Heir of the Gods

Ch. 14: A Secret Revealed

After her clash with Marcus and her moment with Julianus, Cassia had returned to the eastern sunroom and retrieved her book. But her desire to draw, or even simply think was muted by her fear.

Marcus wouldn't say anything about her affair with the general. Not out of anything so silly as kindness, but simply because it was more profitable for him to have something to hold over her—like a sword above her neck.

Lounging on a low couch, Cassia stared out the window toward the Tarmin, brooding. She had a small foothold. Marcus would be wary of her telling their father just how she had come to know of that morning's council. But only wary.

Marcus, she had learned long ago, was not truly afraid of anything. Not pain or death, not imprisonment or any other sort of punishment their father could bring down. He had a hatred for the whip, but that was simply borne of his pride.

Whether it was because he was more than slightly mad—which she was inclined to think—or some other reason only known to the prince himself, it still left her in the same predicament. 

Again and again in her mind she saw Julianus lunge forward, pure wrath in his eyes. Again and again she watched Marcus smile, the expression sharp and glittering as any blade.

The sun climbed higher, the warm light through the glass beginning to make her drowsy. The early mornings and hard training caught up to her in a wave of sudden exhaustion. She tucked her book between the cushions of the couch, leaving her body to shield it before she let herself succumb to heavy eyelids.

Cassia tumbled through dreams that first had Marcus before her father's whip, laughing every time another strip of his skin was laid open. Then it was Julianus, his face like stone. The whip cracked and more blood sprayed. She tried to scream at her father to stop, but the words froze in her throat and refused to budge, no matter how hard she tried.

Julianus' face never changed as flesh was flayed down to the bone.

A hand on her shoulder had Cassia's eyes flying open. She bolted upright, making Antonia squeak in alarm. Her attendant was wide-eyed when she asked, "Are you well, my lady?"

Cassia's chest heaved with rapid breaths, her gaze darting around the room as she tried to place where she was. Glass and sunlight surrounded her, the green smell of living things filling her nose. She flinched when Antonia lightly touched her shoulder again.

She met the other woman's golden-brown eyes, finding nothing but concern in them. After another moment to more thoroughly compose herself, she offered a weak smile. "I am fine. It was just a bad dream."

Antonia watched her for a moment, giving Cassia the opportunity to share what had made the dream so bad. Part of her desperately wanted to unburden her soul—wanted to let someone else in.

But there was too much risk. There was no one she could trust.

So she merely smiled again. Antonia shifted out of the way as Cassia swung her legs down to the ground. Patting at her hair, attempting to straighten the sleep-mussed strands, she asked, "What is the time?"

"Only around the twelfth hour, Your Highness," Antonia answered, still appearing concerned. "You've not slept very long. Perhaps a little over an hour."

She glanced at the smudges of shadow that had appeared beneath Cassia's eyes, the look on her face enough to say she thought Cassia would do well to sleep a little longer. Thankfully, she didn't voice this opinion.

Cassia nodded. That was just as well. Sleeping in a place any other than her rooms for an extended period of time seemed unwise. Antonia reached forward and fixed an unruly strand of hair. With a murmured thanks, Cassia stood and smoothed a hand down her skirt, the material soft under her fingers.