I shake my head.One of my old patrons would have me brought to her in a palanquin carried by her servants.I don’t want to remember those times.
“I’ll walk, thank you.Just give me directions.”
I enjoy walking down into the city, enjoy doing it without Rowan by my side.I could wander the city to see what else I can find here, but for now, I concentrate on heading straight for Marcus’ home.
It’s an elegant villa set on the fringes of the noble district, with high walls around the outside.I reach out with my powers and feel the presence of a peacock, then look through its eyes briefly, seeing a garden laid out to be utterly peaceful, with olive trees at its corners.I pull my consciousness back into myself, heading for the door.
A servant meets me there, an older man who bows deeply to me.
“My lady Lyra,” he says.“Lord Marcus said that you might come.Please, let me show you through to him.”
He leads the way into the villa.I’ve seen the wealth of nobles, the gilded and highly decorated homes they favor.This isn’t quite the same.There’s still wealth on display here, in the elegant mosaics on the floor depicting voyages across the sea, in the statues and the artwork collected here.
But this isn’t a place filled with gold and jewels, the kind of ostentatious display I’ve seen elsewhere.There’s a kind of simplicity to the villa I like.
The servant leads me through to a room dominated by a large, marble table with couches on either side.Marcus is sitting on one of them, dressed now in a tunic woven with the symbols of a merchant house, a necklace lying over it that depicts a ship.The tunic clings to him, showing off his muscles.It’s hard not to stare.He smiles and stands as I enter.
“Lyra, I’m so glad you could come.”He gestures to one of the couches.“Please, take a seat.”
“I almost didn’t come here,” I say.
“Afraid that I was going to try to influence you to my cause?”Marcus says.
I raise an eyebrow.“Aren’t you?”
“Perhaps,” Marcus says, sounding amused.“But you came anyway.”
“Perhaps I want to see how you plan to influence me,” I counter, finally taking a seat on the couch he’s gestured to.
“What were you hoping for?”Marcus asks, sitting opposite me, with another faint smile.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were teasing me,” I say.
He shrugs.“Tease the deadliest gladiator of the arena?I wouldn’t dare.Can I try offering you wine, instead?”
His servant is already moving to bring a jug of wine, along with goblets.Marcus pours, passing me a goblet filled with a deep red wine that tastes better than most I’ve had.
“I import this wine,” he says.“It’s one of my more profitable enterprises.I’ve asked the servants to prepare food for us.”
“So you assumed I’d come?”I say.
“I thought it was worth the risk,” he replies.“And I suspected you’d want to talk to me.”
“Is that because you thought I’d be interested in politics, or in getting to know you?”I say.
He laughs.“I’m not arrogant enough to believe that I might be that interesting to you personally.”
I’m not sure about that.Marcus is handsome, definitely, and I also get the feeling that he knows he is.He has an easygoing charm that’s hard to ignore.But he doesn’t seem to use it like a weapon, doesn’t seem to be determined to woo me to his side.
“You were pushing for the games to reopen earlier,” I say.“In the senate chamber.”
Marcus nods.“In a limited form.Unlike Domitian.”
There is a clear difference between him and the former soldier who was pushing for the full reopening of the games, going back to the old fights to the death.I have to admit that.
“What would this ‘limited form’ look like?”I ask him.
Marcus pauses, looking me over as if to try to guess what I’m thinking.
