by Jenna Moreci
Go to him.
Blazing white surrounded Her before fading to black brick. She stood in the center of the labyrinth, the light of the sanctuary shining ahead, laughter echoing off the walls. She brushed out Her locks and ventured forward.
The men were roused in a way She hadn’t seen before, wrestling along the floor, guffawing until they couldn’t breathe. Most circled the fire pit roasting slabs of meat, their faces clammy and red. Ceramic jugs sat by the fire, and copper chalices littered the space, tipped and spilling with wine.
Drunk as a bunch of skunks.
A giggle bounced across the sanctuary. Pippa waddled through the space, an unwieldy jug in her hands, and she topped off Caesar’s chalice, splashing wine over his arm.
“Pippa.” Leila rushed to her side, snatching the jug and setting it down. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m feeding the boys!”
“I didn’t order you to come down here.”
“Of course not. Rom did.”
Leila glowered. “You do not take orders from that man. He is not above you.”
“He said it was a very important task. The Sovereign ordered wine and meats for all the boys. We’re celebrating the Giant’s win!”
Tobias sat by the fire pit, his body marked with gashes and bruises, a disheveled mess of a man who left Leila weightless. His allies surrounded him, pestering and prodding while he gnawed ravenously at a goose leg.
He caught Her gaze, and pink billowed from his flesh like organza.
Pippa jutted her head over Leila’s shoulder. “What are we looking at?”
Leila swallowed, fighting back a grin. “I have matters to tend to. Will you be all right on your own?” Pippa offered a hasty nod before frolicking away, and Leila’s heartbeat surged. She stared at Tobias, allowing Her gaze to speak for Her.
Follow Me.
She wove through the sanctuary and into Her tent, abandoning Her cloak and straightening Her dress—a plum, sleeveless gown, not Her favorite, but the color suited Her skin. Taking in a deep breath, She waited.
Nothing.
What if he wasn’t coming?
Busying Herself, She dumped Her satchel’s contents onto the table, organizing it into something half-presentable. He was coming. He had to. As the passing seconds nipped at Her nerves, a hesitant voice sounded from outside.
“Leila?”
Tobias. She cleared Her throat. “Come in.”
The air shifted, heavier with his presence. She waited for him to speak, trying to predict his sweet nothings. Leila, finally, we’re alone. But there was only silence, and when She glanced over Her shoulder, his face was twisted with…bewilderment, perhaps?
“Are you all right?”
He shook himself. “Apologies. I just had a very strange encounter, is all.”
She turned away. “Well, go on then, close the door. Or the flap. Whatever you call it. I’m not particularly tent savvy.”
He headed into the space. “I wanted to thank you. I wouldn’t have won without your help. These men, they should be lifting you on their shoulders.”
She spun toward him. “You can’t tell them.”
“I won’t. I just need you to know that,” he said. “I’m alive because of you.”
The tension within Her released. She patted the stool beside Her. “Come. Sit.”
As he situated himself, She wetted a rag and brought it to his dirtied chest.
“You don’t have to—”
She swatted his hand away, dabbing at the clay. Wipe by wipe, Her mark disappeared, while Tobias remained silent, his eyes faraway.
“You’re quiet,” She said.
“I’m thinking.”
“Of?”
“You’ve done so much for me. And I fear I can never repay you.”
Her mind drifted to his portraits, and She smiled. “You’ve done things for me.”
“Not enough.”
“More than you know.”
“Still, what you did today, with the blessing…” He studied Her sidelong. “You put yourself at risk, helping me the way you did.”
“It was no trouble.”
“That isn’t true.”
“It is.”
“You’re lying.”
The sharpness of his words halted Her.
“How long have you had that clay in your satchel?” He cocked his head at Her bag. “Yet you waited until the last possible second to share it with me, not because you’re impartial or uncaring, but because you didn’t think it an option. Until you made it one.”
“You jump to conclusions.”
