I shoved off him, feeling the sharp pain of transformation burning in my veins as my dragon tried to edge me out. Pushing past the servants who’d gathered around at the sound of trouble, I hurried through the exit before anyone from the party saw.
Storming out into the night, I tried to wrangle the beast back into the cave. He wanted out. He wanted to kill. But the only death that would satisfy was that of the dragon back inside that party. I’d kept my sisters tucked away safely from Rome, but Valerius was Caesar’s favorite puppet. And Quintus was his most loyal dog. If he asked for a betrothal to one of my eligible sisters, Caesar could command it.
Nausea stirred in my belly. I stepped toward the stables and gripped the wall, spitting the bile that filled my mouth.
“Sir?” The stableman stepped forward with the reins of my horse Apollo. “Can I assist you?”
Heaving another breath, I stood straight. “Not unless you can murder a man for me.”
“Sir?”
I lifted myself into the saddle and launched into a gallop, knowing full well nothing would sate the beast tonight. Nothing but one thing… blood.
VILELA
“What does she mean?” asked Andreas, sitting on my bed while I held the missive that the noblewoman had given me. Sitting at my vanity, I stared down at the note.
My bedchamber was more luxurious than and set apart from the other slaves’ quarters. Valerius liked to pretend that I was precious to him by keeping me in a cage of silk and finery.
“I don’t know,” I finally answered.
“Read it again,” he urged me.
It was written in Latin, and Andreas couldn’t read, not in any language. Fortunately, Bunica had taught me and my sisters well. When we asked why we had to suffer through learning the enemy’s tongue, she’d simply said, “You’ll need it one day.” We didn’t argue further because we believed everything Bunica told us. At least, back then I did.
“It says,I believe we can learn much from the Greeks. I thought you might enjoy the wisdom of Thucydides.Then she leaves two quotes. One reads,Justice will not come to Athens until those who are not injured are as indignant as those who are injured.And the second reads,the secret to happiness is freedom and the secret to freedom is courage.”
“Why should we care about the Greeks in Athens?” Andreas asked.
“I don’t think she’s speaking of the Greeks.”
Andreas stood and paced beside my bed. He visited me every night before we both went to sleep. Valerius never minded him being in my bedchamber since Andreas preferred male lovers. Besides, Valerius had made it abundantly clear to his male slaves that they would die if they dared touch me.
“Have you met this noblewoman before?” he asked.
“No. I mean, I never actually meet any of the patricians I come in contact with.”
“I haven’t ever seen her at one of Valerius’s parties,” he noted.
“She hasn’t been here,” I agreed, knowing I’d committed all of those faces to memory. “But I did see her once at a taberna that sold fine silks and cloths.”
“Did she speak to you?”
“No. She stared at me, but everyone does that.”
I gestured to the bridle I’d worn today, still sitting on my vanity table. The others lined the wall of shelves across from my bed.
“Perhaps she simply wanted to send you some inspiring words. To be kind.”
“No,” I said, remembering the strange encounter in the street yesterday, “it was more than that. You should’ve seen her expression. She’d given it to me in secret. There was an earnestness in her eyes.”
“It makes no sense.”
“And these words aren’t kind, Andreas,” I went on. “They’re cruel. To point out that freedom is the guide to happiness? To say that tome.”
I scoffed and folded the parchment, dropping it among my bottles of ointments and lotions on the vanity.
“Unless,” added Andreas, crossing his arms, “her message is about finding the courage to be free.”
