Page 34 of Realms of Swords and Storms (Empire of Vengeance #3)

"Better than you might expect. The men become like brothers, each with his own role in the family. There is remarkably little jealousy." He smiled slightly. "Perhaps because any man foolish enough to fight over his wife would find himself sleeping outside in the snow."

I chuckled at the image. "A powerful deterrent."

"Indeed." Antonius's gaze drifted back to Livia. "She seems happy, though. With her arrangement."

"She is," I confirmed, watching him closely. "Are you interested in her, Antonius?"

The big man's cheeks darkened slightly, but he didn't deny it. "She's a remarkable woman. Strong, skilled, fearless. In the North, she would be highly sought after as a wife."

"And here?"

He shrugged his massive shoulders. "Here, I am just a foreign giant, a curiosity at best, a barbarian at worst. She would have no reason to look twice at me."

"I wouldn't be so sure," I said, surprising myself with the words. "Livia sees people for who they truly are, not what others label them. And she values strength of character above all else. Something you have in abundance."

Antonius looked at me, genuine surprise in his eyes. "You would not object? If I were to express interest?"

The question gave me pause. Would I object?

There had been a time when Livia and I might have built a life together, before duty and circumstance pulled us in different directions.

Part of me would always love her, always wonder what might have been.

But that time had passed, and I had made my peace with it.

"No," I said honestly. "I wouldn't object. But I should warn you—Livia makes her own choices. Always has. She's not a woman to be pursued or won. She either wants you in her life or she doesn't."

Antonius nodded, a new respect in his gaze. "Thank you for your honesty. And your... blessing, though I know it's not yours to give."

"Consider it friendly advice from someone who knows her well," I said with a small smile.

Our conversation was interrupted as Livia and Tarshi approached our table. Tarshi was moving better than he had been, though he still favoured his injured leg. Whatever had changed between them seemed to have eased some of the tension I'd noticed in previous weeks.

"Mind if we join you?" Livia asked, already pulling out a chair.

"Please," I gestured to the empty seats.

As they settled, I couldn't help but notice the way Antonius straightened slightly, his usual stoic expression softening almost imperceptibly. Interesting. I wondered if Livia had noticed his interest. She was usually perceptive about such things.

"What did Kalen want?" I asked Tarshi, nodding toward where the resistance leader was now speaking with Mira near the stairs.

A shadow passed over Tarshi's face. "More details about the festival plans. Nothing important."

He was lying. I could tell from the way his eyes slid away from mine, the slight tension in his jaw. Livia seemed to notice it too, a small furrow appearing between her brows.

"You don't seem convinced," I observed.

Tarshi shrugged, a deliberately casual gesture. "The usual resistance talk. Glory and sacrifice and striking at the heart of imperial power."

"And you believe we can succeed?" Antonius asked, his deep voice pulling Tarshi's attention away from me.

"I believe we have to try," Tarshi replied after a moment's hesitation. "The Empire won't fall from a single blow, but each demonstration, each act of defiance, weakens its foundation."

Noble sentiments, and ones I might have agreed with completely not long ago. But the doubts that had been plaguing me wouldn't be silenced so easily.

"Unless the Empire is counting on those acts of defiance," I said quietly, voicing my concern at last. "Unless they're allowing us to plan this demonstration because it serves their purposes somehow."

Livia's gaze sharpened. "You think it's a trap."

"I think we need to consider the possibility more seriously than we have been."

Tarshi frowned, leaning forward. "What makes you think that?"

I glanced around, ensuring no one was close enough to overhear.

"The increased patrols. The new checkpoints.

The change in meeting location. And..." I hesitated, then pressed on.

"Has anyone else noticed that the Empire seems unusually well-informed about our smaller demonstrations recently?

They've had guards waiting at locations we've targeted, almost as if they knew in advance. "

"Coincidence," Tarshi suggested, but I could see doubt in his eyes.

"Once or twice, perhaps. But it's been happening too consistently." I lowered my voice further. "I think someone in the resistance is feeding information to the Empire."

Livia's expression darkened. "A spy."

"It would explain a lot," Antonius agreed. "Including why the Emperor might still plan to attend the festival despite the unrest."

"If he knows what we're planning, he can prepare accordingly," I continued. "Turn our demonstration against us, make us appear violent and dangerous rather than legitimate protesters with valid grievances."

Tarshi's hands clenched on the table. "If you're right, we're walking into a slaughter."

"Not necessarily," I cautioned. "Even if the Empire knows something is planned, they may not know the specifics. And they'd still want to avoid obvious violence against citizens in the capital, especially during a public festival."

"Unless they could make it appear that we struck first," Livia pointed out, her mind following the same dark path mine had. "If they could provoke us into violence, or stage something to make it seem we were the aggressors..."

"Exactly," I nodded grimly.

A heavy silence fell over our table, each of us contemplating the implications. If the Empire knew about our plans and was allowing them to proceed, it meant they saw an opportunity to discredit the resistance, perhaps even to eliminate key members in one decisive action.

