by Tanya Bird
His mother was on the other side of Manius, mute with shock. The skin from hand to elbow was missing, along with patches on his shoulders and thighs. The leather vest covering his tunic had protected his torso to an extent, but the bruising suggested multiple broken ribs.
‘You are very lucky,’ the physician said, packing up his supplies while his assistant gathered the soiled items. ‘Aside from some scarring to the arms, you should make a full recovery.’
Manius said nothing. He was staring at the far wall and had barely said two words since he was brought into the small room. They could hear the crowd leaving the venue, their footsteps a constant rumble of noise above them.
‘Never seen anything like it,’ the physician continued. ‘A charioteer from an opposing team sparing the life of his competition. The gods must favour you this day.’ He closed his bag and looked down at Manius. ‘Is he a friend of yours?’
Manius turned to him, eyes dead. ‘He is no friend of mine.’
Dulcia pressed her leg against the cot to steady herself, and the physician’s bushy brows rose in surprise.
‘Well, I imagine he will be a friend for life now.’
Dulcia stared at the floor while the physician gave post-care instructions to Livia. She nodded absently, looking close to tears.
‘I shall come by the house tomorrow,’ he finished.
Another nod from Livia. ‘I will see you out.’
A few moments later, Dulcia was alone with Manius. Needing something to do, she stepped forwards to adjust the pillows behind him. She could feel him staring at her.
‘Go on, say it.’ His words were a growl.
Dulcia took a step back so she could see him properly. ‘Say what?’
‘Nero is a better man than me.’
She exhaled. ‘Stop.’
His nostrils flared. ‘You have believed it from the beginning. This is the proof you have been waiting for.’
She had never needed proof. ‘He did not do it for you. He did it for me.’
A nod. ‘Then I suppose I should be thankful you did not secretly wish me dead, or your lover would have ploughed right over the top of me.’
She could not stop the disapproving frown. ‘Perhaps I should leave you to rest.’
He laughed. ‘I was supposed to win today. In every sense of the word, I was supposed to win. Now look at me.’ He raised both bandaged arms. ‘Even if I could stand in front of guests to speak the words, I could not even have you in my bed.’
She swallowed. ‘We can have the wedding when you are feeling better.’
He stared at her for the longest time, all that resentment and anger directed at her. She almost felt sorry for him in that moment. He was not used to losing, and she could tell it was eating him up.
‘You will marry me out of pity, is that it?’
‘I will marry you because that is what was agreed.’ She looked down at his arms. ‘I am really trying here. In return, I would appreciate it if you did not act like the heavens are falling. You lost one race. Your body is wounded, and your pride, but they will both heal.’ She drew a breath before continuing. ‘Nero is leaving Rome empty-handed. He lost everything today.’ Her heart was breaking at the thought. ‘Yet I stand by your bedside while the people I love are driven out of the city.’ She struggled to keep calm. ‘You dare speak to me of loss.’
His gaze drifted to the wall at the far side of the room. ‘Your bedside manner needs work.’
She could not stay there without crying or shouting at him. ‘Rest.’
As she walked away, he called to her.
‘I would have let him die, you know.’
She knew he was talking about Nero. Her hand sat limp on the door handle.
‘I would not have let him live for your sake. I would have run my horses over him without a second thought. What does that say about me?’
It said everything, but nothing she did not already know. Nero had always put her above all else, and she had never felt so unworthy of his devotion.
‘I will send your mother in.’ With that, she fled the room.
‘When does your ship leave?’ Nerva asked.
They were standing outside a tavern across the street from the Circus Maximus, the road hot beneath their feet.
Nero kept glancing across the street, knowing she was still inside. ‘High tide, just after sunrise.’ He offered his arm. ‘I’m sorry I lost.’
Nerva took hold of it, his other hand going to the charioteer’s shoulder. ‘So am I. Though my horses are in one piece, so I will not complain too much.’ He gestured to the coin pouch tucked away in Nero’s tunic. ‘I have never seen coin thrown down to fourth place before. You might have lost the race, but you won plenty of hearts with your gallant display.’
