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Stavros’s scowl comes back, but he lowers his hand. “Fine. But I’m waiting for her here.”
He stalks over to the doorway to the supply room to give us a little more space, though I can feel his gaze on me. I go over to join Casimir, pretending my heart doesn’t wrench at his bright smile.
The courtesan lowers his voice so it’s just for me. “Are you still coping with everything all right?”
I shrug as if rats made out of living clay are just another typical day. “Same as usual. Wishing we were making progress faster.”
He pauses, his gaze flicking to the floor and up again. “You were in the cafeteria this morning—you might have seen me with—”
A flush sears up my neck. I interrupt before he needs to barrel any farther into whatever unnecessary explanation he’s going to make. “It’s fine. I know what we did the other day was just a little fun. I’m not going to get offended.”
Is my heart aching like it’s been stabbed through? Absolutely. But that’s not Casimir’s fault.
He wets his lips, the movement of his tongue only provoking more heat I wish I could will away. “With all the commotion afterward, we never really talked about our tryst. If anything about it left you out of sorts, I’d want to know.”
The flush creeps up to my cheeks. Great God filet and fry me, has he been able to tell that I’ve fallen for him?
Have I been mooning over him despite my best efforts, and he’s trying to get me to admit it so he can let me down easy?
I force my tone to stay as cool and steady as possible. “There isn’t really anything to talk about. We both enjoyed ourselves, which was the whole idea, wasn’t it? I haven’t regretted it, if you’re worried about that.”
Gods smite me, hashehad regrets?
Before I need to grapple with that awful thought for more than a second, Casimir offers me a softer smile that sends a flutter I can’t suppress through my chest. “Good. Neither have I.”
He draws in a breath as if to say more, but I don’t know how long I can keep up my impression of nonchalance with him just a pace away, looking at me with those compassionate eyes in that gorgeous face.
“Then all’s well,” I say briskly. “I’d better not leave Stavros waiting any longer, or he might explode, and that would be quite a mess.”
I say the last bit loud enough that the man in question hears it and lets out a derisive snort. With a bob of my head farewell, I hurry back to the former general’s side.
Julita makes a puzzled sound.Ivy, you have to know Cas would never do anything to hurt you. He really is concerned.
I know he is. But with who we are and how I can’t help feeling, his kindness hurts almost as much as cruelty would.
Twelve
Ivy
The hum of the Temple of the Crown’s magic wraps around me as I gaze up at the immense marble building. I restrain a shiver at the sensation.
The gold spires of the four towers—three at the corners and the one in the middle that looms twice as high—shine as impressively as always. There’s no sign that a week ago, a sorcerer of the most reviled sort of magic attempted to carry out a horrific purpose from that central tower.
If I’d had any doubt that the All-Giver abandoned our continent after punishing the first rise of scourge sorcery with fiery retribution, the scene before me would erase it. How could the One who is all things be here andnothave noticed a mortal carrying out such horrific work in one of the grandest temples on the continent, in the tower dedicated to the highest of all divine powers?
I’d wonder why the lesser gods the All-Giver created haven’t noticed either, but clearly at least one of them has. Kosmel helped me direct the backlash of my unpredictable magic while I knocked down Wendos.
Why haven’t the godlen intervened further? Is Kosmel up to something, and he’s hidden what’s happened from the others?
Are they all waiting, giving us mortals a chance to set things right on our own? Poised to rain down more punishment if we can’t prevent the scourge sorcerers from going too far?
I don’t know where they might draw the line. We could be teetering on the edge of a second Great Retribution right now.
Which doesn’t make me feel any keener to step inside those pale marble walls devoted to all nine of the godlen as well as their creator. But I’ve got my part to play in the whole mission to set things right.
Benedikt passed on word through Stavros that a couple of the bug club members from Wendos’s group played a few hands in the cards room last night… and mentioned that they were planning to make appeals to their godlen at the grand temple this morning.
Stavros decided we would spendourmorning strolling the outer field near the main entrance marking out spots for future strategic exercises. At least, until I spotted the two students I was watching for making their way out of the college.
