“That is why this makes me nervous. No one is talking. Or no one knows. Neither of which is good for us.” He lifted his glass in greeting to a passing senator. “We need to stop recruitment. We simply can’t trust anyone we haven’t already vetted.”
“I spoke to Agrippa yesterday in the forum. His son, Marcellus, has many in his command he believes will ally with us.”
“No. We can’t afford to take the chance. I’ll speak to Agrippa. He should be here tonight.”
“But we need the numbers, Grandfather,” I added insistently. “We need an army of our own, actually.”
He finally turned his ice-blue gaze on me. “That strategy isn’t possible now without certain death. We must return to our original plan.”
“Without Julian? We have no one who can get close to the emperor now.”
“Unfortunately for us. We must figure out how. Without Julian.”
I ground my teeth together, biting back the curse burning in my throat. I understood that Julian saw no other choice when he killed Ciprian to save Malina. But our original plan was for a mass execution of Caesar and his most loyal generals and praetorians on the same day, within the same hour. Julian was the one to execute his own uncle. Now that Igniculus was more paranoid than ever, I didn’t see this plan working anymore. Grandfather was cautious, and obstinate. The original plan simply wouldn’t work now.
“What of your dinner with Valerius?” he asked.
“I have confirmation that he is indeed the foulest, most repulsive Roman in the city besides Caesar.”
“Speak lower. And I was already aware of that. What else?”
“He had news that Drussus has surrounded the band of Germanic warriors we encountered in Moesia.”
He turned to meet my gaze. “The ones you and Julian thought to approach.”
“Yes. And the praeco confirmed that Drussus is nearing a victory over them. That plan may be all for naught as well.”
Just then, Valerius stepped through the archway into the triclinium with Quintus at his side. He held his arrogant head high as he entered. Several senators flocked to his side with deferential bows and greetings. Fawning like the fucking sycophants they were.
“Stop that,” muttered Grandfather.
I jerked my attention to him. “What?”
“Your beast is here. Press him back.”
That’s when I realized a deep rumble vibrated in my chest. Loud enough for the wife of a senator to turn and eye me warily. She stepped closer to her husband.
Exhaling a deep breath, I managed to gain control. I hadn’t even known my dragon was close, stirring to full wakefulness when that piece of filth Valerius stepped into the room.
“That one needs to die soon, Grandfather. It can’t wait much longer.”
“You sound like Julian. It can wait. It must wait. Do notdeviatefrom the plan.”
“As of now, we don’t really have one, do we?”
He made a chastising grunt in his throat. “Don’t be rash, my son. We must be patient.”
Valerius spotted me and made an obvious line directly toward me, Quintus breaking off toward the sofas and feasting tables.
“Salve, Trajan.”
He should’ve greeted me by my title of tribune, not my given name, as if we were friends. We weren’t fucking friends.
“Consul,” I said evenly, noting that though he was a tall dragon, I still had several inches on him. And more than a few stones of muscle.
Though I’d spent more time in the senate house than on a battlefield as of late, my body was fit and well. I also understood that my fixation on our physical differences meant my dragon was guiding my thoughts. He was likely shining bright in my eyes.
Valerius grinned in that superior way of his. “I heard you ran into my slave Lela. That you had private words with her.”