“Say what you will, but I saw that look in your eye. You’ve put yourself at risk. Made some kind of grave sacrifice. You don’t have to admit it, but know I don’t take it for granted.”
Panic rose in Her chest, and Her defenses crumbled, turning to rubble at Her feet. “Just, please… You can’t tell anyone.”
He furrowed his brow. “I won’t.”
“I had nothing to do with it. If people were to find out—”
“You have my word.”
“You couldn’t possibly understand the danger—”
“You have my word,” he said. “No one will ever know. I swear it.”
Her anxieties ate at Her gut, threatening to consume Her whole. What if She’d made a terrible mistake?
Tobias’s face fell. “Do you think I’d betray you? The woman who saved my life?” He took Her hand. “I am not that man.”
His thumb glided across Her knuckles, another gentle caress like the one from the holding cell. Her spiking nerves retracted, placated if for a moment.
“Be still.” She pulled away from him. “Let’s have a look at these marks.”
He glanced down at the long gash cutting through his chest. “More stitches?”
“Unnecessary. These wounds are superficial.” Grabbing a perfume vial at random, She doused Her hands. “They just need a bit of attention, is all.”
“Well, take as much time as you need…or maybe longer.”
His voice traveled along Her skin in tremors. Straining to focus, She pressed Her perfumed hand to the gash.
Mend the flesh. Warmth flooded from Her fingertips, and his eyes shrank into lazy slits.
“You must be exhausted.” She chuckled. “You’ll sleep like a rock tonight.”
“Not soon enough. I’m expected to celebrate with everyone else.”
“The trials and tribulations of a champion. I’m surprised you’re of sound mind. I assumed you’d be drunk with the rest of them.”
“God no.” He shook his head. “No wine for me. Never again.”
“Why’s that?”
“I suppose I’ve lost the taste for it.”
“It’s not poisoned,” She said.
“Still. Once is enough.”
Nodding, Leila pressed Her palms against his slashed ribs. “You were quite impressive, you know. Very creative, using the mirrors as you did. And the blessing, of course.” She studied him out of the corner of Her eye. “Is it weighing on your conscience, like you had imagined? Killing Antaeus.”
“Would you judge me if I said it wasn’t?”
“The murderous shit deserved to die. He’ll get no pity from me.”
A long silence passed before Tobias spoke. “My mother and sister… They were there. Watching.”
The battle replayed through Her mind—the blood splattering the sands, the specters in the mirrors—and She closed Her eyes to rid Herself of the visions. “I would’ve warned you had I known. It was a cruelty I hadn’t predicted. To make your family watch and pass it as privilege… God, it’s vile.”
“I’ve been consumed. Milo died. I’ve nearly died. So much has happened.” His eyes grew larger. “I don’t want them seeing me like this. As a killer.”
“You’re good, Tobias. They know that. Today changes nothing.”
He sank into his seat as if released from a burden. Washing Her hands clean, She thought back to the battle, laug
hing to Herself.
“What?” Tobias said.
“Nothing.”
“Say it.”
She bit Her lip. “I just can’t believe you kicked him in the ass.”
“Are you upset I didn’t punch him in the cock as you suggested?” He chuckled. “Perhaps that’s why you didn’t enjoy the fight. Not nearly enough cock-punching. I’ll remember that next time. I wouldn’t want to disappoint you again.”
She lost Herself in a fit of giggles. “You’re bad.”
“You just said I was good.”
“I take it back. Rotten to the core. That’s what you are.”
His laughter traveled through Her, making Her stand taller. He was fond of Her. She didn’t need his colors to confirm, as She could see it in his gaze, could hear it his voice. She pored over Her perfumes, trying to find Her next useless potion, while his eyes traced Her figure like a soft caress.
She reached toward his bloodied lip, and he jerked away, dodging Her touch.
His eyes widened. “No, Leila, I’m so sorry. It’s not you, trust me. It’s not you at all.” He cradled his face in his hands. “Goddammit…”
“It’s all right.” Though Her flaming cheeks said otherwise. “Things are…complicated. But I do have to touch you.”
