Finally, the king lifted a thumb up with a frown, and the onlookers broke into applause.
Thanos couldn’t believe it. Ceres and he had survived. They had survived!
He looked over at Ceres, feeling drops of sweat dripping from his hair and down his face. He nodded, and when she smiled, it was as if in that instance, the victory was complete.
He stared at her, stunned. She had saved his life more than once, and had done it in a way he did not understand.
And for the first time since he’d met her, he was beginning to wonder.
Who was she?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
A tear rolled down Ceres’s cheek as her fingers carefully skimmed the weapons laid out on tables in the practice arena. Amidst the twilight she heard laughter and music spilling out from the open palace windows, every royal inside those haughty walls celebrating today’s great victories. It made her feel more alone than ever. It made her miss her brothers, her father, her home, Rexus, dearly. It made her mourn for the mother she’d never had.
Ceres paused and listened to the wind sighing through the trees, as she looked up and saw a few stars twinkling down on her. She inhaled the fresh air, the scent of roses and lilies filling her nostrils. The quiet was a welcome friend after the roaring crowd at the Stade. Even if she had been invited to the feast, she wouldn’t have wanted to accept, having no desire to mingle with those pompous royals who were congratulating each other for a battle Thanos and she had won.
Thanos. Her insides coiled tightly when she thought of how he hadn’t even bothered to see her after the Killings. There was no “thank you.” No “job well done.” But she didn’t need his approval or his praise, she reminded herself. She didn’t need anyone.
Upset with herself for allowing such ludicrous melancholy, she wiped the tears from her cheeks, picked up a spear, and walked to the center of the practice arena.
Swinging the spear overhead, she whirled it around until a swooshing sound could be heard. She then hurled it at a training dummy, hitting it right on the center of the smallest circle. She smiled.
Feeling much lighter, she meandered over to the table again and picked out a sword – one that reminded her of her own, its blade thin and long, its hilt bronze and gold.
Lunging forward, she pretended to attack Lucious – the coward – her sword moving with deftness, her attention and anger on her imaginary enemy.
Keep light afoot. She jumped. Attack and defend. She lunged. Be fluid like water, strong like a mountain. It was what her trainers at the palace had pounded into her. And it was what she had practiced for hours and months and years.
“After today, I would have thought you’d be tucked in bed, falling fast asleep.”
She turned with a start to find Thanos stepping out from behind a willow tree, smiling.
Ceres lowered her sword and turned toward him, her cheeks hot with embarrassment. She saw he wore a loose linen shirt, the neck open, and dark curls framed his face. She tried to hate him in this moment.
But somehow her heart had warmed with his presence.
“I could say the same to you,” she said, raising an eyebrow, hoping he wouldn’t notice her racing heart.
“I was about to – but then I heard someone practicing in the arena below my room.”
She looked up the tower to the balcony, his door open, red curtains dancing in the wind.
“I’m sorry I kept you up, my lord,” she said, looking back at him.
“Thanos, please,” he said, bowing toward her, keeping eye contact.
He smiled and took a step toward her.
“You weren’t really keeping me up. I left the party as soon as I could to look for you, and that’s when I saw you from my balcony,” he said.
“Why were you looking for me?” she asked, trying to ignore the nervous energy that pulsed through her.
“I wanted to thank you for today,” he said.
She stared at him blankly for a moment, trying to hold onto the anger for him that was quickly vanishing.
“What brilliant skill you have,” he said. “You have been taught well.”
She wouldn’t reveal she had been dressing up as a boy, training with the combatlords at the palace. He could report her. And he would, wouldn’t he? They might be allies in the arena, but in the real world, they were enemies.
“My father was a bladesmith,” she said, hoping he wouldn’t pry anymore into her training.
He nodded.
“And where is he now?” Thanos asked.
Ceres looked down, thoughts of her father hundreds of miles away weighing heavily on her mind.
“He had to take work elsewhere,” she whispered.
“I’m sad to hear, Ceres,” Thanos said, stepping even closer.
She wished he would stay away, for when he was this close, it was hard to consider him her nemesis and to despise him so.
“And what of your mother?” he asked, watching her closely.
“She tried to sell me into slavery,” Ceres admitted, thinking there was no harm in telling him the truth about her mother.
He nodded once, and squeezed his lips together.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
It irritated her that he apologized for that. A prince. It was partly his fault her father hadn’t been paid enough at the palace and needed to look for work elsewhere.
“How are your wounds?” she asked, walking over to the table and placing the sword on it, hoping to steer the conversation onto safer subjects.
“They’ll heal,” he said as he followed after her.
Standing next to her, his arms folded, he studied her face for a moment.
“How did you do that?” he asked.
“What?” Ceres said.
“Out in the arena today. First, you threw me a shield. I have never heard of a wolver, let alone that any animal could spew flames.”
She shrugged her shoulders.
“I had heard of wolvers from my father,” she fibbed.
“Then, my sword…it was lodged in the wolver’s skull,” he said, his eyes squinting. “You raised your hand and the blade jutted into my hand with this force – ”
“I did no such thing!” Ceres interrupted him, backing away, afraid he was onto her.
He glanced at her with kind eyes and cocked his head to the side.
“Are you saying I imagined it?” he asked.
She balked. Was he trying to trap her? She needed to choose her words carefully or she could be thrown into prison for implying he was a liar.
“I am certain I don’t know what you are talking about,” she said.
His eyebrows knitted together and he opened his mouth as if to speak, but instead, he stepped toward her, placed a hand on her shoulder, and let it slide down her arm.
A delightful shiver went through Ceres, and she loathed how her body betrayed her so.
“No matter,” he said. “Thank you, though. Your selections of weapons made all the difference.”
“Yes, perhaps your lovely hair would have been singed off had I not offered the shield,” she said with a smirk, trying to make light of the situation.
“You think I have lovely hair?” he asked.
Her breathing staggered, and she couldn’t understand how she could have let such a flippant comment escape her lips.
“No,” she said rather sharply, folding her arms in front of her chest.
His lips twitched.
“Well, then, I don’t think you have beautiful eyes, either,” he said.
“Then it’s settled.”
He nodded and Ceres walked over to a willow tree.
“It’s getting late,” she said.
“Perhaps I may escort you home?” he said, following her again.
Ceres lowered her gaze and shook her head.
“Or perhaps you need a place to stay?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Should she tell him the truth? If she didn’t, she knew she would have to sleep outdoors every night.