by Tanya Bird
‘Have you lost your mind?’
‘Have I…’ Her free hand went over her mouth, stifling a sob. ‘I thought you were dead.’
He pulled her to him, his arms going around her. One hand spanned the middle of her back while the other cradled her head. A veil of murky air protected them from prying eyes. ‘I’m fine,’ he whispered into her hair. ‘We need to get you off the track.’
The moment he released her, she wanted his arms around her again. He took her hand instead and led her back to Nerva, who was searching for them. Her brother looked past them to Amator, who lay on the track, his broken body covered in dust. The great stallion was unrecognisable.
Nerva’s arm went around his sister, shielding her vision. ‘Let us go.’
Her legs obeyed, but she could not look away from Nero’s broken expression. She wanted him to follow, but instead he turned and headed for the dead horse.
Thunderous applause shook the air around them, and Dulcia looked up, confused.
Nerva tightened his grip on her. ‘It is Manius,’ he said. ‘Your betrothed has just been crowned the winner.’
Chapter 12
‘Leave it,’ Nerva had told him. ‘He is not the first charioteer to use dirty tactics.’
No, Manius was not the first to win a race with dirty tactics, but he was definitely the first to kill Nero’s favourite horse in the process.
By some miracle, Chares was alive, but he would never race again. Neither would two of the mares. They would likely be sold to wealthy fans, a living keepsake. Only Vita would make a full recovery. It would take a lot of time and money to replace the horses they had lost.
No, Nero could not let it go. In fact, he only grew angrier over the days that followed.
With three horses gone, he continued to train Vita at the Trigarium, always on the lookout for Manius. He had no idea what he would do when he ran into him, but at the very least he would let him know that he saw him for what he was—a coward who relied on cheap tactics instead of skill. One thing he knew for sure was that Manius would never be good enough for Dulcia. She deserved someone with some integrity.
His opportunity to confront the man came three days after the race. Manius made an appearance around noon, just as Nero had finished putting Vita through her paces. He was easily recognisable across the field, with his ridiculous silk cloak pushed back over one shoulder. Every muscle in Nero’s body tightened at the sight of him.
‘Take Vita back to the stables, would you?’ he said to the groom.
The groom looked over to where Manius stood, arms crossed at the edge of the field, waiting for his chariot like the rich fool he was.
‘What are you going to do?’
‘I don’t know,’ he replied honestly, striding off in that direction. He knew the moment Manius spotted him, because that cocky smile on his face faded.
‘Nero,’ the charioteer called when he was close. ‘How is the general’s driver fairing?’
Nero did not slow down. With his hands curled into fists and his jaw set, he marched straight up to Manius, unsure at what point he would stop. Before smashing his face in or after?
‘Nero?’
The sound of Dulcia’s voice stopped him in his tracks. He turned and found her standing with a horse some twenty feet away. Her look of surprise melted into confusion as she took in his body language.
‘Dulcia.’ He relaxed his hands. ‘What are you doing here?’
She glanced at Manius, giving him his answer.
‘I collected Dulcia on my way here,’ Manius said. ‘She likes the horses.’
As if Nero needed educating on Dulcia’s likes and dislikes.
He watched as she went to stand next to Manius, looking painfully uncomfortable at his side. Nero felt a surge of protectiveness in that moment. He had not seen her since the day she jumped the banister at the Circus Maximus, because he had no idea what to say to her. He had overheard Nerva lecturing her after the event, and she had probably received the same lecture again from both her parents, perhaps even Manius’s family. He feared anything he said or did would only make things worse.
‘I was just asking after the welfare of your brother’s driver,’ Manius said, taking Dulcia’s hand and placing it on his arm.
Nero’s eyes followed the motion, the sight of her arm through Manius’s fanning that flame inside of him. She did not pull away, just stood there—like a dutiful wife.
‘He’s lucky to be alive,’ Nero said, his tone like ice.