"We need to speak with Kalen," Antonius said finally. "Share these concerns."

I shook my head. "I've tried. He's convinced the demonstration must proceed as planned. He believes showing strength now is essential, that backing down would demoralize our supporters."

"He may be right," Tarshi said, though he didn't sound convinced. "If we cancel the demonstration because of suspicions we can't prove, what message does that send?"

"A better one than walking into a trap," I countered.

"So what do we do?" Livia asked, her gaze steady on mine. "If Kalen won't listen, if the demonstration proceeds as planned?"

It was the question I'd been wrestling with for days. My instinct was to withdraw, to protect myself and those I cared about from what increasingly felt like a doomed endeavour. But that would mean abandoning others who trusted in the plan, who might walk unknowing into danger.

"We prepare," I said finally. "We create our own contingencies. And we watch for any further signs that confirm our suspicions."

"And if those signs appear?" Antonius pressed.

"Then we warn as many as we can, and we get out." I met each of their gazes in turn. "No cause is worth dying for needlessly, especially if our deaths would only serve the Empire's narrative."

Tarshi nodded slowly. "I'll keep an eye on Kalen, see if I can learn more about the specific plans for the day."

"I can use my position at the academy to gather information about imperial security arrangements for the festival," Livia offered.

"And I'll watch our own people," I said, my gaze drifting to where Elan sat deep in conversation with another resistance member. "See if I can identify who might be passing information to the Empire."

Antonius followed my gaze. "The scribe?"

"Among others," I nodded. "He's new, has access to imperial information, and asks very specific questions about our plans."

"I've noticed him too," Livia agreed. "Too eager to know details, especially about who will be where during the demonstration."

"We'll need to be careful," Tarshi warned. "If we're right about a spy and they realize we suspect, it could accelerate whatever the Empire is planning."

"Agreed," I said. "We keep this between us for now. Watch and wait, gather what information we can."

As our small council broke up, I remained at the table, finishing my ale and watching as others gradually departed.

Elan was among the last to leave, pausing briefly to speak with Kalen before ascending the stairs.

Something about his manner—a certain careful precision to his movements, perhaps, or the way his eyes never seemed to settle for long on any one person—strengthened my suspicion.

Antonius's hand landed heavily on my shoulder. "Ready?"

I nodded, rising to my feet. As we made our way up the stairs and out into the cool night air, I couldn't shake the sense of foreboding that had settled over me.

Ten days until the festival. Ten days to determine if we were indeed walking into a trap.

Ten days to decide if loyalty to the resistance's cause outweighed the growing certainty that something was terribly wrong with the plan.

"You're quiet," Antonius observed as we walked through the darkened streets, keeping to shadows out of habit.

"Just thinking."

"About the spy?"

"Among other things." I glanced at him. "What would you do, if you were certain the demonstration was a trap? Would you still participate, knowing the risk?"

Antonius was silent for several paces, considering the question with his usual care.

"In the North," he said finally, "we have a saying: 'A bear known is less dangerous than a viper hidden.

' If I knew the trap existed, I might still walk into it—but on my terms, with my eyes open, and perhaps with a plan to turn the hunter into the prey. "

I nodded, appreciating his perspective. "And if others would be endangered by your choice? Innocents who don't know about the trap?"

His expression grew sombre. "Then the calculation changes. No honourable victory is built on the sacrifice of the innocent."

"My thoughts exactly."

We walked in companionable silence for a time, each lost in our own thoughts. As we approached the point where our paths would diverge—Antonius to the small room he rented near the docks, me to my own modest lodgings in the artisans' quarter—he paused.

"Marcus," he said, his deep voice unusually hesitant. "About Livia..."

I held up a hand, stopping him. "You don't need my permission, if that's what you're asking for."

"Not permission. Advice." A rare, self-deprecating smile crossed his face. "I am not... skilled in matters of the heart. Especially not with women like her."

I couldn't help but chuckle. "I'm not sure anyone is 'skilled' when it comes to Livia.

She defies ordinary expectations." I considered for a moment, then offered what guidance I could.

"Be honest with her. Direct. Don't play games or try to impress her with anything but who you truly are.

She values authenticity above all else."

He nodded, absorbing this. "And her current... arrangements? With Tarshi and this Septimus?"

"That's for her to explain, if she chooses to." I clasped his massive shoulder. "Just talk to her, Antonius. The worst she can say is no, and Livia's never cruel in her refusals."

"Thank you," he said simply. "For your friendship, as well as your advice."

"We northerners must stick together," I replied with a small smile, adopting the formal tone he sometimes used.

His booming laugh echoed down the empty street, startling a cat from its perch on a nearby wall. "Until tomorrow, then."

"Until tomorrow," I agreed, watching as he continued on his way, his massive frame eventually disappearing into the darkness.

As I turned toward my own lodgings, my thoughts returned to the resistance, to the festival, to the growing certainty that something was very wrong with our plans.

I had ten days to find proof, ten days to convince others of the danger, ten days to prevent what increasingly felt like an impending disaster.

I hoped it would be enough.