Page 215 of Scorched Earth

“Then you probably know Cassius has assumed the role of dictator,” she said. “He no longer answers to the Senate. He no longer answers to anyone. He’s doubled enrollment at Lescendor and extended the years of mandatory service, so maybe it’s time you asked yourself whether you want to go to the grave doing things you don’t like or whether you’ll risk what years you have left to make them worth living.”

“Nice speech,” he muttered. “But if you’re looking for a martyr, I’m not it. And yes, we know. Just as we know that you killed Hostus. We should arrest you, but in honesty, not a man in the Thirty-Seventh didn’t lift a cup in toast when we heard.”

Their conversation stalled after that, both of them walking in silence until they reached the throne room, the entrance flanked by thrice the normal number of guards Marcus preferred. Her stomach tightened at the sight of Gibzen, who’d obviously resumed his duties.

“What is she doing here?” the primus demanded.

“Playing messenger,” Servius answered. “Not that it’s your business.”

“She’s a threat.”

“That’s his decision to make.” Servius loomed over the other man. “Or should we tell him that you’re making decisions for him?”

Gibzen glared back at Servius for a long moment, then shrugged. “Fine.”

“Wait here,” Servius said to her, then cracked open one of the enormous twin doors, shutting it behind him before she could peek inside.

“If you’ve come running back to beg forgiveness, you’re wasting your time.” Gibzen’s mouth twisted in a sneer. “Things are back to normal, and we are winning the way we should. All you’ve ever been is trouble, and he finally sees that. He can have any girl on any continent, and you’ve already been had, Teriana.”

She tensed at the crudeness of his words. Gibzen had always been an ass, but this… this was personal.

“Why do you hate me so much?” she asked, wishing his words didn’t hurt as much as they did.

“Because he’s ours and you tried to steal him!” he snarled. “He’s what makes us the best, and you knew that. Knew that if you ruined him, these shithole kingdoms might actually have a chance.” He leaned in close, his breath reeking and rotten as he added, “But you failed, and he’s not going to fall for your tricks again.”

He’s jealous.

The thought roared through her skull, but before she could respond, Gibzen said, “Did you get to say hello to your friend Austornic in Celendrial? Howisthe Fifty-First?”

“Redeployed.” The words came out from between her teeth, guilt still sour in her stomach. Though maybe it was for the best that the Fifty-First was out of Marcus’s reach.

A slow smile formed on Gibzen’s face, as if he knew something she didn’t, but then Servius appeared. “He’ll see her. Search her for weapons.”

Teriana kept her chin high as Gibzen roughly searched her, finding nothing because she’d consciously come unarmed. “Clean,” he muttered, obviously disappointed.

Clapping a hand on her shoulder, Servius gave it a squeeze, then directed her inside the gap between the doors. Teriana stepped through, every muscle in her body tensing as the door shut with a resoundingboom.

The throne room was cold.

Not cold in the way of Sibern, where the air had seemed to press in. Rather as it had been around Cassius, a cold that stole the heat from her flesh, as though if she stood in this room long enough, it would turn her very heart to ice.

Every instinct in her core screameddanger, but Teriana held her ground, taking in the room. She’d been here dozens of times in her life, and much of the décor remained, the only noticeable absence the throne that had once sat on the dais. In its place sat a familiar folding table surrounded by flimsy campstools, the surface covered with maps and reports and ledgers. At its head, in his usual seat, sat Marcus.

He hadn’t looked up, one elbow resting on the table, the other slightly elevated as he dipped the pen he held in a pot of ink before resuming writing on the page before him.

Everything about him looked the same.

Yet everything about him was different.

“Bold of you to be here given it’s rumored you killed Hostus.”

Teriana twitched, then forced herself to walk toward the table. “Are you going to arrest me?”

“I’ve received no orders to do so.” He dipped his pen in the ink. “Servius says you have a message from Cordelia.”

“I do. I spoke with her when I was in Celendrial arranging the release of my people.”

Marcus didn’t answer, just kept writing. He wore only a tunic, and near the neck she could see the white of bandages.What happened to him?