Page 16 of Kingdom of Darkness and Dragons (Empire of Vengeance #4)

"These are the last ones," the attendant said, gesturing to a row of six bodies near the back wall. "Found them in the rubble yesterday. Took this long to dig them out."

Antonius and I exchanged glances. If Tarshi and Septimus were here, it would be among these final recoveries. We approached slowly, both of us dreading what we might find.

The first body was a woman, middle-aged, her face remarkably intact despite the obvious trauma to her torso.

Not familiar. The second was a young man, maybe twenty, his dark hair and slight build making my heart skip before I realized the features were all wrong.

The third and fourth were clearly father and son, found embracing each other.

The fifth was another woman, elderly, her grey hair still neatly braided despite everything.

The sixth body made us both freeze.

He was the right age, the right build. The pointed ears that marked him as one of the Talfens. His face was damaged, making identification difficult, but something about the shape of his jaw, the set of his shoulders...

"It's not him," Antonius said quietly, and I realized I'd been holding my breath. "Look at his hands."

I looked, and he was right. This man's fingers were long and elegant, unmarked by the countless small scars that came from weapons training.

Tarshi's hands bore the evidence of years with sword and bow, just as ours did.

These hands belonged to a scholar or merchant, someone who'd never held a blade in anger.

We checked the remaining bodies quickly, but neither of us recognized anyone. When we finally emerged from the morgue, I felt simultaneously relieved and frustrated. They weren't dead—at least, not here. But that left us with more questions than answers.

"There's something else," Antonius said as we began the walk back to the Academy. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of parchment. "This was delivered to the tavern yesterday. For Livia."

I took the letter, examining the outside. Her false name was written in careful script, but there was no indication of who it was from or where it had originated. The wax seal was plain, unmarked.

"Any idea who brought it?"

"Street child. Said a hooded figure gave him a copper to deliver it, nothing more." Antonius shrugged. "Could be nothing. Could be everything."

We walked in comfortable silence for a while, both lost in our own thoughts. The afternoon sun was warm on our faces, and despite the grim nature of our errand, I found myself appreciating the simple pleasure of being alive, of having a friend to share the burden with.

"How are things with Livia?" I asked eventually, unable to resist the urge to poke at my friend's obvious misery.

Antonius shot me a sideways look. "Fine. We're friends."

"Friends," I repeated, letting all my scepticism show. "Right. The kind of friends who hold each other through the night when one of them is crying."

"She was upset," he said defensively. "What was I supposed to do, let her suffer alone?"

"Oh, absolutely. You're such a selfless martyr, offering comfort to a beautiful woman who clearly adores you." I grinned at his scowl. "Must have been a real hardship, having her fall asleep in your arms."

"Shut up, Marcus."

"I'm just saying, for someone who claims they're 'just friends,' you sure spend a lot of time staring at her like a lovesick puppy."

He stopped walking entirely. "I do not stare at her like a—"

"You absolutely do. Remember last week when she was training with her sword forms? You walked straight into a wall because you were too busy watching her bend over to pick up her dropped blade."

Antonius's face flushed red. "That was... I was distracted by her technique."

"Oh, you were definitely distracted by something." I couldn't help but laugh at his expression. "Come on, big man. We've been friends for years. I've seen you face down a dozen gladiators without blinking but mention Livia's name and you turn into a blushing maiden."

"I hate you," he muttered, but there was no real heat in it.

"No, you don't. You love me because I'm the only one brave enough to tell you when you're being an idiot." I started walking again, forcing him to catch up. "Which is right now, by the way. You're being a spectacular idiot."

"How exactly am I being an idiot?"

"Let me count the ways," I said cheerfully.

"First, despite what you told me about noticing her recently, you've been in love with her since before we escaped the ludus, and everyone except apparently you two knows it.

Second, she seeks you out when she's hurting, which means she trusts you.

Third, and this is the important part—she laid her hand on your arm for ten minutes straight yesterday while you were telling that story about your childhood, and you just sat there like a statue instead of, oh I don't know, showing any sign that you're interested in her as more than a brotherly figure. "

"She’s so much younger than me," he protested. "I wasn't going to take advantage—"

"Who said anything about taking advantage?

I'm talking about basic human signals, you ox.

A smile, a gentle squeeze, maybe telling her she looks beautiful when she's sitting there in the afternoon light looking like a goddess.

" I shook my head in exasperation. "Instead, you just nodded along like she was reciting military strategy. "

Antonius was quiet for a long moment. "What if she doesn't... what if I'm wrong about how she feels?"

And there it was—the fear beneath all the deflection. I softened my tone, though I kept the teasing edge. "Then you'll find out, and you can stop torturing yourself by wondering. But Antonius, trust me on this—I've never seen a woman look at a 'friend' the way she looks at you."

