‘What happ-?’
Her knees buckled. As Orbilio staggered towards her, his face white with concern, she found herself clutching at bedclothes.
‘That’s why Skyles had to carry you home,’ Marcus said, and she hoped it was the blood thundering in her ears, but dammit, it sounded for all the world like he was laughing.
‘As he whooped for joy at Erinna’s survival, he-um-accidentally set the hook in motion again.’
It was always going to be like this with Orbilio, she realized, as she reeled sideways on to the floor. Ups and downs, storms and torrents, it would never be a smooth ride with this man. He wouldn’t get the credit for saving the Empire, either, because there was no credit to take. When Cotta died, the evidence died with him and the Senate would sincerely mourn their Arch-Hawk, whose life was tragically snuffed out by an accident in his warehouse, where a carelessly tied hoist had swung loose. Marcus would always be fighting for his seat in the Senate, just as she would always be fighting to maintain her position as a woman in trade.
Aristocrat in a pleb’s world.
Woman in a man’s world.
They were more alike than she’d realized.
She tried to laugh with him at the absurdity of the second bump, at the ridiculous mass of walking wounded downstairs, at the sheer farce played out within a farce, but the pull of the blackness was stronger. She had to tell him, though. She had to tell him, before she passed out again. Make him understand ‘You’re right,’ she whispered, as oblivion rushed up to meet her. ‘You are the best friend I’ve ever had.’
Orbilio shouted to someone to call the herbalist back quickly. Claudia Seferius was clearly delirious.