by Tanya Bird
Dulcia covered her face. She did not have it in her to fix anything, not even herself. ‘I cannot.’
‘Of course you can.’ Tertia pulled her hands away from her face. ‘If you think you cannot find happiness with Manius, then you are wrong. The happiness will creep in with time, once you let go of all the resentment and regret, and embrace your new life.’ She let go of Dulcia’s hands. ‘I speak from experience.’
She was referring to her life with Rufus. It was true, she seemed happy despite the fact that her father had sold her to the man at a young age.
‘I had to let my family go,’ Tertia continued. ‘I have not seen my brother in over twenty-five years.’
Dulcia was having difficulty feeling anything but anger in that moment. ‘So I should turn off my feelings, like you did?’
Tears filled Tertia’s eyes. ‘It is not one or the other. You can find happiness with Manius and still have room for the pain.’
‘Dulcia,’ Junia called, stepping into the atrium. ‘Say goodbye to your mother.’
Dulcia continued to watch her mother for a moment. ‘Goodbye.’
Tertia attempted a smile. ‘All will be well. You shall see.’ She reached out, patting her daughter’s arm before turning and following the waiting servant from the room.
Dulcia stared after her, resignation like mould on her soul. Perhaps it was easier to just welcome it in, let it cover her until one day she looked in the mirror and saw something else entirely. The alternative was too hard.
‘Shall we weave?’ Junia asked, her tone upbeat.
Dulcia stared after her mother, one hand on her stomach and the other pressed to her breastbone where Nero’s ring still hung from her neck. Tertia had said, ‘No more’. But Nero had said something also.
‘I’ll only let go if I have to, and I’ll always come back.’
She turned to Junia, cheeks flushed and eyes red. ‘Yes. Let us weave.’
Chapter 31
When Nero showed up on Rufus Papias’s doorstep, no one would see him. He asked if he should come back later, to which the servant answered with a very pointed no.
‘Tomorrow, then?’ Nero asked as the door closed in his face. The footsteps faded until he could hear nothing at all.
He went back every day for five days, and on the fifth day, not even the servants opened the door. If Rufus Papias was not going to let him in, he would wait for the man to leave the house.
Crossing the street, Nero took a seat in the shade, eyes never leaving the door. The moment the physician had said he could leave his bed, he fled. Light exercise had been encouraged in order to keep the lungs clear, but he was still in pain.
‘It is too far,’ Mila had called as he left the apartment.
It had not stopped him. One persistent thought kept him going back: he should have done it long ago. He should have done it the moment he had a wage, when he realised his feelings for Dulcia went far beyond the lust of a young boy. At some point she had become the best part of his day, the reason he left the stables at a jog instead of a walk. Every time she smiled, his own was a reflex, her laughter infectious and her tears his undoing. He should have gone to the man who held all the power—before she was promised to another.
The sun sat low in the west when the front door to the great house finally opened. Rufus and Aquila stepped out together, dressed in their finest, likely heading to a dinner party. Nero pushed himself up onto his feet, ignoring the pain in his chest from moving too fast.
Aquila spotted him first. She caught her husband’s arm and gestured tiredly in his direction. Rufus turned to look, his mouth flattening into a thin line at the sight of him.
‘We are already running late,’ Rufus said, attempting to shut the conversation down before it had even begun.
Nero glanced at the approaching litter. ‘Perhaps I can walk with you, so as to not delay you.’
‘Do we look like plebeians who walk the streets?’ Aquila asked, her dark eyes narrowed on him.
Nero struggled to keep his face neutral, remembering all the times the woman had laid her hands on Dulcia. ‘I’ll walk alongside your litter, then.’
Aquila waved her hand dismissively. ‘My husband is not interested in anything you have to say. In fact, if Manius’s men had not done such a good job on you already, he might have sent men of his own.’
Rufus raised a hand to silence his wife. ‘I will walk ahead for a few minutes.’
Her mouth pinched. ‘In this heat?’
Rufus gave a silent sigh. ‘The heat is not so bad.’