Manius tutted. ‘The things we charioteers do for the love of the sport. Be thankful Nerva has never let you compete. Much safer to be tending the horses than racing them.’
It was said without malice, but that did not stop Nero from wanting to knock that smug expression off his face. His gaze flicked to Dulcia, who was staring at her feet. Surely she saw him for what he was.
He narrowed his eyes on Manius. ‘You did that, not the sport. You realised you were about to lose, so you took out the lead stallion.’
Dulcia looked up at that, eyes wide. ‘Nero, stop.’
She seemed genuinely surprised by the accusation. ‘You were there. You saw it.’ It was unfair to put her on the spot, but he was beyond propriety.
‘We are all upset about the loss of Amator,’ she said. ‘It was a terrible accident.’
Nero threw his hands up. ‘He deliberately ran his chariot into the horse.’
Manius took a step forwards. ‘You will kindly address your grievances to me, not my betrothed.’
The nerve of the man to act like she needed protecting from him. Nero shook his head, losing patience. ‘What? You speak for her now?’
Dulcia closed her eyes and looked away while Manius lifted his chin. ‘If you think I am going to stand by while you attack my future wife, you are mistaken.’
Dulcia’s hand went to her stomach, the way it always did when there was conflict. Nero’s chest grew heavy.
‘We are done here,’ Manius said, placing his hand on Dulcia’s back. ‘Let us go.’
She stiffened at his touch. It was so subtle, but enough for Nero’s mind to snap. With his hand already clenched into a fist, he stepped forwards and punched Manius in the face, sending the charioteer hurtling sideways to the ground. He did not stop there. In the next breath, Nero had his knee in Manius’s side and a small blade pressed to his neck.
Dulcia ran forwards and grabbed his arm. ‘Stop,’ she pleaded. ‘Get off him.’
Nero reached up with his free hand to move her out of the way, afraid she would get hurt, but it was more of a shove than he intended. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her fall back into the dirt. His anger evaporated, and his hand went limp around the dagger. He turned his head, saw the shock frozen on her face. All he wanted to do then was go to her, help her up, apologise, erase his actions completely. But before he could get to his feet, Manius’s fist smashed into his cheek, sending a spray of blood across the dirt and the dagger flying. It sailed through the air and landed like a dart in the sand, a hair’s breadth from Dulcia’s leg.
Manius seemed oblivious to the fact as he pushed himself up and went to swing again, but that time Nero was ready and blocked the blow with his arm. They continued that way for a few moments, rolling about in the dirt, fists swinging.
Dulcia scrambled to her feet. ‘Stop it. Nero, please.’
But he could not stop. He was going to strangle the man with his bare hands. The dagger had almost hit her, and now he was going to choke the charioteer with his own pompous cape.
Large hands grabbed hold of him, pulling him off. Nero fought to get free but failed. He turned his head to see who had hold of him and found a scowling Albaus. Felix was beside him, a hand outstretched to Manius. The charioteer propped himself up on his elbows, two streams of blood pouring from his nose. He ignored the offer of a hand and rose slowly to his feet. He spat blood onto the ground.
‘You will pay for this, Rat.’
Felix looked between them. ‘I am sensi
ng some hostility between the two of you.’
Dulcia walked over to Manius and tugged on his arm. ‘Let us go.’
Nero could not believe what he was seeing and hearing. ‘You’re going with him?’
She glanced over, her cheeks red and her expression wary. ‘Stay back,’ she warned.
‘Dulcia—’
Manius stepped in front of her. ‘Your days of telling her what to do are over.’
That time Albaus took a step in his direction, but Felix raised a hand to stop him. ‘They were just leaving.’
Dulcia took Manius’s arm, but he pulled free, his pride too wounded. ‘I am fine.’
She nodded, her trembling hand returning to her side as she stepped away from him. Nero hated that he had done that to her.
‘Dulcia,’ Nero called once more, wanting her to go with him, to care for him, to choose him. He wanted to tell her he was sorry for pushing her, check every inch of her body for injury. If he could just hold her for a moment, kiss her hair, make everything better between them.
