She whimpered and made herself smaller, tucking her wings close, curling her tail around her body in a protective manner. I stared at the collar, remembering the muzzle I’d worn for so many years.
“I’m so sorry,” I whispered down to her, my heart breaking in half as a tear slipped down my face.
She chirped in a birdlike call, holding my gaze, as if she understood we were the same. Or we had been. We were indeed kindred spirits—both of us knowing the pain of imprisonment, of despair and desperation for freedom.
I hummed softly the tune of “The Mother Song,” hoping it might give her some kind of comfort, even for a moment. Her chirp turned into a purr as she stared and listened, her gaze haunted but benevolent.
Suddenly, she growled and snapped her sharp teeth up toward me. I jumped right as someone grabbed me from behind. A praetorian jerked me by the arms to my feet.
“What have we here?”
XXIIITRAJAN
“Stay close to me,” I told Grandfather as we walked up the white marble steps into Caesar’s palace. “Don’t let anyone draw you away.”
I glanced back at Lupus and Jovian, who watched the crowd keenly. Their father, a gladiator champion of the arena, had taught them well in combat skills. We may need them tonight.
“Don’t worry, son. I’m aware this could get ugly.”
His regal gaze was calm and unreadable as always, but there was aglint in his eyes, telling me that his dragon wasn’t simply slumbering in the deep.
“Salve, Consul,” said one of the senators wearing deep purple.
We both made the niceties as we walked through the ornate hall, greeting friends and enemies alike. A flash of the last time I’d been here, the sound of the crack whipping in my memory, the stench of rotting corpses.
I almost thought they’d still be there in the open courtyard near Igniculus’s statue, but when we entered the grand area, there was nothing but finery and velvet sofas and silk cushions—all in shades of red and black.
A group of musicians played a lively tune with flutes and pipe instruments, two percussionists beating in tempo on a tympanum and tambourine. Nude dancers twirled—each with a red dragon breathing fire painted across their breasts, the body and wings painted down their bellies and the tails painted between their legs, wrapping up to curl on their backs.
“That’s new,” muttered Grandfather.
True, Caesar always paraded his most beautiful slaves in near nudity at his parties. But this was more provocative than ever before.
“It seems he’s dazzling his sycophants even closer.”
From where we stood looking across the party, there were several generals and senior officers watching the dancers, their dragons glittering bright in their eyes. One of them was Quintus. My entire body went rigid at the sight of him ogling a pretty black-haired dancer who whirled past him.
“There he is.” Grandfather took two goblets from a passing servant and handed me one. “Smile and pretend to enjoy this madness.”
Caesar stood on a dais where he normally did for these events, a throne-like settee set highest among a pile of pillows and other sofas.This was where he’d gather his most loyal men for the night’s revels. Julian used to sit at his righthand side.
I took a sip of wine, relishing the fact that he was no longer there. Soon, I’d not be required to attend these heinous parties anymore either.
With one sweeping glance, I could see the tightness on many noble faces—men and women—wondering who would be the target for Caesar’s grotesque display tonight. And why was it so imperative that we were all here?
Igniculus looked lethal as ever, even though I was sure he was deep in his cups. He always wore a sort of superior gloat, his eyes glassy when he drank heavily. And it was known he typically started drinking early for parties.
His hair was cropped close to his large skull, his features stark and terrifying in their abnormality, more aligned with the dragon than the man. His eyes were fiery gold as they surveyed the room. It was the only part of him that reminded me of his nephew, my dear friend.
When those eyes landed on me, his roaming stopped, his gaze piercing.
“Trajan! Gaius!” He waved us over in a deceitfully friendly manner. Chills prickled up my spine.
Noting that Drussus stood next to him and where the guards were in the room, I stepped in front of my grandfather, wanting to take the brunt of any punishment that was about to follow.
The music and dancing continued, but many had dropped their voices to a whisper, watching as we wove a path through the courtyard and stepped up to the dais.
“Glad you could come to our celebration of Legatus Drussus’s great victory,” said Igniculus, knowing full well no one could refuse the invitation, even though we’d tried.
