“Lady, are you injured?” one of the litter-bearers asked.
She opened her mouth again, but only a breathy croak came out. She shook her head.
“I think she’ll be all right,” Max said. “We need to deal with him.” He gestured to Silvanus, now groaning and wriggling as he slowly returned to consciousness. “Go to the home of the consul Hortensius. Tell him we have the proof he required, nearly at the expense of Volusia’s life.” He knew the consul cared for Volusia, and any hint of a threat to her would make him come right away to ensure her safety.
The litter-bearers nodded and left. As they departed, Max glimpsed another figure in the corridor behind them. One of Silvanus’s slaves, a young man, was staring wide-eyed at the bound and half-conscious figure of his master. He flinched when Max caught his eye.
“You all should leave now, while you can,” Max said to the slave. “Tell the others.” There would likely be an investigation, and if Silvanus was convicted, his slaves would be confiscated as part of his estate. There was also the unpleasant fact that the slaves would probably be questioned in any investigation, and testimony from a slave was only considered valid if extracted under torture.
The young man met his gaze, nodded quickly, then ran. Max returned to Volusia’s side. She was sitting upright, and some color had returned to her cheeks. He sat next to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, and tried to speak once more, but couldn’t summon any sound. She grasped his hand and squeezed it.
He squeezed back. He had come so close to losing her, and now, all he wanted to do was pour his heart out to her. He might lose her still, in a different way, but he had to try. This likely wasn’t the best time, with Volusia nearly strangled and a half-conscious murderer tied up on the other side of the room, but he couldn’t stand to wait a single moment more.
“I know you can’t talk right now, but I have something to say that can’t wait.” He slid off the couch, coming to kneel before her. One knee brushed a fragment of broken pottery, and his foot landed in a puddle of spilled wine, but he didn’t care. “You already know that I love you. I thought I had to give you up because I wasn’t good enough for you, and I couldn’t give you the life you needed. But I realized there’s more for me than the army life. I want to buy land in the country and breed horses, away from the city. I may not be able to teach Lucius how to give a speech or introduce him to a bunch of senators, but I can teach him how to ride a horse and throw a punch. You know all of my flaws. I’m not well-spoken or cultured or even particularly intelligent. But I swear to you, by Mars’s hairy ballsack…”
She smothered a grin even as her eyes welled with tears.
He renewed his clasp of her hand. “I’ll make up for all of my faults tenfold with how much I love you.”
She gazed down at him. A tear spilled down her cheek. She traced her fingertips down his face, a gentle caress. She opened her mouth and her lips moved. Max leaned closer to hear the barely-there whisper. “Pluto…and Proserpina.”
Max blinked at her, befuddled. Had she hit her head in the fight? For a moment, he couldn’t figure out what the king and queen of the underworld had to do with this.
Then, he realized her meaning. Proserpina spent six months in the underworld with her husband, and six months in the land of the living. Volusia was suggesting she spend half the year in the countryside with him, and the other half in Rome, where she could foster her ambitions for her son.
Max shook his head vehemently. “No. I won’t spend six months apart from you. I don’t even want to spend another fucking hour apart from you ever again, Volusia.”
She held up a finger. “Not…apart. Six months…Rome. Six months…country.”
He understood her full meaning. She was suggesting a compromise, that they split their time between Rome and the countryside. Max could have six months to spend with his horses, and Volusia would have six months to participate in the social scene and engage the best tutors for her son.
That meant that Max would have to spend half the year in crowded, noisy, smelly Rome. Ordinarily, the thought would have made him shudder, but if it meant he could have Volusia at his side, he would gladly pay that price.
He nodded. “Agreed.”
She looked at him questioningly. “Army?”
“I don’t want that anymore,” Max said. “I joined the army because I wanted adventure and freedom. Adventure I found in some measure, I suppose, but there’s no freedom to be had in taking orders.” He grasped her hand. “Instead, I want to be free to love you. And loving you has already been an adventure, hasn’t it?”
A smile spread across her face. She leaned close, as if to kiss him, but drew back hastily at the sound of footsteps coming closer. Max rose to his feet as Hortensius swept in, followed by the twelve burly lictors that served as his bodyguard.
The consul’s gaze snapped to Volusia, lingering on the livid bruises that were now blooming on her throat. “What in the name of Dis happened here?” He crossed the room to stand before Volusia, concern darkening his eyes.
Max stepped forward. “She’s all right. She just can’t talk.” He gestured to Silvanus. “This was his doing.”
Hortensius pointed a commanding finger at Silvanus. “Secure him.”
Two of the lictors jumped forward and hauled the groggy Silvanus to his feet, keeping a firm grip on his arms.
Hortensius approached him. “Why did you attack the lady Volusia?”
Silvanus squinted at him, his gaze hazy. “Because the bitch was going to ruin everything.”
Hortensius made a quick gesture, and one of the lictors struck Silvanus in the face, bloodying his lip.
Volusia cast Max a distressed look. Trust her to be so softhearted that she didn’t even want to see the man who’d just tried to kill her beaten.