He moved to go after her, but Albaus caught his arm again, and Felix’s stern expression held him in place.
‘Leave it.’
Nero’s shoulders fell as he realised he had no choice but to let her walk away.
Dulcia sat with her mother on the laundry floor, their backs against the wall. It was the least attractive room in the entire household, and yet it had served as a refuge of sorts her whole life. She was reminded in that moment that she valued comfort over luxury, the familiar over the new.
‘I should never have permitted you to spend time with that boy,’ Tertia said, reaching out and taking Dulcia’s hand. ‘I should have known he was trouble by the way your sister was drawn to him.’
‘He is not trouble.’ Dulcia studied the cracks on the wall opposite. ‘He is just misunderstood.’
‘He is damaged, and some things cannot be fixed.’
Dulcia closed her eyes. ‘Do not say that.’
Tertia turned to look at her. ‘You cannot see him anymore. It is not safe for either of you. Manius has every right to be jealous.’
Dulcia frowned. ‘Jealous of what? Nothing has happened between us.’ A lie. More than ever she realised it now. She recalled the panic she had felt when he had been on the track, the way her mind had broken apart at the prospect of losing him. She was not the type of girl who jumped over banisters and ran into danger. That was something her sister would do.
‘Whatever it is or is not, you must let it go.’
Dulcia shook her head, rejecting the sentiment. She had known things would change, but imagining a life without Nero made her stomach solidify and her chest tighten. Who would she talk to? Play games with? Laugh and climb trees with?
‘You are children no longer,’ Tertia continued. ‘It is inappropriate. You endangered yourself at the circus, and you embarrassed a lot of people.’
‘He almost died.’
‘It is the circus. Men die all the time there.’
‘Charioteers die.’
Tertia blinked. ‘He is not even a charioteer yet, and he has worked for Nerva for how long?’
‘He cares for the horses, trains them. It is a very important job.’
Her mother looked sceptical. ‘And does he still fight? Gamble?’
‘How is that relevant?’
Tertia shook her head. ‘They are more reasons for you to stay away from him.’ She thought for a moment. ‘What did Manius say at the party afterwards?’
‘He was just happy about his win.’ He had said nothing of the accident or of her actions. No one had. Livia’s relentless icy glare had communicated her thoughts on the subject. Junia had said nothing of Nero, but had casually mentioned that crashes happened all the time and were part of the thrill of going.
Nero had blamed Manius for Amator’s death, but that was surely just the grief speaking. It was an accident, a horrible accident, and her heart broke for him. Mila had told her he had slept in the stallion’s empty stall since it had happened. She had tried to go see him there, twice, then thought better of it each time.
‘Do not be reckless with all that has been handed to you,’ her mother said. ‘The gods smile down on you.’ She brushed a lock of hair back from her daughter’s eyes. ‘You are the sensible one, remember? You must keep the balance.’
‘Mila’s sensible.’
Tertia exhaled. ‘She has calmed down a lot since becoming a mother, I will give her that.’
‘She is also happy.’ How could she not be? Look at all she had.
Tertia reached out and squeezed her hand. ‘As you will be, my sweet girl.’ She drew a breath. ‘You deserve this. You know that, right?’
Deserving it was one thing, wanting it was another. She recalled the look on her father’s face when he had broken the news of their engagement. It had bordered on pride. Pride. ‘I might not take up swords and fight like Mila did, but I believe in all she fought for.’
A knowing smile spread across Tertia’s face. ‘You want the dream she fed you. The reality is not so glamorous.’
Dulcia’s brow creased. ‘What do you mean?’
‘She lives in an apartment with three children, four men and no help.’
Dulcia could not believe those words had come from her mother. ‘In case you have not noticed this about your eldest daughter, she does not need help. Anyway, the four men are her help.’