Aquila gathered the skirt of her garment and turned in a swoosh of fabric before stepping into the waiting litter. The men walked on ahead while Aquila settled herself.
‘You have five minutes,’ Rufus said, walking off.
Nero hurried after him, with no intention of wasting one second of the time. He knew what he wanted to say. ‘I have come to ask for Dulcia’s hand.’
Rufus laughed, but it was not a happy noise. ‘I truly hope you are joking. You have a lot of nerve showing up at my house after the trouble you have caused. The only reason I have not had you exiled is because I have been assured you are leaving the city.’
That was what he had promised Mila. If the wedding went ahead, he would leave with them on the next available ship.
He brought a hand to his aching ribs, trying to match the senator’s pace. ‘I should’ve let you know my intentions sooner.’
‘To be clear, no one cares about your feelings except Dulcia, and her input on the subject is no longer welcome.’
‘Is she with Manius?’ He could not help himself.
‘That is not your business.’
He thought it best not to disagree. ‘Can you at least tell me if she’s all right?’
Rufus cast a sideways glance at him. ‘If you are fishing for information, you will get nothing from me.’
He was running out of time. ‘I know you don’t want to hear this, but I love Dulcia.’ No reaction. ‘And she feels the same. That’s why she risked everything to be with me.’
‘Dulcia is naive. She has lived a very sheltered life. Of course she would agree to your foolish plan.’ He looked over his shoulder, no doubt gauging the distance of the litter. ‘You have said your piece.’ His eyes returned to Nero. ‘This is where we part ways. You leave the city, and I never see you again.’
Yes, his time was most definitely up. ‘See, the thing is, I can’t move on, because I made a promise to Dulcia.’
‘I am guessing it is one you cannot keep.’
‘I love her.’
‘You mentioned that, but it is not enough.’
Nero’s breath was catching as his ribs burned. ‘What would be enough?’
Rufus laughed and shook his head. ‘Perhaps you have not heard the news. I already have a husband for my daughter.’
‘I know her better than anyone, and she will be miserable if that marriage goes ahead.’
‘Better than her own mother?’
‘Yes,’ Nero replied without hesitation.
There was amusement in Rufus’s eyes. ‘I am curious enough to hear your theory on the subject.’
Nero stopped walking, unable to continue at that pace and talk at the same time. Rufus stopped also, turning impatiently. Soon the litter would catch up.
‘She shuts down around him.’
‘She shuts down around everyone.’
Nero shook his head. ‘No, she doesn’t. Not with me.’
‘I pray that is not the entirety of your argument. There is far more at play here than her shy demeanour.’
Nero’s hands rested on his hips as he watched the litter approach. At that point he had nothing to lose. He looked at Rufus. ‘I know how to make her laugh, her favourite foods, what frightens her, what it means when her forehead wrinkles in that particular way of hers. I know what she values most in life and how to make her happy.’ At least the man was listening. ‘But more than that, I know the lengths I would go to in order to give
her the life she deserves.’ He drew a breath. ‘I’m not the wealthiest man, or the most educated. It’s possible I don’t even deserve her. But I swear before every listening god that there is not a man on this Earth who will love her like I do.’
Another sigh from Rufus. Hope surged in Nero as silence followed.
‘That may be true. However, it does not change the facts. You say you should have come to me earlier, but my answer would have been the same.’ His expression did not change. ‘You are a man without a last name, raised by whores. You fight on the streets, kill men for coin. You are a criminal, and the sort of man who would take another’s wife.’
‘I’m not without morals—’
‘You gamble.’
‘A lot of men gamble—’
‘You have no ambition, no plan, and no wealth. Shall I go on?’
Nero shifted his weight from one foot to the other. ‘I think you’ve made your point.’
Rufus exhaled. ‘Perhaps if you had come to me and offered up something other than feelings, before Dulcia was promised to someone else, I might have listened. You stand here with nothing of value to me.’
‘If it’s coin you want, I can get it.’
