The Tyrant's Tomb (The Trials of Apollo, #4)(106)

“Come on, Lester.” Reyna winked. “Limp with me.”


The limping was easy. Even though I was healed, I tired easily. It was no problem to walk at Reyna’s pace. Her dogs, Aurum and Argentum, weren’t with her, I noticed, perhaps because Terminus didn’t approve of deadly weapons inside the city limits.

We made our way slowly down the road from Temple Hill toward New Rome. Other legionnaires gave us a wide berth, apparently sensing we had private business to discuss.

Reyna kept me in suspense until we reached the bridge spanning the Little Tiber.

“I wanted to thank you,” she said.

Her smile was a ghost of the one she’d had on the hillside of Sutro Tower, when I’d offered to be her boyfriend. That left me in no doubt as to what she meant—not Thank you for helping to save the camp, but Thank you for giving me a good laugh.

“No problem,” I grumbled.

“I don’t mean it in a negative way.” Seeing my dubious look, she sighed and stared out at the dark river, its ripples curling silver in the moonlight. “I don’t know if I can explain this. My whole life, I’ve been living with other people’s expectations of what I’m supposed to be. Be this. Be that. You know?”

“You’re talking to a former god. Dealing with people’s expectations is our job description.”

Reyna conceded this with a nod. “For years, I was supposed to be a good little sister to Hylla in a tough family situation. Then, on Calypso’s island, I was supposed to be an obedient servant. Then I was a pirate for a while. Then a legionnaire. Then a praetor.”

“You do have an impressive résumé,” I admitted.

“But the whole time I’ve been a leader here,” she forged on, “I was looking for a partner. Praetors often partner up. In power. But also romantically, I mean. I thought Jason. Then for a hot minute, Percy Jackson. Gods help me, I even considered Octavian.” She shuddered. “Everybody was always trying to ship me with somebody. Thalia. Jason. Gwen. Even Frank. Oh, you’d be perfect together! That’s who you need! But I was never really sure if I wanted that, or if I just felt like I was supposed to want it. People, well-meaning, would be like, Oh, you poor thing. You deserve somebody in your life. Date him. Date her. Date whoever. Find your soul mate.”

She looked at me to see if I was following. Her words came out hot and fast, as if she’d been holding them in for a long time. “And that meeting with Venus. That really messed me up. No demigod will heal your heart. What was that supposed to mean? Then finally, you came along.”

“Do we have to review that part again? I am quite embarrassed enough.”

“But you showed me. When you proposed dating…” She took a deep breath, her body shaking with silent giggles. “Oh, gods. I saw how ridiculous I’d been. How ridiculous the whole situation was. That’s what healed my heart—being able to laugh at myself again, at my stupid ideas about destiny. That allowed me to break free—just like Frank broke free of his firewood. I don’t need another person to heal my heart. I don’t need a partner…at least, not until and unless I’m ready on my own terms. I don’t need to be force-shipped with anyone or wear anybody else’s label. For the first time in a long time, I feel like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. So thank you.”

“You’re welcome?”

She laughed. “Don’t you see, though? Venus put you up to the job. She tricked you into it, because she knew you are the only one in the cosmos with an ego big enough to handle the rejection. I could laugh in your face, and you would heal.”

“Hmph.” I suspected she was right about Venus manipulating me. I wasn’t so sure the goddess cared whether or not I would heal, though. “So what does this mean for you, exactly? What’s next for Praetor Reyna?”

Even as I asked the question, I realized I knew the answer.

“Come along to the Senate House,” she said. “We’ve got a few surprises in store.”





Life is uncertain

Accept presents, and always

Eat your birthday cake

MY FIRST SURPRISE: A front-row seat.

Meg and I were given places of honor next to the senior senators, and the most important citizens of New Rome, and those demigods with accessibility needs. When Meg saw me, she patted the bench next to her, as if there were any other place to sit. The chamber was absolutely packed. Somehow, it was reassuring to see everyone together, even if the populace was much reduced and the sea of white bandages could have caused snow blindness.

Reyna limped into the chamber right behind me. The entire assembly came to its feet. They waited in respectful silence as she made her way to her praetor’s seat next to Frank, who nodded at his colleague.

Once she was seated, everyone else followed suit.

Reyna gestured at Frank like, Let the fun begin.

“So,” Frank addressed the audience, “I call to order this extraordinary meeting of the people of New Rome and the Twelfth Legion. First item on the agenda: a formal thank-you to all. We survived by a team effort. We’ve dealt a huge blow to our enemies. Tarquin is dead—really dead at last. Two out of three emperors of the Triumvirate have been destroyed, along with their fleet and their troops. This was done at great cost. But you all acted like true Romans. We live to see another day!”