‘Bodyguards, perhaps.’ Tertia reached up and tucked Dulcia’s hair behind her ear. ‘I am not suggesting she is not happy. I know she is. Remus is a wonderful husband and father.’
‘I feel a but coming.’
‘But that is her dream. It is all right for you to want more.’
Dulcia tilted her head. ‘More than an adoring husband, healthy children and loyal friends who would lay down their lives for me?’
‘You make me out to be shallow because I want an easier life for you. Wealth does make for an easier existence. You will never struggle to make ends meet with Manius. You will want for nothing, and your children will carry the Liberia name.’
‘Excellent. Instead of love, I get a name.’
Tertia laughed and pulled her daughter into an embrace. ‘You get both. From all reports, Manius adores you.’
‘From all reports? You have not even met him.’
‘A man of his status dining with a slave pushes the boundaries of propriety, even for Manius, who is very progressive in his thinking.’ Seeing her daughter’s expression, she added, ‘Give him time. The incident today has everyone on edge.’
Dulcia did not want to think about earlier. She knew Nero never meant to push her, knew by his expression, by the way his entire body went limp at the realisation. She had conveniently left that part out when relaying the story to her mother. No need to fuel the fire.
‘I know Nero can be kind, that he cares about you, perhaps even loves you in his own way.’
Dulcia wanted to object to that last part, but of course it was love. Why else did she feel so light in his presence, look forward to seeing him every day, and miss him when she did not? He was friend and family bundled into one. He was her safe haven.
She held her breath, bracing for the second but.
‘But your father has chosen Manius as your husband.’
‘Because he asked.’
‘And Nero did not.’
The words were like cold water thrown over her. No, he had not. Perhaps friendship and family were enough for him.
Seeing Dulcia’s expression, Tertia added, ‘Has he ever told you he loves you? That he wishes to marry and take care of you?’
He always took care of her. There had never been a need to announce the fact. ‘Perhaps… perhaps Manius simply got in first.’
There was pity on her mother’s face. ‘Does Nero seem like the sort of man who would show restraint with his feelings? I believe today was evidence of the contrary.’
She honestly did not know the answer. At times she sensed restraint, but t
he question was why.
‘Dulcia’ he had said as she left with Manius that afternoon. One word that had almost tripped her. What he had not said was “Stay with me. Love me. Marry me.”
Dulcia rested her head on her mother’s shoulder, and Tertia stroked her hair.
‘I think there is a reason Nero has never asked for your hand.’
Dulcia swallowed against the large lump in her throat. ‘What reason is that?’
The soothing strokes stopped. ‘He too knows you deserve more.’
Chapter 13
Nero did not want to go to the tavern. He did not want to go home. He did not want to be around people, to feel their disappointed gazes on him, or worse, their pity. So he stayed away, remaining at the stables despite there being no need for it.
He sat with his back against the wall in Amator’s spotless stall, listening to Vita eat on the other side of the wall dividing them. He missed the company and antics of the great stallion—missed a lot of things.
The realisation hit him hard once more. He had lost Dulcia also.
Manius had a firm hold of her now, and once they wed, he would likely never see her. Maybe from a distance, maybe if she were permitted to visit with her sister, maybe if he could be in the same room as her without losing his mind. By then, would he find a way through his blinding jealousy and learn to be happy for her? He did not think so.
The stall door creaked, and Nero turned his head, expecting to see a groom. Instead, Dulcia stepped inside, eyes meeting his amid the shadows. He pushed himself to his feet, too surprised to speak for a moment. She narrowed her eyes on him, and he saw the anger and disappointment in them.
Gods, not more disappointment.
Marching over to him, her breaths coming in laboured bursts, she shoved his chest with both hands. His feet did not move, despite her best effort. Visibly frustrated by the fact, she went to shove him again, but that time he caught both wrists. He had never seen her like that before. She was not a fighter.
‘For heaven’s sake, Dulcia. Use your words.’
She tore her arms free with surprising force. ‘That is rich coming from you. Only you can push and shove, is that it?’