‘I am not interested in your thug money.’
The litter stopped behind them as the men stared at one another.
‘Do not come to the house again,’ Rufus said, turning away.
Nero watched as he climbed into the litter. Aquila did not even glance in his direction.
‘Good day,’ Nero called as the litter pulled away.
Nero felt at home inside the familiar stables. He wandered past the stalls, whispering greetings to the horses he knew, before coming to a stop in front of Amator’s old stall. Inside was a new stallion, large for its breed, its mane reaching past his neck, tail thick and glossy. Exactly the type of horse Nerva would buy.
A groom appeared from behind the horse and did a double take of Nero. A grin spread across his face. ‘Didn’t think I’d see you back here.’ He walked over to the door and offered his arm, and Nero took hold of it.
‘I’m looking for Nerva. He’s usually here at this time.’
‘He’ll be by soon.’ The groom lifted the latch and pushed the door open. ‘You’re welcome to come in and wait.’ He stepped back to let him through. ‘Watch this one though.’ He nodded towards the stallion. ‘Doesn’t like people—even me.’
Nero watched as the wary stallion snorted and sidestepped, his ears flattening. The door closed behind him, and he heard the groom enter the next stall. Nero slowed his breathing, relaxed his shoulders and opened his hands. He had nowhere to rush off to and was keen to see if the horse would settle around him. Nero spoke calmly and quietly, and eventually the stallion’s ears came forwards to listen. He extended one hand, and the horse snorted again before stretching his neck to sniff it.
‘That was quicker than most.’
Nero turned to see Nerva leaning on the stall door, watching them. He had not seen the general in some time and was unsure how his visit would be received.
Turning back to the horse, he said, ‘He’s a beauty.’
‘He arrived from Spain two weeks ago. We call him Avra.’
‘Avra,’ Nero repeated. The horse’s ears pricked at the familiar word. ‘Are you running him on the inside?’
‘No. Vita runs the inside now.’
Nero turned in surprise. ‘Vita? Really?’ She had always done best in the middle.
‘Go on, say it,’ Nerva said, his expression slightly amused.
‘Say what?’
‘Whatever is on the tip of your tongue.’
Nero walked around the stallion, keeping enough distance so as to not spook him. ‘She wouldn’t have been my first choice for the inside is all.’
‘Noted.’ Nerva opened the stall door and stepped inside. ‘Now tell me what you are doing here. I have no idea where Dulcia is, if you are sniffing about for information.’ He closed the door behind him and crossed his arms, waiting.
Nero cleared his throat. ‘Who’s your new charioteer?’
Nerva studied him for the longest time before replying. ‘You want to race, is that it?’
‘Yes.’
A slow nod. ‘Why?’
‘To win.’
Nerva drew a tired breath. ‘To beat Manius, you mean.’
‘I need the prize money and the recognition that comes with it.’ His lips twitched. ‘Beating Manius is a bonus.’
Nerva shook his head and watched the stallion for a moment. ‘When I took your job from you, I told you that you were too hot-tempered, that you could not be trusted. You never disagreed with me.’
‘Would it have made a difference?’
‘Perhaps once I had gotten past the image of your hands on my sister.’ He smirked. ‘We both know you are a better man than the one you have become of late. Mila is an excellent judge of character, and she sees something in you.’
So had Dulcia until he had let them both down.
Nerva gestured towards the stallion. ‘Now you want to prove yourself.’
Drawing a breath, Nero considered his words. ‘I am your best chance at winning. This one is already beginning to trust me. I race clean, and we both know I can beat Manius.’
Nerva’s brow creased with disapproval. ‘Yes, I heard about your little races at the Trigarium, despite your best efforts to cover them up.’
‘And I’ve been driving a biga chariot for Gallus. If I can drive while under attack, I can drive anywhere.’
‘Four horses is different, as you well know.’
‘I’m up to it.’
Nerva looked him up and down. ‘Mila told me you broke a rib. Are you even fit to race?’
‘It’s already healing, and the race is not for another four days.’
