Something about tonight had me on edge, feeling fragile and raw. It was no different than any other dinner party Valerius had, so I wasn’t sure why.
My gaze landed on the handsome senator Trajan, finding his piercing blue eyes on me again. I was surprised he didn’t look at me the way Valerius or Quintus did. His brow furrowed as if he were trying to work out a puzzle.
There was no puzzle here, I wanted to tell him. I was exactly what he saw. A woman with the power to kill my enemies who’d been silenced and muzzled in a golden bridle and iron fear.
Miserable despair began to sink its claws into me. If I didn’t get this cage off my face soon, I’d edge toward the brink of insanity again. It had happened before, and Andreas had found me catatonic on the floor of my bedchamber.
Andreas lifted his chin toward the doorway, telling me to slip away. Valerius had allowed it many times before. Once I’d served my purpose to impress his visitors, I wasn’t of much use. Not for the party anyway. One reprieve I could be grateful for was that Valerius didn’t share his slaves with his guests. We were all for his use and abuse alone.
When Roza spun to the far side of the room, luring the eyes of the men, I eased down the steps, but not before catching the blue-fire gaze of the young senator. On silent feet, I slipped out of the triclinium and down the long hallway toward the Temple of Diana.
My heart beat faster, blood surging through my veins, my mind and body aching for relief. For release.
Lit by oil lamps in sconces, the sculpture of the goddess of the hunt within the circular temple loomed ahead. It was in a small chamber ensconced by pillars and plants, with an oculus opening to the sky above.
The goddess Diana was the one who struck the heart of a Sapphirus dragon with her arrow while he had sex with her favorite nymph, Egeria. When her arrow struck him, he instantly lost his blue coloring for the shade of the meadow. The story is told that while Diana despised the dragon for taking her nymph’s affections without her consent, the higher gods sanctioned the match by not killing him and spawning a new class of dragon. That was how the Chrysocolla House was born. And why they revered Diana as their patron goddess.
I worshipped her for a different reason. Her white marble sculpture depicted a fierce warrior, her wings spread, bow drawn and aimed at some unseen enemy. Delicate horns curled out of her head, short stolapushed tight against her strong body, brow creased in concentration as she held an enemy in her sights.
I imagined she was aiming atmyenemy, my master, and that was why I knelt at her feet as I did now. This quiet, cold place was the only room in the house where I found solace and a small sense of comfort.
Sliding my fingertips along the cold stone, I reached behind the potted plant where I kept my hidden key and stolen knife, closing my eyes in welcome anticipation of the relief I always found here in the silence and the dark.
IITRAJAN
I was going to empty my guts on Valerius’s silk sofa if I didn’t get out of here soon. I’d always hated the man for multiple reasons—his arrogance, his corruption, his greed—but now I had one more reason to want to slit his throat. She had just exited the room.
In Emperor Igniculus’s climb to power, I’d witnessed a great deal of shameless depravity. Dragons by nature are possessive creatures. We all wanted our own treasure and to keep it protected in our lairs.
But Igniculus had only empowered the corrupt to want and to seize more than was natural, to give in to their twisted cravings, their monstrous desires.
Why else would Valerius treat his slave Lela in such a despicable manner? She was dressed like a patrician wife, which was a mockery since she was in fact his slave. On top of that, he’d put that fucking bridle on her face. Out of his own fear of her power, he’d muzzled her in gold and forced her to stand there like one of his sculptures for our amusement. Men like him were the reason Rome needed to be washed clean. I wanted to slit his throat right here and now.
“I hear General Drussus is taking care of those marauders up north that your legion couldn’t,” said Quintus, smirking at me as he gestured for more wine.
“Which marauders might that be?” I asked passively, watching the male pouring the wine.
He was tall and fit. I wondered if he was loyal to his master or if he would look the other way if someone invaded this home with the purpose to kill Valerius.
“The ones who razed Singidium. The barbarians your sad excuse for a general let get away.”
Now, he had my attention.
“Is that so? Drussus found them?” I asked, keeping my voice steady and bored.
“Reports coming in say more than that,” added Valerius. “He’s surrounded some of them.”
I couldn’t keep my expression passive. “Surrounded them?” I asked, leaning forward eagerly. “Where?”
Valerius grinned. He savored being the one with the most information in a room and what little power he believed it gave him.
“Indeed, they have.” He chuckled darkly. “It won’t be long before we hear of a surrender.”
“Drussus is sure the marauders are the same we encountered in Moesia?” I asked, still dumbfounded, for I knew a secret about those marauders that Julian and I had kept to ourselves. We were positive that they weren’t simply a band of marauders, but an army of dragons. Our encounter with them in Moesia pointed to that fact, especially the encounters both Julian and his woman Malina had with the enemy there.
“That’s what they’re saying,” said Quintus, reaching for another slab of seasoned pork on the platter. “They were caught in the act of razing another Roman province to the north of Thrace.”
“I’m sure Caesar will reward Drussus handsomely if he manages to get their king,” added Leto, belching as he leaned back on his chaise.