Nero had left the coins on the sand. Rufus Papias had no time for men who placed fourth. The moment he had seen Dulcia seated beside her father, he had realised that no amount of denarii could buy her away from that life. He had been foolish to think otherwise—foolish and desperate. It was Nerva who had organised collection of the coin and delivered it to him in person.
‘It will fund your adventures south,’ Nerva said. ‘Mila will accept coin from you. I get tutted and shooed away when I try to give her anything.’
Nero smiled down at his feet. ‘There’s a lot of pride in our crazy household, if you hadn’t noticed.’
‘Hard not to.’ Nerva’s mouth lifted in a smile. ‘But there is also a lot of love.’ Another clap on his shoulder. ‘Take care of Mila for me. I gave the same instruction to Remus, Felix, Albaus, and the twins. Hoping between the six of you it will be enough to keep her out of trouble.’
Nero laughed, eyes across the street once more. ‘Unlikely.’
‘Safe travels.’ Nerva turned into the harsh western sun and headed off down the road.
Nero ran the toe of his sandal across the stone, working up the courage to leave also. One more glance across the street, and there she was—a broken goddess, her shoulders rounded, hair loose. Her crown was missing. That was not what he wanted to see. How was he supposed to leave her when she looked that way?
Looking both ways, he crossed the street, stepping between people and loaded mules. Then he was in front of her, feeling the immediate shift in the air that always happened when she was close. His hands hung empty, unable to touch her. She felt completely out of reach.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked.
Her eyes were immediately glassy. ‘Not really. You?’
He had to take a step back or he might be tempted to pull her into his arms, fit her against the nook of his chest the gods had gifted him for just that purpose. There were so many things he could not give her, but his comfort was endless. She could bury her face in him forever.
Her lip trembled, and she bit down on it. ‘It just about winds me when you move away from me like that.’
‘I can’t be close to you right now.’ It would require a group of men to pry him off.
They were silent a moment, watching the passers-by, looking everywhere but at each other.
‘How is he?’ He could not say his name.
‘Some scarring, otherwise fine, thanks to you.’ Her gaze flicked to him. ‘What you did…’
‘I didn’t do it for him.’
‘I know.’
He brushed a finger down his nose, one hand resting on his hip. ‘Tell me I did the right thing, because it doesn’t feel like it right now.’
She looked at him properly then, her expression so tender. ‘I was sitting next to his sister, behind his father and mother. His death would have hurt a lot of people.’ She stepped closer, reached out and brushed her fingers over his before her hand fell away. ‘You did the right thing. You get to leave with your head high, unmarked by his death.’
He nodded. ‘And what do you get?’
She thought. ‘I get all the unwed women from wealthy families glaring at me.’ A smile flickered.
‘They must really hate you.’
‘Oh, th
ey do.’
Nero drank in the sight of her, conscious of the time. He needed to leave soon or risk missing the boat. ‘I’m sorry I failed.’
‘You did not fail.’ She clasped her hands in front of her. ‘You were a true Roman hero today.’
‘But it wasn’t enough.’
She glanced cautiously over her shoulder at the waiting guard. ‘I better go.’
There was always someone watching, waiting. ‘Before you do, there’s something I want to say.’
She wrapped her arms around herself as if she were suddenly cold.
‘When I saw you at your father’s side today, it was as though you had been sitting there your entire life. Despite what you might believe about yourself, you fit in that world. The slave is gone, replaced with this’—he gestured towards her—‘magnificent thing. Now I struggle to imagine any other life for you.’
She looked down, and he could tell she was fighting back tears.
‘I do not want you to go.’ Her words were barely audible.
‘I can’t stay.’
She drew a shaky breath. ‘I know. I just…’ She took a moment to compose herself. ‘I truly hope you find happiness away from this place.’ With her head down, she rushed off down the street, her blue stola catching the breeze.
