He quickly recovered. “I can get you past the guards at the entrance, but you’ll be on your own after that.”
“I’ll be ready.”
“Gibzen is off duty.” Quintus ducked back into the tent. “Just saw him heading into Aracam with a few of his men. Which isn’t to say those standing guard now are going to let you by, but the chances are better.” He looked her up and down. “On second thought, the odds might be fairly good. You clean up nicely, my friend.”
“This isn’t going to work.”
“If it doesn’t work, then we’ll know for certain that Marcus’s brain has gone to mush.”
Before she could lose what limited confidence she had, Teriana ducked out of the tent and started toward the fortress. The silk of her skirts tangled around her legs, and her feet ached in the high heels on the delicate shoes, but she strode past gaping men as though this were how she dressed all the time.
Nic fell in alongside of her. “I cannot believe that I’ve spent half my life learning military strategy andthis”—he gave her a look—“is my first move.”
“I don’t like it any more than you do.”
“Hopefully it works.” He frowned. “It wouldn’t work on me.”
Teriana was too nervous to be insulted. Her hands curled into fists, nails digging into her palms, because this feltwrong.Marcus trusted her, and she was exploiting that. Yet she also knew that she’d stepped into the arena with the most powerful individuals alive, and the stakes were high. She couldn’t afford to hang her hat on morals when everyone else in the game seemed devoid of them.
Teriana swallowed hard as she drew closer to the doors, the guards to either side straightening. But Nic’s presence at her side seemed to quell any questions they had, and they swung open the double doors, allowing them to enter.
Once inside, Nic said, “Good luck,” then turned left down a side corridor, leaving her alone.
Teriana didn’t answer, only focused on keeping the narrow heels beneath her feet steady on the tile as she walked down the hallway,theclick, clickdeafening. Ahead, the doors to the command room were shut, two of the Thirty-Seventh out front. Their eyebrows rose at the sight of her, and one said, “What’s with the dress?”
“Apparently the Senate included gifts for me in the Fifty-First’s supplies. Unless you think this outfit was meant for you?”
Both guards laughed, shaking their heads.
“Is he in there?”
“Yes,” one answered, “but…” He exchanged a weighted look with the other guard, who shrugged.
“Did he give orders not to be disturbed?”
“No, but…”
“Then let me through.” Pushing between them, Teriana shoved at the door. It swung open more easily than she’d anticipated, and she lunged to catch the edge to keep it from slamming into the wall, nearly falling as her heel bent sideways.
Flustered, she carefully closed the door, and then took a deep breath and turned around.
Marcus sat at the far end of the table, head resting in his hands, a bottle sitting next to him. “What do you want?” His voice was low and rough.
Teriana’s pulse roared, sweat dampening her palms. “Do you want me to leave?”
He jerked upright, eyes widening at the sight of her. “Teriana. I… Apologies, I thought you were—”
“I pushed past the guards at the door, so don’t take my presence out on them.”
He didn’t answer, only watched as she walked down the length of the table toward him. His eyes were red-rimmed, the grey-blue hazed with far,fartoo much wine, but there was no denying thewantin them. The heat in his gaze sent a thrill dancing over her skin and made her realize that part of her feared that Marcus no longer wanted her. Feared that he’d committed to the end of their relationship so thoroughly that he’d erased all sentiment for her from his soul.
“The Senate sent me gifts.” She lifted the wrist that bore a heavy gold bracelet. “A touch impractical.”
His head tilted, eyes roving over her with a strange mixture of longing and loathing. “Clothing is a method of assimilating the conquered,” he said softly. “Are you conquered, Teriana?”
“No.” She pulled off the bracelet and dropped it on the table. “I’m not.”
“Then why are you wearing it?”