Nerva looked to the heavens. ‘Ribs take longer than a few days to heal, but I suspect you know that also.’
Avra wandered closer, sniffing Nero’s arm. Slowly, he raised his hand and stroked the stallion’s long face. ‘The physician says some exercise will do me good.’
‘Oh, yes.’ A laugh from Nerva. ‘I bet chariot racing is exactly what he had in mind when he spoke those words.’ He wrestled with the decision for a moment. ‘My father is not going to suddenly hand Dulcia to you because you beat Manius at one race. His agenda runs much deeper than that.’
Nero nodded. ‘I know.’
‘She is not for sale.’
‘I know that too, but this is the only plan I have. I can’t do nothing. I made a promise to your sister.’
Nerva sighed heavily. ‘If I give you this opportunity, I want you to promise me something.’
‘What’s that?’
‘When Mila and Remus leave on that ship, you will leave with them. They remain here for you.’
He nodded. ‘Don’t worry. You’re not the only one keen to see the back of me.’
‘It is not personal. It is just that I am not always able to look out for my sisters. And when Dulcia marries Manius, your interference could bring her to ruin, and I will not let that happen.’
‘I wouldn’t do that to her.’
‘A bold statement given recent events.’
Nero’s hand fell away from the horse. ‘Everyone’s pointing their finger in my direction, talking about how I moved in and tried to steal another man’s wife.’
‘Do you deny it?’
‘Yes.’ It was a swift reply. ‘Dulcia has belonged to me since we were twelve years old, from the moment I saw her walking down the street towards me, from the first time I made her laugh despite Mila telling me she laughs for no one. It just took us time to realise what we were to each other. But if you look back, you will see it.’
Nerva thought for a moment. ‘I remember that day. You told me you were Mila’s bodyguard.’
Nero gave a sheepish smile. ‘I was, of sorts.’
Nerva regarded him for a moment. ‘So you are taking back what is yours, then?’
‘I suppose
I am.’
Nerva leaned on the wall and let out a noisy sigh. ‘I am going to regret this.’ He set his hard gaze on Nero. ‘I can only give you the race, not my sister.’
‘I understand.’
‘Assuming you come out alive, you will go straight to that ship when it is over.’ He straightened and extended his arm. ‘I want your word.’
Nero took a firm hold of it. ‘You have it. Thank you.’
Nerva clapped his arm before letting go. ‘Get to work, charioteer.’
Chapter 32
It was the day before Ludi Apollinares, the games honouring the god Apollo. It also happened to be the day before Dulcia’s wedding. She was restless, pacing the house like a caged animal. The July heat was suffocating the entire city, and the absence of a breeze meant no reprieve.
Manius had come by the house to spend time with her. He lay on one of the luxurious lounges in the triclinium, a slave either side, furiously fanning him. If he only knew how spoiled he looked.
‘For goodness’ sake, Dulcia, sit down. Just watching you wandering about like a lost lamb is making me feel hot.’
She walked over to the spare lounge and sat without a word. When a servant approached, lotus leaf in hand, she shook her head. ‘No thank you.’ She had fanned Aquila enough times to know how one’s arms ached and how quickly thirst grew in such repressive heat.
‘I would like to go to the market and select the flowers for your ceremony,’ Junia announced.
Manius rolled his head to look at his sister. ‘You have plenty of servants to fetch flowers.’
She sighed. ‘But none with my sharp eye.’
‘Since when do you care about flowers?’
‘Since I have been locked up in this house for days on end. Come now, be reasonable. I have played chaperone without complaint and kept your betrothed entertained to the best of my rather limited abilities.’
‘Fine, go.’ He waved her off.
‘Perhaps Dulcia could come with me.’
His eyes remained closed. ‘My wife stays here.’
Wife.
Dulcia watched him from her seat. While the word was premature, a familiar emptiness filled her. One day she hoped to feel something else. She did not care about going to the market. The city walls were just another, much larger cell. No point in leaving if she was to be forced to return.
