“I will bring something more later tonight. My cook knows that I prefer my meals late.”
I reached for the bread and tore off a piece. “Thank you.”
He sat quietly while I ate. I stared out the window as the sky softened from orange to pink and pale purple, the first stars appearing up high. He was quiet, seeming preoccupied, but he didn’t leave to do whatever it was he did late afternoons in his home.
Last night, I was filled with the pleasant hum of magic lingering in my veins, of having killed the man I’d hated for years. Because of that, I’d been bold in my conversation and interactions with this tribune of the senate. Now, I was hesitant, afraid what would happen to me now, still trapped in this infernal city. I was also unsure what Trajan’s plans were for me. I was careful with my words.
“What happened in the senate house today?” I finally asked, breaking off a piece of cheese.
He dragged his attention from staring into space and looked at me. “There was a vote to fill the empty consul seat.”
His expression drew tight.
“You seem disappointed. You didn’t get the appointment?”
“I got exactly what I wanted. I’m not disappointed.”
“Then why do you frown?”
“My grandfather is the new consul. If I appear unhappy, it is because this puts him in danger.” He sighed. “Nevertheless, it is necessary.”
“Your grandfather has many enemies?”
“He has very few, actually.”
“Then I don’t understand.”
He held my gaze, his eyes midnight blue and piercing. “What did Fausta give to you?”
“Who?” I was thrown by the change of subject.
“Fausta Ovidius. The Media Nocte patrician woman. I saw you speaking with her in the street, and she gave you a vial.” His stern brow pinched tightly. “And a secret message on parchment.”
My pulse jumped. “I’d almost forgotten.”
“What was the message?”
I shrugged. “It’s difficult to say.”
His scowl deepened. “Try.”
Picking up the pear, I palmed it in my lap, still having little appetite. “The note had quotes by a Greek philosopher.”
“What?” he asked in disbelief.
“It’s true. Something about freedom and happiness.”
He laughed. “That makes no sense.”
I shrugged. “I believe she was encouraging me to escape any way I could. Though I don’t know why she cared.”
“She knows the penalty is death for a slave who tries to run away. And Fausta isn’t a fool. She doesn’t randomly send inspiring quotes to slaves.” He narrowed his eyes accusingly. “What else did it say?”
“I’ve told you what it said,” I snapped, annoyed. “It preached about having the courage to be free. I happened to like the idea so I burieda knife in Valerius’s heart.” I stood abruptly and dropped the pear on the sofa, walking to face the terrace.
The sun melted away, night folding her arms over the city. Trajan’s home was farther up Palatine Hill than Valerius’s. I’d never seen Rome from this height. It disturbed me how lovely it was here. How absolutely beautiful the city was with demons lurking everywhere.
“I’m not sure that’s what she meant for you to do.”
