The sound of stone beneath wheels fills the space between us; I’m tempted to let it continue, but I’m going to be working with Livia for the foreseeable future. I need to establish some sort of rapport. “So. Have you been through these tests?”
“Of course.” Dismissive. Treating it as a stupid question rather than me trying to open a conversation. I try not to bristle.
“What were they like?”
“Simple enough.” Still not turning from her inspection of the city slipping by. I think she’s going to leave it at that, then she sighs. “You’ll need to demonstrate your strength. How much you can lift when you self-imbue. Then whether you can imbue objects, and how many at the same time. Whether you need line of sight to maintain it. That sort of thing.”
“Those seem like strange skills to test for Placement. They can all be improved with training, can’t they?”
“The point is to measure your natural ability,beforeyou can practice.” Her impatience says this should be obvious. “Think of Placement as measuring your … ceiling, in terms of talent. The results will follow you for the rest of your life.”
“Sounds like I should make an effort, then.” I force a grin.
It doesn’t have the desired effect. Livia’s eyes narrow. “Everything you do from now on is a reflection on Governance, Catenicus. On my father. So yes. You gods-damned well should.”
The creak and clatter of the carriage settles between us once again.
“Have I … done something to offend you?” I’m at a loss. I didn’t expect to be treated like family, but I was her brother’s friend.
“Why would you think that?”
“Because … you seem to be a little … confrontational?”
“Would you prefer I was intimidated?”
“Would it make you more civil?”
Livia’s lips twist into a scowl. She stares ahead grimly.
I throw up my hands. “Look, we have to work together. If you have a problem with me, now is the time to air it.”
“My problem?” Livia doesn’t look at me. Her cheeks are flushed with anger. “My problem is that I don’t trust you. Not even slightly.”
“Your brother did.”
“And now he’s dead.” She finally turns to glare at me. Her eyes glisten. Her voice is ice. “He’sdead, Catenicus, and you are using my father’s grief to get revenge for it. You may be a hero. But what is the point of heroes if they don’t save the ones you love?” The crack in her voice is sadness and frustration and emptiness. She turns back to her window, and every line of her body is stiff with pointed disinterest in my presence or further conversation. “It doesn’t matter. You will fail today, your star will fall, and soon enough you will be gone from my family’s lives forever.”
I watch her. Open my mouth to speak. Think better of it. Nothing I say will help, right now. Sometimes people simply need time.
And sometimes, not even that works.
We roll toward my Placement examination in grim, uncomfortable silence.
XXI
OFTEN, RECENTLY, I HAVE FOUND MYSELF THINKING OFthe month Emissa and I trained together on Suus. She would beat me at so many things. Again, and again. Despite all I’d achieved until that point, I would struggle to keep pace, and through even the joy of her company, knowing just how much I needed to improve would so often weigh heavy.
One day on the golden beach below my ancestral home, she came upon me lost in a moment of bleak introspection. Saw the expression on my face before I could hide it. “Are you alright?” Our friendship strong enough to ask. Our romance too new for anything but a tentative enquiry.
I gave a grin that was mostly unforced, thanks to the sight of her. “Just respecting the work ahead.”
“‘Respecting.’ Of course.” Her eyes reflected both her smile and her empathy. She sat next to me in the soft, warm sand. Hip and shoulder to mine. “None slower than the impatient, you know.”
“What?”
“Sorry.” She gave a deprecating half laugh at herself. “Just something my tutor used to say. Usually after my father passed through for his weekly critique. He used to tell me that I was so worried about being good enough, it was distracting me. That I was so focused on where I needed to be, I couldn’t see the space in between. ‘Improvement is not a destination,’ and all that.” She shrugged. Light and casual and dismissive of her own wisdom. “I don’t think that’s you. But it doesn’t hurt to be reminded, now and then, either.”
We sat for a while after, and I stared out across the glittering Aeternum in contemplation and memory. Then we went back to training, and though she had not said anything I did not already know, she was right. Step-by-step is the only way to progress. I felt calmer for the reminder.