Nero knew it was the last time he would see her that way. The pain in his ribs grew unbearable. He stared at the spot where she had disappeared, as though expecting her to re-emerge at any moment. When she did not come back, he turned and walked in the opposite direction.
Chapter 36
Dulcia was halfway home when Nerva found her. Rufus wanted a word.
‘Now?’ she asked, her mind so tired.
Nerva smiled. ‘Is there any other time with him?’
He was right, of course. When Rufus Papias summoned, one generally came at a run.
She felt sick entering the great house, despite the familiar surroundings. Even knowing her mother was nearby no longer brought the comfort it once had.
Nerva led her through the atrium, the only sound their sandals on the marble floor. When they arrived at the tablinum, he knocked. Dread pooled inside her. She was craving solace and space, a moment to think and grieve. Prayer. Prayer might help. As soon as she was done, she would go to every temple in the city and throw herself at the mercy of the gods. She closed her eyes as she realised that nothing could stifle the loss of him.
‘Come in.’
Dulcia opened her eyes as Nerva pushed the door open, He stepped aside to let her pass. She was surprised to see her mother standing by the wall, looking pale and tired. Perhaps guilt was taking its toll.
Rufus was seated behind the table. Aquila must have been out of the house, or she would have been knocking the door down trying to break up their little meeting. Dulcia entered, and Nerva followed close behind her.
‘How is Manius?’ Rufus asked, standing and walking around the table.
Was it wrong that the charioteer had not entered her thoughts since leaving the Circus Maximus? ‘The physician says he will recover. Some scarring though.’
‘Scars add character.’
If that were true, then she was going to be displaying a lot of “character” moving forwards.
Rufus sat on the edge of the table. ‘And how are you?’
It was the first time in her life he had ever asked her that question. Whenever she was brought before him, she was given a set of instructions, a lecture, or disciplined, then sent on her way. ‘I am… fine, thank you.’
Nerva crossed his arms, one finger tapping. ‘No wedding celebrations today, then?’
She glanced sideways at him. ‘No.’
‘I have reports that Nero has left the city,’ Rufus said. ‘True to his word, he is on his way to Ostia.’
Just the mention of his name was like a punch to the stomach. ‘Yes. I saw him briefly before he left.’
Rufus and Tertia exchanged a look, then Rufus said, ‘He surprised me today.’
‘I think he surprised a lot of people.’
‘But not you?’
She blinked. ‘I know who he is.’
Rufus nodded, then considered his next words. ‘I enjoyed your company today, the novelty of a daughter by my side.’
Her throat thickened. Daughter. Even feeling the way she did, she could not stop the flutter of joy at hearing that word. ‘Me too.’
They looked at one another for a long moment.
‘Your marriage to Manius will open new doors. The Liberia connection is an opportunity for you and me to have a more… public relationship.’ Rufus cleared his throat, and if Dulcia did not know any better, she might have guessed he was as nervous as she was. ‘I would think you would like that.’
Even as he approached fifty years, he was still the handsome man she had idolised as a little girl. Straight back, white teeth, broad chest. His hair might have greyed, but it still matched Nerva’s in thickness. ‘Yes,’ she breathed. But the moment the word left her, she felt an emptiness in her chest. Tears rose, threatening to humiliate her. ‘But there is something I want more.’
Rufus shifted on the table. ‘And what is that?’
‘Nero.’ She knew what the confession might cost her, but the relief she felt at admitting it aloud was immense. ‘I am sorry.’ She pressed her palms over her eyes, as though trying to push the tears back in.
‘It is the name that affords you a place at my side,’ Rufus replied, watching her reaction to his words. ‘The Latinius name affords you nothing. It is a name recognised only by gladiator fans.’
Dulcia’s hands fell away. ‘And that is a shame.’ She tried to slow her breathing. ‘Because he is so much more than a name handed down to him.’
