As Sure as the Dawn(30)
She glanced toward the balcony with a frown. “Where were you that you could see me?”
Atretes stepped by her and went out into the sunlight. “You can be sure Sertes’ spy saw you.”
“Spy? Where?”
He leaned against the balcony wall and nodded toward the road. “He’s sitting under that tree down there.”
“They look like travelers.”
“I recognized him from the ludus.”
“Oh.” She let out her breath softly. “Perhaps he’ll assume I’m a servant cleaning the upstairs chambers.”
“Standing idle and gazing out into the hills?”
She blushed. “Are you sure he’s the one spying on me?”
Atretes pushed away from the wall and walked back inside. “Yes, I have you watched. I know exactly where you are and what you’re doing every minute of the day.” He stopped in front of her. “And night.”
She forced a smile, her heart drumming. “I’m thankful to know Caleb is so well guarded.”
A muscle jerked in Atretes’ cheek. His gaze flickered over her. He stepped past her again. She felt as though she was being circled by a hungry lion.
“This was once my room,” he said without inflection.
“Pilia told me.”
He came around the other side of her, his eyes hard. “Did Pilia tell you anything else?”
“She said you don’t like to come in here.” She glanced around, admiring the marble walls and muraled floor. “It’s a lovely room, full of sunlight.”
“The largest and best in the house,” he said, his tone acrid.
Troubled, she glanced up at him. Questions flooded her mind, but she held her silence.
He cast a cursory glance around the empty room, his face hard. “A bedchamber fit for a queen.”
“I apologize for intruding where I shouldn’t have. I won’t come in here again.” Excusing herself, she left the chamber, breathing a sigh of relief when she was in the outer corridor and out from under that cold, blue stare.
Rizpah spent the rest of the afternoon in the atrium. She held Caleb on the edge of the pond and let him kick his feet in the water. When he became hungry, she adjourned to an alcove and nursed him.
When Caleb was replete, she went to the kitchen and asked for something to eat. The cook put bread, fruit, and thin slices of meat on a platter. He carried it, along with a small pitcher of wine, into a room with a long table where the slaves ate. Setting the meal down, he left her. Sitting at the bench, Rizpah gave thanks to God and ate alone. The silence was oppressive.
Pilia came in with baskets of bread. Rizpah smiled and greeted her, but the girl plunked a basket down and walked quickly away from the table. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying, and when she glanced back at Rizpah, her expression was one of unveiled resentment. Frowning in confusion, Rizpah watched her set the remaining baskets of bread on the table and leave.
Sighing, Rizpah rose. When she went out into the corridor, she saw the girl coming back with a tray of fruit. Pilia marched past her, pointedly ignoring her. Annoyed, Rizpah followed her into the small hall. “What’s wrong, Pilia?”
“Nothing.”
“You appear very upset about something.”
“Upset?” She banged the tray down. “What right have I to be upset?” She marched out of the room again.
Rizpah shifted Caleb and waited. Pilia entered again with a stack of wooden plates. Rizpah watched her slam them one by one into place along the opposite side of the table. “Have I offended you in some way?”
Pilia stopped at the end of the table, clutching the remaining wooden plates against her. Her angry eyes filled with tears. “It would seem I’m no longer to be called to Atretes’ bed.”
Rizpah hadn’t known of their relationship and was dismayed by the pang she felt upon hearing of it. “What has that to do with me?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know,” Pilia said and began laying out the rest of the plates.
“I don’t know,” she said uneasily.
Finishing her task, Pilia swept out of the room again.
Troubled, Rizpah lifted Caleb, secured him to her with her shawl, and went to her room. When she opened the door, she found the room bare. The blood drained from her face. She went in search of Lagos and found him in the bibliotheca, the large library, going over household accounts.
“Where are my things?”
“The master ordered them moved to the bedchamber on the second floor.”
She thought of Pilia and her face went hot. “Why?”
“He didn’t say.”
“Where is he?”
He glanced up in clear warning. “If I were you, I wouldn’t—”