Her throat tightened. “The others didn’t tell you?”
“They did,” he said, his tone giving nothing away. “But I want to hear from you.”
She nodded, piecing together the chaos. “When Tia didn’t show for guard duty, Pinaria came to find me. We tracked her with Arnza and found Larth instead. A few soldiers had done a number on him.”
Dorias’ jaw flexed, but he stayed silent.
“I tried to reason with the cohort leader to avoid a fight. Itried. But when their legate showed up, and I saw his eye…” She faltered, heat crawling up her neck. “I lost it.”
That shimmering silver eye had hit her like a punch to the gut. Memories of the arena had come rushing back—fear, desperation, rage—Nik’s voice echoing in her head.
What was it Tyrrhenus had said? That he’d taken the eye himself?
Anger twisted in her chest. She should have gutted the bastard right there.
She bit into a red apple hard enough to make Dorias lift an eyebrow.
“He had the eye of an Amazon,” she said, her voice sharper than she intended. The thought of the stolen eye embedded in the Rasennan legate made her stomach turn.
Dorias let out a rough breath. “I know.”
Katell stared at him. “That’s all you have to say?”
“I forgot to tell you,” he said flatly. “Or maybe I didn’t think you’d react likethat.”
The words struck harder than she’d expected—not cruel, but careless. He refilled her cup with the same detachment he might use to discuss a patrol schedule, as though her bloodlust and the memories that had driven it were nothing more than a minor inconvenience.
Since the battle at the Green Mountains hillfort, they’d spent countless nights tangled in each other’s arms, trading truths about their pasts. He’d told her about Dalmatia—about the death of his family, his enslavement in the arena, the fights that nearly killed him, and his meeting with the Emperor.
She’d given him everything in return—stories of the Freefolk, her childhood with her father and Alena, her own time in the arena. She’d spoken of Sinope many times.
He knew how important the Amazon had been to her.
And still, he’d said nothing about Tyrrhenus?
She took the cup from him and drank, but the water did nothing to cool the heat still pulsing under her skin. “So, what’s my punishment?”
Dorias frowned. “Punishment?”
“I attacked alegate. I’m sure he asked for my head.”
He dragged a hand down his face, exhaustion carved into every line. Her frustration faltered.
How many hours had he spent behind closed doors, pulling strings, bargaining for her life and the Black Helmets’?
“The matter has been handled,” he replied gruffly.
It wasn’t the reassurance it should’ve been. If anything, the roughness in his tone twisted her gut. “Handled?How?”
His hesitation chilled her blood. “Dorias… who paid in my stead?”
He held her gaze for a long, unreadable moment before finally saying, “Larth.”
Her breath rushed out, fury flaring so fast she couldn’t contain it. She shoved the tray from her lap, plates clattering to the floor, and flung the blankets aside.
“Stars be damned, Dorias!” She snatched the fresh woollen tunic from the stool and pulled it over her head.
“He knows better than to summon his Gift,” Dorias said coolly. “He burned a man’s face off?—”
