Seduced by the Gladiator(83)

With a price for the bread agreed upon, a hand that did not belong to Christus or myself reached out and dropped a coin on the table. We turned as one and found a man in a simple but fine cloak standing closer to us than a stranger might.

His face was shadowed by the hood of the cloak, but his eyes were visible. The color of honey, they were wise and wary, and I immediately felt as though I could trust them.

“You requested an audience. Let us walk.” Beside me, I heard Viola let out another small squeak, an endearing habit of hers that came upon her when she was afraid or excitable.

I felt like squeaking, myself. We were in the company of the emperor of Rome.

Christus placed himself between the man and Viola and me, ever the protector. The emperor was silent for several long minutes, speaking again only when we had been swallowed among a crowd of people vying for fresh fish at a popular vendor.

Unable to even pretend that I was not the wary gladiator that I had been for years, I noted a dark-skinned man following us through the crowd. I did not feel as though he was a threat—I was certain that he was there to watch over the emperor.

“Tell me why I should not kill you as you have killed my brother.” Viola’s hand shot out, clasping mine, and I squeezed her fingers in reassurance.

We would not be intimidated. We had been through worse.

“I suspect that you already have that reason, likely from the same sources that told you that we were not staying at the inn you were told we would be staying at.” I knew that my words were brash, but I took a calculated risk and spoke anyway. Christus grabbed my arm in warning, his body tense, and I held my breath, wondering if I had just signed the warrant for our deaths by being so bold.

Instead, after a long moment, the emperor began to chuckle. He turned to face me, lifted his hood back enough that I could see his face. He looked nothing at all like Gaius, and for that I was profoundly grateful.

“I appreciate your boldness, Lilia the fierce.” He cocked his head slightly, his golden brown eyes studying me intently. He appeared to approve of what he saw, for he nodded briskly, as if satisfied.

“You are correct in that the treachery of my brother was not new to me.” The emperor resumed his walk, and I scurried to keep up with him, trusting Christus to keep an eye on Viola. The emperor studied a cart full of fresh figs, turning a plump one this way and that before tossing another coin at the vendor and strolling on, fruit in hand.

“My brother had never been a creature in whom one could place much trust. Our father saw the touch of madness in him long before I did and asked me to watch out for my brother.” I thought that I detected a hint of wistfulness in the man’s voice, but it was gone before I could be certain. “Clearly I did not watch closely enough, for you and countless others have suffered greatly at his hands.”

Turning suddenly, the emperor presented the fig to Viola, whose face was flushed red, even in the rain. She blushed even further at the gesture, accepting the fruit with a murmured thanks.

“As compensation, I offer each of you a reward.” He watched as Viola bit into the fruit, clearly finding refreshment in the treat. If I was not very much mistaken, he seemed sad and sorry for the young girl’s predicament.

“That is very kind of you, sir.” It struck me that I had no idea how one was to address an emperor. The absurdity of the entire situation had me holding back a fit of laughter.

This was all so strange. I was a gladiator, a slave. So was my love, and so was the girl in our company. Yet here we were, dressed as freedmen, walking through the market with the emperor.

The gods must have been in need of amusement.

“I offer you a reward, if you answer a question for me.” I exchanged a quick glance with Christus, then felt pinned by those deep eyes of the powerful man beside me.

“Anything you wish, your . . . sir.” I could feel the tension in Christus as he answered the man.

The emperor smiled. “Your Imperial Majesty. This is my title.”

Christus looked abashed, as if he should have known this. I squeezed his hand—there was no way that he could have known how to address the emperor.

I wondered if I would ever be enough to bring my gladiator peace. He looked at me as I wondered, and took my hand in his with a smile.

Whatever it was, we would get through it together.

The emperor looked down at our clasped hands, his expression unreadable. He looked again at Viola, who had finished her fig and looked much revived by it.

“Here is my question.” A dark curl fell from beneath the hood, clinging to the man’s forehead. In that moment he looked no older than myself or Christus—so young to have so much power. In truth, he was no freer than either of us.