Rufus’s expression changed to one bordering on troubled. ‘He came to me, you know, desperate for your hand.’ He was not looking directly at her, but at the wall behind. ‘I told him plainly he was not good enough, that he had nothing to offer.’
Dulcia blinked, imagining the damage those words would have done. ‘He has always had a lot to offer. It is just that some things cannot be measured in coin.’
His gaze returned to her. ‘You might be right. He sacrificed the race, the prize money, the glory. He spared Manius’s life. It took me some time to figure out why.’
‘For Dulcia,’ Tertia said. It was the first time she had spoken.
Dulcia swallowed and looked at her mother. ‘Yes, for me.’
‘It might have solved a lot of problems if he had just let Manius die,’ Nerva said.
She turned to him. ‘A lot of his problems, but Nero is not that selfish or short-sighted. He did not make the decision for himself.’
Rufus was studying her intently. ‘I see that.’ He paused. ‘But Manius remains a far more sensible match.’
She should have nodded, agreed, stayed silent. ‘And by law, I must do as you say.’
‘I sense some defiance.’
Her hands were sweating, her ears burning. Whatever was building inside her, she could no longer contain it. ‘I do not want to marry him.’ She dropped to her knees, tears streaming down her cheeks and hands splayed on the floor. ‘So I am at your feet, begging. Please, let me go.’
No one moved. No one spoke. The only noise was the sound of her mother sniffing.
After a long silence, Rufus straightened, reached down, and pulled her up off the floor. He kept hold of her, and her heart pounded in her throat as she looked up at him. It was the most fatherly thing he had ever done for her, his grip firm but gentle—exactly as she had imagined. Dulcia felt a strong urge to fall forwards into his arms, to see what that would feel like. Instead, she planted her feet and waited.
‘Earlier, Nerva pointed something out.’ He kept hold of her arms as he spoke. ‘He reminded me that your sister chose her own husband, and has made a success of it by all accounts.’
She blinked away the dizziness threatening to take her legs out from under her. ‘Yes.’
‘So I asked you here to
see what you would do with that same freedom. Perhaps you deserve the same choice.’
She stared at him like a fool. ‘Choice?’ Her voice did not sound like it belonged to her. ‘You… What about Manius? All your plans?’
‘I can handle Manius. He wants a place in the senate, a foot up. We can still help each other.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Of course, if you choose not to marry the man, you would need to leave the city for a while, give things time to settle.’
That explained the state of her mother. She had known this was coming.
Dulcia’s hands went to her chest. She could feel the outline of Nero’s ring through the fabric. ‘And you will just let me leave?’ She was really struggling to comprehend what was happening.
‘To be clear, I hope you will stay here, with your family.’ He glanced at Tertia.
‘Be brave and smart.’
Her sister’s mantra came back to her. Drawing a calming breath, Dulcia considered her next words carefully. ‘If it is really my choice, then I choose friendship and laughter. I choose respect and love.’ He let go of her, and somehow, her legs held up. ‘It has always been Nero, and I will choose him every time.’
Rufus nodded, walked around to the other side of the table and sank down onto the stool. ‘That is exactly what your mother said you would say.’
Tertia wiped away the tears on her cheeks. ‘I also said that, if you choose to leave, this time it will be with my blessing.’
Dulcia’s expression collapsed, and she covered her face with her hands. Her mother went to her, hugging her shaking body tightly as she had done Dulcia’s entire life.
‘I am sorry,’ Tertia whispered. ‘For everything.’
Dulcia’s arms went around her, teeth gritted to stop the tears. Such an emotional display was too much for a man like Rufus. ‘Thank you.’
Her father rested his elbows on the table and looked at Nerva. ‘Perhaps you can take your sister to Ostia. Pay her passage, and see that she boards safely.’
Tertia released her, stepped back, and pulled herself together for the sake of their audience. Rufus leaned back on his stool, eyes meeting Dulcia’s across the table.
