We walked in comfortable silence through the grand corridors of the palace, our footsteps echoing against marble floors. The guards stationed at intervals along the walls stood at rigid attention, their eyes fixed forward as if we didn't exist.
"Are you afraid?" Jalend asked suddenly as we turned down a quieter hallway.
"Of what?"
"Tomorrow. The Academy. The war." He glanced down at me, his expression unreadable in the shadowy passage. "All of it."
I considered lying, then decided against it. "Yes."
"Good. Fear keeps you sharp. The ones who aren't afraid are the first to die."
"Is that supposed to be comforting?"
"No. It's supposed to be true."
I laughed softly. "You really are terrible at reassurance."
"I never claimed otherwise." His pace slowed as we approached the guest quarters where I was staying.
"What about you?" I asked. "Are you afraid?"
A muscle in his jaw tightened. "Always. But not of dying."
"What then?"
"Of living too long. Of becoming what I despise." His voice dropped to barely a whisper. "Of losing whatever remains of my soul in this war."
The raw honesty in his words caught me off guard. This wasn't the arrogant, cynical man I'd come to know. For the first time, I glimpsed something deeper, something wounded beneath his carefully constructed facade.
"I didn't realize you had a soul to lose," I said, trying to lighten the moment.
He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "That's what most people think. It's safer that way."
"You know," Jalend said finally. "When I entered the trials knowing it would mean six months at the academy with nobles like Cassia and Valeria, I was... less than enthusiastic.”
He stopped walking, turning to face me. In the flickering torchlight, his features were cast in gold and shadow, his eyes dark and intent.
"Now I find myself looking forward to it." His voice was soft, almost reluctant, as though the admission had been dragged from him against his will. "At least to certain aspects of it."
My heart began to beat faster. "Such as?"
"You're not a fool, Livia." He stepped closer, close enough that I could feel the heat of him, smell the faint scent of cedar and leather that clung to his skin. "You know exactly what I mean."
Before I could respond, he lifted my hand to his lips, pressing a kiss against my knuckles. The gesture was proper enough to pass inspection by any watching eyes, but the heat in his gaze was anything but proper.
"Sleep well, Lady Cantius," he said, his voice carrying just enough for anyone listening to hear. "Tomorrow begins your true education."
33
The corridors were deserted, lit only by the occasional guttering torch. I moved silently through the shadows, avoiding the few locations where night guards might be posted. The dragon stables lay on the eastern edge of the Academy grounds, and most of the handlers would be asleep by now, with only a skeleton crew maintaining watch over the dragons, and they wouldn’t turn their head at a noble entering to see her dragon.
Inside, the stable was warm and dim, filled with the sounds of sleeping dragons—deep, rumbling breaths and occasional snorts or low growls as they dreamed dragon dreams. The air smelled of hay and leather, of oil used to keep scales supple and the metallic tang of the iron collars every Academy dragon wore.
I moved quickly past the stalls holding the browns and greens, the common beasts used for basic training. Sirrax, being rather larger, was housed in a larger enclosure at the far end of the stable, separated from the others, as was Jalend’s bronze.
When I reached his stall, he was already awake, his golden eyes gleaming in the darkness like twin moons. He sensed mecoming, as he always did. Our bond had grown stronger with each passing day, a connection that sometimes frightened me with its intensity. He understood me in ways no human ever had, not even Marcus.
"Hello, beautiful," I whispered, reaching out to stroke the warm scales of his muzzle. "Ready for an adventure?"
