“My mind is made up,” I replied coldly. “We’re here, and failure means death for all of us. So forgive me if I’m not gentle enough in my approach.”
“This isn’t about gentleness. It’s about reason.” She paced away from me, frustration evident in every line of her body. “I’m doing everything you and Octavia taught me. I maintained my cover through hours of scrutiny. One observant opponent doesn’t mean the plan is falling apart.”
“One observant opponent is all it takes to unravel everything,” I countered. “One person who notices the wrong detail, who asks the wrong question—”
“And I’m telling you I handled it!” Her voice rose despite herself, and she visibly fought to control her volume. “I know the stakes, Septimus. I’m the one who proposed this plan in the first place.”
“A plan that grows more dangerous by the day.” I moved closer to her, close enough to smell the faint scent of sweat and leather that still clung to her.
“The Emperor himself was watching today. Did you notice?”
“Of course I noticed,” she replied, her voice suddenly tight. “How could I not?”
“And did you maintain your composure? Or did your hatred show on your face?”
“I maintained my cover,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Are you sure? Because one slip, one moment where the mask drops, and—”
“I know!” she hissed. “You think I don’t understand what’s at stake? It’s my vengeance we’re here for. My plan. My risk.”
“Not just yours,” I shot back. “I promised Tarus I would protect you. A vow I’m finding increasingly difficult to honour when you insist on throwing yourself into the most dangerous situation possible.”
“Ah, yes. Your sacred vow to Tarus. Is that why you’re still here, Septimus? To fulfil an obligation to a dead man?”
The bluntness of her words felt like a physical blow. “Don’t speak of him that way.”
“Why not? You invoke his name every time you want to control what I do. You hide behind your vow to him rather than admitting why you’re really here.”
“And why am I really here, Livia?” I stepped closer, anger building in my chest. “Since you seem to know my motivations better than I do.”
“I don’t know!” She threw up her hands in exasperation. “That’s the problem. You didn’t want this plan. You arguedagainst it from the start. And now you’re here, alternating between barely speaking to me and criticizing my every move. So tell me, Septimus — why did you come? Was it just your vow to my brother? Some misplaced sense of duty?”
“It’s not misplaced,” I growled.
“Then what is it? Why do you care so much? Why are you really here?”
“Because I want you safe, you impossible woman!” The words tore from me with more force than I intended. “Because despite how much you irritate me, despite how you drive me to madness with your recklessness and your stubbornness, the thought of you facing this alone—” I broke off, struggling to rein in emotions I’d kept locked away for too long.
Livia stared at me, her eyes wide with surprise at my outburst. “Septimus—”
“No.” I cut her off, stepping away to create distance between us. “We’re not having this conversation. Not now. Not here.”
“We are having this conversation,” she insisted, following me. “You can’t say something like that and then just—”
“I can and I will.” I turned to face her again. “We have more important matters to focus on.”
“More important than understanding why we’re here? Why we’re risking everything?” She shook her head. “I need to know, Septimus. I need to know if you’re here because of a vow to a dead man or because—”
“Because what?” I challenged, moving closer until I could see the flecks of gold in her brown eyes.
“Because you want to be,” she finished quietly.
The room seemed to shrink around us, the air suddenly thick with tension that had nothing to do with our argument. I was acutely aware of her proximity, of the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, of the pulse visible at the base of her throat.
“It’s both,” I admitted finally. “My vow to Tarus is part of it. I promised him I would protect you, and I will honour that until my dying breath.”
“And the other part?” she pressed.