Sighing, he dropped his hands, and Leila tapped Her fingers against his fat lip, filling it with Her blessing.
Ease the pain. Perhaps the embarrassment as well.
“I’m supposed to be here for a specific purpose,” he mumbled.
“As am I.”
“And I’m finding myself…distracted.”
She forced Herself to speak. “As am I.”
Quiet wedged between them, and She instantly regretted Her response.
Tobias cleared his throat. “What I said before the battle…”
“Emotions were high. If you didn’t mean it—”
“I meant it,” he said. “Every word. But truthfully, I fear what would happen if anything were to come of it.”
“Yes, well…we share that fear.”
Retreating, She distracted Herself with Her perfumes. This is a mistake. There were too many variables, and his reservations only fueled Her own. She wanted to curse Her naivety, to berate Herself for even entertaining the thought. Instead, She squared Her shoulders, bracing Herself for their harsh reality.
“I suppose this means we have a decision to make,” She said.
“What’s that?”
“Whether we should commit to our original purpose or remain distracted.”
Tobias didn’t respond.
“You don’t have to decide right now,” She added. “Take your time. Think it through.”
“What about you? This decision isn’t mine alone.”
“I’ll be thinking it through as well.”
She pressed Her thumb against his sliced brow, summoning Her light, while Tobias stared back at Her, befuddlement written across his face.
“What’s that look for?” She said.
“I don’t want to say.”
“Well, you have to now.” She crossed Her arms and waited, each passing second a knife to Her pride. “Fine. Be silent.” She prodded at his eyebrow. “God forbid you answer a simple question.”
“This is shit,” he spat. “I’m losing you before we’ve even begun. How is that right? God, this tournament. How is this fair? We want the same thing.”
Leila froze, paralyzed by his heated stare, his shallow breathing. Don’t do it, but She dragged Her fingers through his hair anyway, taking a hesitant look inside. Colors bombarded Her—pinks and oranges, layers upon layers of longing, each one aimed exclusively at Her.
His stare hadn’t wavered, except now it was different. Yearning. As he came in closer, Her throat caught.
Is he going to kiss Me?
The tent flap flung open, and Leila jammed Her fingernail into Tobias’s brow.
“Shit,” he hissed.
Leila spun toward their visitor—a drunken Flynn. “Dammit, you can’t just barge in here without permission!”
“Apologies,” he said.
“Fuck your apologies. You startled me.” She pointed to Tobias. “Look, he’s bleeding now. It’s your fault, you know.”
“I was just checking on our champion.” Flynn glowered at Tobias. “You’re missing your celebration.”
“Yes, well, I’m a little occupied, as you can see,” Tobias said.
“Will it be much longer?”
“Only if you keep interrupting.” Leila crossed Her arms. “Do you think he’s sitting here for his own pleasure? That we’re just making idle conversation?”
“Well, move it along, you two. Before all the wine is gone.”
“Go,” Leila growled.
Flynn disappeared from the tent—thank God—and She snatched up Her rag, dabbing at the blood on Tobias’s face.
“You did that on purpose,” he mumbled.
“You’re welcome.”
An unsettling quiet followed, a weight Leila hadn’t the patience to manage. Say something. “Can I ask you a question?”
“You can ask a hundred if you’d like,” he said.
“Have you always known it? That you’re an artist?” Tobias nodded, and Leila grinned. “I thought so.”
“Just felt right,” he said. “Like it was what I ought to be doing all the time. Most people can’t understand that.”
“That’s because most people aren’t destined for anything.” She wiped down Her perfumes, occupying Her restless hands. “Unless you count banality as destiny. Take Caesar, for example. He’s destined to cling to his royal ancestry as a means of entitlement. To inherit his family’s fortune, then waste it on wine and brothels. Probably destined to get some unseemly infection too.”
His laughter slinked through Her, loosening Her muscles. “It must be hard,” She said. “Not being able to do what you’re meant for. I imagine it’s something like a heartache. Like being torn from someone you love.”
