I nod slowly. “Have you spoken to your father?” That’s what he’s referring to. My none-too-subtle implication about Dimidius Quiscil, about his involvement in the attack.
“No. And not my father, anymore. As of two weeks ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugs. A careless kind of pain in the motion. “A father is a man who loves you, no matter what. Not all of us can have one.”
I think of my own father. I cannot describe how much I miss him.
“Only the lucky few,” I agree softly.
Indol’s eyes flick over my shoulder, and I twist to see a cloud of purple-slashed white togas approaching. He hesitates, then steps forward and embraces me enthusiastically. “I mean it. I’ll contact you,” he murmurs, and I feel the weight of a stylus drop into my pocket. He steps back. “Stronger together, Vis.”
“Stronger together.”
He leaves me and Aequa to the hovering swarm of sycophantic senators.
IT’S ALMOST A HALF HOUR LATER THAT I SPOT TERTIUSEricius coming toward us, trailed by men that I’ve seen him talking with—arguing with, I think—for much of that time. Sextus Amicus, the man currently gushing over our exploits in the race, all but trails off as he sees them before politely excusing himself. The other senators nearby vanish like mist before their approach.
“Tertius Ericius.” Suddenly uneasy as I take in the group’s demeanour. There’s a tension to it, an odd defensiveness.
An air that they’re about to deliver bad news.
Aequa exchanges a glance with me, shuffles a half step closer in solidarity. She’s seen it too. There are six men other than Callidus’s father, each with the purple stripe of office across their togas. Advenius, Aequa’s father, is among them.
They come to a stop a few feet away. Tertius Ericius limps into position at their head. He meets my gaze, then to my surprise, turns to Aequa.
“Aequa, isn’t it?” Polite, but stiff. “You may not remember, but we met a couple of years ago. You came to Villa Ericius with your parents for an evening.”
“I remember, Magnus Tertius. It’s nice to see you again.”
“And you. We were all very impressed with your performance today. You had some of the best Placement results out there. Easy to see why Catenicus chose you to be his teammate for the race. We expect to see great things from you over the coming years.” Aequa flushes at the compliment, but the Tertius doesn’t give her time to respond. “And we believe you will be best placed to do that as a Quintus.”
Aequa’s smile fades, and there’s an awkward lull as both she and I process the statement. Slow horror dawns on me as I understand.
“Me?” Aequa’s acting confused, though I can see her coming to the same realisation. Her gaze flicks to her father. A mixture of stunned and furiously embarrassed. “I’m … honoured, Tertius Ericius. Truly. But surely the Domitor of the Academy would be a better choice.” She motions to me, as if she thinks the group has somehow forgotten my credentials.
It’s all I can do not to react. To keep my eyes fixed firmly on Tertius Ericius. Aequa didn’t even blink. What she’s just been offered is an honour, coveted, something almost anyone in Governance would leap at the chance to get.
“We have chosen you.” The Tertius is firm, even as his eyes dart to me. Frustrated.
Aequa stands there. Hands limp by her side, lost. Bemused and flattered and angry. She finally looks across at me with such dismay, such helplessness, that in that instant I truly, deeply know—if I didn’t before—that I can trust her.
“And she is an excellent choice.” I manage to say it without wavering, without betraying shock or anger or protest. I hold her gaze. Make sure she sees I mean it. It doesn’t matter if I’m not a Quintus, not if she’s the one who takes the position instead. We can pursue our investigation together. I would have wanted to do that anyway, to tell her everything I’ve already told Eidhin, if the positions were reversed. “I can think of no one more deserving.”
A surprised silence, as if none of them can quite believe what they’re hearing.
“That is … gracious, Catenicus,” says Callidus’s father, glancing between Aequa and me as if trying to decipher a puzzle.
Aequa searches for confirmation in my eyes, then nods slowly. “It is.” She turns to Tertius Ericius, still looking half dazed from the turn of events. “Thank you, Tertius Ericius. It’s an honour.”
The Tertius exhales. I’m not sure if he’s relieved or frustrated by my lack of protest. “There are some documents you’ll need to fill out. If you’ll come with us?”
“Of course.” She hesitates. “May I speak with Catenicus for a moment, first?”
“Certainly.”
The men wander a short distance away and Aequa turns to me. Expression smooth, voice utterly mortified. “Vis. Gods’ graves. My gods-damned father. I’m so sorry.”
