I couldn’t get over the fact that he didn’t observe my bridle with the same wariness or disgust that most people did. Especially the one I’d worn today. Some sick part of me wished I’d worn the prettier one.
Why? To impress this senator of Rome. Simply because he was handsome on the outside didn’t mean he wasn’t the same monster on the inside like all the others. Actually, it was likely worse since he could hide his inner beast with such pretty trappings.
“Salve, Senator,” I said calmly, regaining my poise as I walked to the outside of the counter in front of him. “I come for the same reasons all women come to Euphemia.” I angled my head curiously. “What are you doing here?”
Euphemia had all manner of customers, most of them women, but certainly many were men. However, they were free Romans—humans—of the Aventine who frequented her shop. After all, this pharmakopoles was tucked away in a backstreet between two brothels.
Trajan’s expression blanked. He was hiding something.
“In all of my visits to this shop, I’ve never seen a Roman nobleman here.”
His mouth quirked up on one side. He knew this was as odd as I thought, and he didn’t answer my question.
“It’s Tribune, actually.”
“Pardon?”
“I am a tribune of the senate, not a senator.”
It was my turn to stand in silent wonder. “You stand for the common people?” I asked, dumbfounded.
“I do. I hold the right to veto laws put forth by the senate that are unjust to the plebs.”
“Then you have much work to do,” I snapped, before adding, “Tribune.”
I noticed movement at the window. Grigor peered in with a frown, obviously not liking that I was speaking with another man. He’d brave Euphemia’s witchcraft shortly to drag me out and would likely report this to Valerius.
Before I took two steps, his fingers touched my arm. “Wait a moment.” I froze, staring up at him, wide-eyed. “Please.” He pulled his hand away. “I apologize.”
I froze, not because I was offended that he touched me—though that was strictly forbidden—but for the onslaught of emotion engulfing me. Instantly, I remembered last night, something I’d forgotten until this very moment.My hand gripped his arm, my blood seeping into his pores. I’d never done anything like that before, and yet it felt important… necessary.
As soon as I did, I could see who he was on the inside—troubled, frustrated, furious, imperfect, but above all else, he was good. My magic had whispered to me in the temple.
Yes. This blue-eyedtribuneof Rome was not of the ilk of Valerius. My blood read him and gave me a true account. That’s why when he asked for a moment, I faced him, folded my hands demurely in front of me, and nodded.
“Meet me in the garden when you’re done, Tribune Tiberius,” Euphemia called to him, while she smiled at me.
Tiberius. After listening to dozens of mundane conversations atValerius’s parties, I knew that name enough to know it held importance. It was an old name, an honored one among the dragon households.
Euphemia and Thea disappeared behind the curtain, obviously giving us privacy. If it were anyone else, I’d fear they thought I was having an affair with him and would tell Valerius. But Euphemia hated the nobility, which had me wondering how she knew Trajan.
Trajan watched them go then turned his attention back to me. Though I’d been oblivious to the attention of men for years, I couldn’t ignore the spark of pleasure warming me from his obvious admiration, even while I wore this hideous muzzle.
“Are you well?”
I blinked. “Yes.”
“I mean, is your injury all right?” He gestured toward my leg hidden beneath my stola.
Though I was a slave and forbidden to wear Valerius’s house color outside of his home, he liked me to wear fine stolas of cream and beige. No one could mistake me for anything but a slave with the bridle around my face and the chained collar around my neck, but he wanted to show me off as his pretty pet even when he wasn’t around.
I should’ve blushed at remembering that Trajan had caught me in an unattractive position last night. But for some reason, it didn’t bother me that he knew.
“I’m fine.”
“Good.” He exhaled a breath of relief, which seemed real, not pretend. “I was afraid you needed some extra healing salves from Euphemia, and that’s why you are here today.” He gestured toward my bag over my shoulder.
“No. My reasons for being here are none of your business.”