“Have you always known you’re a healer?”
Light tickled Her fingertips, and She smiled. “Just felt right.”
“Then I envy you. For getting to live your life’s purpose.”
His words brought the reality of Her existence crashing down on Her. “Don’t envy me so quickly. We all have our own troubles.”
Why is this so difficult? Cosima always made it look easy, could charm a man in her sleep, yet here Leila stood debating duty versus pleasure. Perhaps this wasn’t a good idea—a complication She couldn’t afford—but once She caught the path of Tobias’s fixed gaze, all Her worries shifted into dread.
Her blade. He was staring at it, and visions of their previous evening flitted through Her mind—of secrets She hadn’t intended to reveal.
“You’re just never going to mention it again,” She said.
Tobias looked away. “Mention what?”
“What you said in the labyrinth. When we were training.” When Tobias didn’t respond, Leila sighed. “I’m not a saint.”
His frame stiffened. “You’ve killed.”
“I imagine it bothers you.”
“Why would it bother me? I’ve killed too.”
“You make light of the situation? Like it’s nothing?”
“I’ve seen you, Leila. Who you are. You’re certainly not to be toyed with, but you’re compassionate. And you’re kind.” His gaze drifted. “If you’ve killed…then I suppose it’s because they left you no choice.”
“They? You believe it’s happened more than once?”
“Am I wrong?”
She sucked in shallow breaths and stared at the floor.
“Moments ago, you were fearful for your life. Speaking of some incredible danger, one you clearly don’t feel comfortable sharing with me.” He worked his way into Her line of sight. “I may be ignorant to the specifics…but I assume these things are related, yes?”
She nodded.
“Then there’s nothing left to be said. I took a life
to protect my own. How could I fault you for doing the same?”
“You could fault me if you please. It’s human nature to revile.”
“You fear I’d judge you?” Tobias leaned in closer. “Look at me.”
“It’s all right.”
“Leila, look at me, please.” He waited for Her to comply. “In the holding cell, before the fight…you said I’d choose the darkness.” He took her hand, entwining his fingers with Hers. “You were right. I’m choosing darkness.”
Her shoulders tightened. “I told you…you should take time to think.”
“I’ve thought enough. Now it’s your turn. What’s your choice?”
This is a mistake, but that didn’t stop Her from reveling in his touch. Cinnamon and sugar—She could taste it each time She breathed him in, and when She pulled free from His hold, swirls of pink sat in his hand. She dragged Her fingers through the palmful of color and up his forearm, tracing spirals in his longing.
“Tobias, you limp cock, hurry the fuck up!” Flynn’s voice tore through the tent, and She jerked away.
Tobias cringed. “I should go.”
Her heart fired off as he stood from his seat. This wasn’t how it was supposed to end. Then their eyes locked, and She could’ve sworn he hesitated, was leaning in.
“Artist!” Flynn spat.
“I’m coming, you stupid shit!” Tobias barked over his shoulder. His cheeks flushed. “Apologies.”
He made his way across the tent, Her hopes snuffed until he stopped short. “Leila?” He turned to Her. “Will you be joining us?”
“I wasn’t going to…” His face dropped, and She quickly corrected Herself. “But I can. Make my rounds, I mean.”
“Well, if during your rounds, you somehow found yourself in my company…it would make the evening worthwhile.”
As soon as he left, She cursed aloud. She was terrible at this. And what good did it serve Her anyway? There was a traitor in Her realm and many more in Her own fortress, yet here She stood fretting over the affections of an artist. Tobias was a complication, and She didn’t need any more of those in Her life.
But he wanted Her, and She wanted him right back.
She packed Her things and headed into the sanctuary with everyone else. Pippa walked at Her side, slinging an arm around Her waist, and Leila tried to appreciate her playful company. Most of the men circled the fire pit, some fiddling with cards, others lost in their inebriation, while Tobias sat in conspicuous silence.