"How does she look at me?" The question came out almost reluctantly, like he was afraid of the answer.

"Like she's trying to work up the courage to climb you like a tree," I said bluntly, which made him choke on his own spit. "Seriously, the woman practically undresses you with her eyes when she thinks no one's watching. It's honestly a little embarrassing how obvious you both are."

"She does not—"

"She does. Last week when you were chopping wood behind the quarters with your shirt off? She stood at that window for twenty minutes just... watching. I thought she might actually drool."

His face was bright red now, but I could see the hint of a pleased smile he was trying to hide. "You're making that up."

"I am absolutely not making that up. Ask her yourself if you don't believe me." I grinned at his horrified expression. "Or better yet, next time you catch her staring, stare back. See what happens."

"You're insane," he muttered, but the thoughtful look was back in his eyes.

"I'm practical. And I'm tired of watching you both dance around each other when you could just... talk to her. Tell her how you feel. What's the worst that could happen?"

"She could say no."

"She could. But she could also say yes. And considering how she practically melts every time you're within arm's reach, I'm betting on yes.

" I clapped him on the shoulder. "Besides, you're Antonius the Giant-Slayer.

You once killed three men with a broken sword and a bucket.

Surely you can handle one conversation with a woman who already cares about you. "

He grumbled something that sounded like a string of creative curses, but I caught the slight smile tugging at his lips.

"There's that fighting spirit," I said approvingly. "Now stop being a coward and go tell our girl how you feel. Before she decides you're not interested and starts looking elsewhere."

"She wouldn't—" He stopped, looking genuinely alarmed at the possibility.

"She might. Women don't wait around forever, you know. Even patient ones like Livia." I was laying it on thick now, but it seemed to be working. "Especially if she thinks her feelings aren't returned."

"Fine," he said, squaring his shoulders like he was preparing for battle. "Fine. I'll... think about it."

"Think fast," I advised. "Because if you don't make a move soon, I'm going to start giving her advice on how to seduce you, and trust me, that's a conversation none of us want to have."

The look of pure terror on his face was absolutely priceless, but then his jaw tightened. "It's not that simple."

"Isn't it?" I started walking again, forcing him to keep up. "You're both adults. You care about each other. The worst she can do is say no."

"The worst she can do is say yes and then realize she made a mistake." The words came out harsh, pained. "I can't lose her, Marcus. Not over something like this."

I understood the fear—gods, did I understand it. We'd all been through too much loss, had too much taken from us, to risk what we had for what we might gain. But watching him torture himself, watching both of them dance around feelings that were obvious to everyone else, was its own kind of agony.

"You're not going to lose her," I said firmly. "Whatever happens, you're not going to lose her. But living in this limbo isn't fair to either of you."

He grunted, which was about as close to agreement as I was going to get from him when he was being stubborn and grumbled something under his breath that I chose not to hear, but I could see the thoughtful expression on his face. Maybe, just maybe, I'd gotten through to him.

We reached the Academy grounds just as the evenmeal bells were ringing.

Students streamed past us, chattering about classes and dragons and the thousand small dramas that made up their lives.

For a moment, I envied them their innocence, their ability to worry about normal things like examinations and social hierarchies instead of life and death and the constant fear of discovery.

Our quarters were on the third floor of the residential wing, and I could tell by the abandoned leathers on one of the couches that Livia was already back from classes and changing for the meal.

I knocked before entering, a habit we'd all developed out of respect for each other's privacy. "It's us."

"Come in," came her voice, warm with affection.

We entered to find her standing before the small mirror, putting the finishing touches on her appearance.

She'd changed from her stained Academy uniform into a simple dress of soft lilac that complemented her brown skin beautifully.

Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and she'd somehow managed to erase all evidence of her afternoon spent scrubbing floors.

I caught Antonius's sharp intake of breath and had to bite back a smile. The man was completely hopeless.

"You look lovely," I said, settling into my usual chair.

"Thank you." She turned from the mirror, and I was struck again by how much lighter she seemed than she had in weeks. Whatever had happened with Jalend, it had done her good.

Antonius was still standing by the door, apparently struck speechless by the sight of her. I cleared my throat meaningfully, and he seemed to shake himself back to awareness.

"The letter," he said abruptly, pulling the parchment from his pocket. "This came for you."

Livia took it with curious eyes, examining the outside before breaking the seal. As she unfolded the message, I watched her face, looking for any sign of what it might contain. Her expression shifted from curiosity to shock to something that might have been relief.

She looked up at us, tears gathering in her eyes, and spoke two words that changed everything:

"They're alive."