his arm from my shoulders and creating a careful distance between us.

The sudden absence of his warmth left me even more aware of my sodden clothes, my humiliating failure, and the dozens of eyes watching my disgrace unfold.

“Team Seven is disqualified,” the instructor announced. “Failure to complete the challenge and maintain team safety.”

Jalend pulled himself to his feet beside me, water streaming from his clothes. His expression had returned to its usual unreadable state, no trace remaining of that brief connection we’d shared. But I couldn’t forget it — that single moment when the Northern heir had seen me, truly seen me.

“A provincial who can’t swim,” I heard Drusilla stage-whisper to Cassia. “How utterly provincial.”

Their laughter cut deeper than any blade. I pushed myself to my feet, legs threatening to buckle beneath me. Every eye was on me — the pretender, the fraud, exposed by something as simple as water.

“I didn’t realize—” the instructor began, but I pushed past him, unable to bear another moment of scrutiny.

I stumbled away from the trial grounds, breaking into a run as soon as my trembling legs would carry me. Tears mixed with the water on my face as I fled, shame burning through me like fire. How could I face Septimus? What would I tell him? That I’d failed at something children could do? That I’d exposed a weakness that could unravel everything we’d worked for?

Behind me, Valeria’s laughter echoed, the sound following me like a shadow I couldn’t outrun. But it was the memory of Jalend’s momentary connection — and its swift withdrawal — that haunted me most. For one brief instant, someone had seen past my disguise, not to expose me, but to recognize something kindred.

In that moment, I knew the truth that I’d been fighting since arriving at the academy: I didn’t belong here. I never had. And now everyone knew it too.