I eyed the recruits as we passed, each one quietly assessing me. Did they know who I was? That I’d been in the dungeons since before most of them were born? I cracked a grin at a male as he looked over me, curious if he had the balls to approach, to act on that judgmental stare. None of them came forward.
I huffed a laugh. Pitiful.
“What happened?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at me.
“I got thrown in the dungeons,” I deadpanned. “Did my file not say that?”
“Yes, it did, but I was hoping you could tell me more.”
“Look, Lucia.” I drew in a deep breath, irritation boiling in my chest, like a flame ready to be unleashed. She was so focused on digging up information on what happened. Why? It wasn’t any of her business, and it wasn’t as if it would change anything. “I appreciate everything you’re doing, but I don’t see the point. I killed my parents. The files didn’t lie about that.”
“I understand their deaths; that isn’t the issue. What I want to know is what led to that, what truly transpired that night,” she said, turning to me.
I didn’t respond, wondering if she would throw me back in the cell if I didn’t answer, or if she would throw me back in the cell if Idid—if all this was just some elaborate ruse to further drag out the misery of my sentence.
“You don’t have to tell me now. It’s difficult to talk about the past, I know.” Her eyes dipped briefly, and I couldn’t help but feel like something lingered in them, as if she was reliving something in her own past. “We have all the time in the world, though. In the meantime...” She turned away from me, beckoning to a male who trained with another nearby. “Micah!”
His brown brows rose, and he halted mid-swing before dismissing his sparring partner. He was shorter than me by a few inches but well-built. His brown hair was a mess of sweaty curls, and as he approached us I could faintly smell juniper and sage. A dendron wielder, perhaps? They always tended to smell like plants or flowers.
He dipped his head briefly to Lucia, his breath heavy as he spoke. “Your Majesty?”
She crossed her arms, and one corner of her lips tipped up. “Micah, you know better.”
He smiled guiltily. “Sorry, Lucia. What can I do for you?”
“I have a new recruit I’d like you to meet,” she said, lifting her hand to me.
He looked me over briefly. I was so fucking tired of the assessments. “Thalia already started with the new recruits yesterday?—”
“He won’t be following their training schedule. He has some experience, and I’d like you to see where he falls,” Lucia explained, as she glanced back at me. “I want to know what he’s made of.”
Micah gave a nod. “I can do that.” He turned to look at me. “Any former training?”
I crossed my arms across my chest. “I killed a guard once.”
Lucia let out a sigh and rubbed her hand over her face.
“Wait.” Micah’s eyes flitted from me to her. “Is he the one you spoke of last night?”
Lucia placed her hand on her hip. “Yes, this is Barrett Stratos.”
“Shit,” Micah said, and I prepared myself for the insults, for the judgment to be dished out. He cracked a smile. “Heard you took out three guards unarmed.”
I frowned, unsure how to take the... Was he complimenting me?
“Yeah,” I said. “I wanted some peace and quiet, and they wouldn’t shut their mouths, so I shut em’ for them.”
He huffed a laugh. “How’d you get out early?”
“Good behavior,” I said dryly.
Micah cocked an eyebrow at Lucia. “Why do I have a hard time believing that?”
Lucia smiled. “Ipulled him out. He was up for execution in a month.” My heart stalled. Execution? They hadn’t told me that. When I had been sentenced, it was for life. “I stumbled across a record of his hearing the other day, and something didn’t feel right.”
I forced my expression into one of indifference. “She thinks I’m some sort of saint. Perhaps I’m a messenger sent by Celestia herself, come to deliver us from the darklings.”
Lucia shook her head and looked at Micah. “Can you get him started for me? I have to meet with Damien to discuss some news from the Godsrealm. I fear someone is reorganizing The Pits in Tenebria.”
