II: Helene
The sun rises earlier than normal. Every muscle in my body itches to get up and move, to do something, anything. My training gear from yesterday sits in a heap at the foot of my bed but I pull it on anyway, ignoring the stiffness of the material from my lack of care. The armory is empty when I get there. At nearly 5am all the students would still be asleep. Weapons of all variety are strung up along the walls. Without sparing at glance at the axe in corner, the one that I used to nearly take Elias's head off, I choose a practice scim. Its wooden texture feels familiar in my hand and already I am a little more relaxed. The weapon weighs far less than the battle scims, and is usually used for Yearling training, but never the less it gets the job down.
The training rooms are just as empty as the armory. Without meaning to I stop behind the training room door labeled 3. This was always Elias's favourite training room. He said it has the best view of the Bell Tower. He was never wrong. From the far window you could see all the way up the tower, on clear days you could even see the Skulls sneaking around up top. Maybe he'll be in there, I imagine. I'll open the door and he'll mock me, with grin, that I'm always late.
But that's just a fantasy. He's not in that training room and he never will be again. Despite that my hand reaches out to linger against the knob. It's cold. No one has been in there in a while. I drop my hand and start back down the hall, instead choosing one of the training rooms that face the Barracks.
An hour later sweat rolls down my forehead in beads. Loose pieces of blonde hair fall free from my braid and into my face. The itch in my muscles has gone away, replaced by a dull satisfying ache. Stuffing has escaped from a gash in the battle dummy, coating the space around it in a thin layer of fuzz. I smile stupidly, despite myself, remembering when Leander and Elias made a competition out of who could pop off its eye with a single arrow. Shivers start to crawl up my spine rapidly. I don't have to turn around to know what's waiting for me.
"I would make a much better opponent then that sad dummy."
When nearly the entire academy is still asleep Marcus has to be and about. I ignore his comment, occupying my hands by repositioning the dummy for another attack.
"Come on Aquilla, don't you want a challenge," Marcus questions. His voice is unwavering and strong. He knows he has all the power. A dagger whizzes by my right ear and hits its mark in the dummies chest, right above where its heart would be. "You will answer your Emperor, Blood Shrike."
My title spills out of his mouth like poison. The scim in my hand creaks and nearly snaps in my grasp.
"Have something to say, Helene."
I stay frozen, my back turned to him. If I see his face I might be tempted to break it. Another dagger sails through the air hitting below in the other knife. The heart. I small strand of my pale hair shimmers in the morning sun as it drifts to the floor.
"I said answer me!"
I whirl on him. Marcus leans against the doorway, smirking, twirling another dagger against the tip of his finger. "Marcus," I spat.
"Emperor," He corrects pointing the tip of the dagger to my forehead. Marcus holds my gazing, challenging me. But I don't want to play this game with him.
"What do you want? Don't you have some business that needs the attention of the Emperor?" He snickers as I turn back around and start repositioning the dummy again.
"I can't check up on my Second?" The floor creaks as he takes a step into the training room. The dummy provides little resistance as I yank the dagger out of its chest and whirl around. The blade sinks into the wooden wall behind Marcus, less than an inch from hitting his head. His gaze holds firm on my mine. An eyebrow arches and he replies without a glance to the dagger behind him, "You missed."
"Lucky for you I did." He makes a noise somewhere between a hiss and chuckle that makes my skin crawl. "Next time I won't."
He lunges toward me, blade raised to my throat, but I'm expecting it. The second dagger from the dummy is already in my hand and pressed against Marcus's side before has time to react. "I see how it is," he mutters. Even with the blade a line slice away from cutting open his side he has the nerve to glance over me up and down. If Elias were here he'd kick Marcus's ass from here to Antium just for looking at me like that.
But he' not, and I don't need him to fight my battles.
"You underestimate me," I mutter back, forcing all my anger into the words.
Marcus's hair flops to the side as he tilts his head and smiles out of the corner of his mouth. "Just like Elias did."
He's taunting me. Whatever I do, whatever I threaten him with, he knows I could never go through with it. He's untouchable. Being his second in command means nothing; they'll still whip my back and break my bones if I lay finger in harm's way to the precious Emperor. I withdraw the dagger, letting it clatter to the floor. His smile grows. Marcus doesn't say anything; he knows nothing needs to be said. Despite all the fighting he still has me wrapped around his finger.
"Such as shame, really." My lips press in a thin line. "To have your skin beaten and scared, you would have made an exquisite pet." The words echo in the room making me gag. My cheeks liner with his stone heavy touch as his fingertips scrape up to rub a piece of my hair behind his finger tips. "Exquisite."
I fight to erger to break his nose. When his fingers fall away I can still feel the ghost of his touch.
Marcus bends down and when he straights back up, the long forgotten dagger is balanced in one hand. His gaze drops to the still untouched dagger for a few moments before shrugs and sheaths it in his belt. I don't flinch when his hand reaches back up below my chin. Or when he tips my face upward so I have to glare down my nose at him.
"You're always going to be my Second," he shouts. "Like it or not, so you better get used to it." I stare back at him, unwilling to say uncle. "I hold all the power here, you are my second -."
Marcus shuts his mouth and forms a frowns, then drops his hand away. A servant boy stands at the door to the training room looking like he wants to wet himself.
"What!" Marcus keeps his back to the boy.
The servants trembling increases until I can see his knees shaking with the effort to keep himself upright. "The Com -Commandant requested y-your presence," he pauses. "Sir Emperor."
"I'm a little busy here," Marcus snarls glancing down at the dagger as if thinking about slicing it across the boy's throat to stop the annoying trembling. Is he?
"S-She insisted, Sir."
Marcus glares out of the corner of his eye at the shaking kid. "Very well." He gazes back at me. "It seems I have business that needs the attention of the Emperor. Enjoy day, Helene." He pauses before addressing me by my name. The words still feel like acid on my skin. Without a sound, he slides out of the room, leaving me finally able to breathe.