Gilded Serpent Danielle Jensen (i can read with my eyes shut .TXT) 📖

hard time arguing a legion of that caliber be underutilized. Any legatus would know that, him especially.”

Teriana rubbed at her temples, trying to sort through the mess of politics and lies and intrigue, unsure of what she should say. Not wanting to betray Marcus’s confidence out of hand. “He wanted to escape.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s tired of being under the Senate’s control—of being told where to go and who to conquer without any respite.” Biting her lip, she added, “I’ve seen firsthand the horror of what they do and what it costs them—he wanted the opportunity to give his men a better future, and he thought the Dark Shores was a chance for that.”

Senator Valerius was silent, finally saying, “He’s darkened the future of a good many living in the Empire to achieve that freedom.”

“He knows. But something you should know about Marcus is that he’ll do whatever it takes to protect those he cares about, and that legion is everything to him.”

“Not everything, now is it?” The senator climbed awkwardly to his feet, pacing up and down the room. “From the way he conducted himself today, I can only assume he’s quite taken with you.”

She squeezed her eyes shut.

“If he knows anything about Lydia’s fate, he might be willing to tell you.”

Her eyelids snapped open. “Are you suggesting he was involved?”

“Charming as I’m sure he can be, Teriana, please keep in mind that the boy is a trained killer with an entire legion of trained killers at his disposal. And Cassius would not have done the deed himself—it’s not his way.”

Was Marcus involved? Her blood chilled. Had he sent someone like Quintus to kill Lydia while she sat defenseless in the baths?

Bile rose in her throat, but then she shook her head. “No. His involvement doesn’t make any sense. By the time Lydia was killed, the Senate had already agreed that Marcus would be in command of the mission. He’d have no reason to do Cassius’s dirty work.”

“Teriana, he’s been doing the Empire’s dirty work for a good portion of his life.” His voice was soft, as though he were breaking bad news to a particularly naive child. “He’s arranged assassinations before—I know that for a fact.”

As did she. And maybe she was naive, but still she said, “There’s a difference between doing it on the orders of the Senate and to satisfy the personal grievances of a single senator. He wouldn’t have agreed to it, especially given he hates Cassius.”

“You seem to have come to know him well.”

Lydia’s father fell silent, and when Teriana glanced in his direction, she saw that his eyes were considering. Then he asked, “Why does he hate him?”

She opened her mouth to point out that the answer was obvious, then closed it again. Because it wasn’t.

“The question remains: If he knows anything about Lydia, do you think he’ll tell you?”

Swallowing hard, she nodded. “He trusts me.”

“Do you think he’d be willing to testify against Cassius in the courts?”

For the sake of taking away the consulship from Cassius, she had to believe it was so. Except if he’d always had knowledge, why wouldn’t he have used it before? “I can ask him.”

Senator Valerius reached down for her hand, drawing her up. “I’ll arrange for you to see him tomorrow. Cassius seems eager to have him out of Celendrial, and perhaps this is part of the reason why.”

Allowing him to lead her out of the library, she avoided the curious eyes of Austornic and the other boys, though they followed. Senator Valerius took her to Lydia’s rooms. “You can rest in here, Teriana. They are as she left them. I’ll have the servants bring you something to eat.”

Shutting the door, she crossed the room and climbed onto Lydia’s bed, burying her face in the pillows and inhaling, searching for the familiar scent of rosewater and perfume.

But they smelled stale. Lifeless. Not like Lydia at all.

A strange desperation filled her, and Teriana fell off the bed, stumbling into the closet and grabbing dress after dress, searching for the scent that would trigger her memory. That would pull her back into a time when Lydia had been alive and well.

Her best friend.

Her sister.

But it was as though she’d never lived in these rooms. As though she’d never lived at all.

“I’m sorry.” She dropped to her knees, pressing her forehead to the tile. “I’m sorry!”

Great heaving sobs tore from her lips. Her chest ached, and her face was slick with snot and tears. The world swam around her. A world of loss and hurt and pain. And betrayal. Not Lydia’s but hers. If only she’d taken Lydia away that day, none of this would have happened.

It is your fault.

You did this.

And maybe that was so. But it was Cassius who was the villain.

The wild twist of emotions running through her demanded that she go in search of his blood, but the odds of her success were slim. Which meant she needed a better weapon.

She couldn’t wait for tomorrow. Not when she knew for a fact that Marcus was in reach.

Easing open the window, she leaned over the edge, searching the darkness of the gardens below for signs of the young legionnaires tasked with watching over her. She caught sight of a flicker of motion, the gleam of light against a metal breastplate, and she watched as the shadow navigated the pathways. When he was out of sight, she climbed up on the sill, and taking a deep breath, she jumped.

Air whistled through her hair as she fell, her boots making a soft thud against the dirt as she fell into a roll. On her feet in a flash, she hurried through the gardens in the direction of the Domitius villa, pausing from time to time to ensure she wasn’t being followed.

The wall between the two properties was ancient, the stacked stones green with moss but easy enough to climb. Rolling over the top, she glanced to ensure the footing was good, and then she jumped.

“What are you doing