Max, for one, didn’t mind if Hortensius’s men wanted to give Silvanus a couple more whacks for good measure, but he cleared his throat, hoping to change the direction of the conversation. “I can tell you what I know, but Volusia will have to share the full story when she’s able to speak. Volusia figured out that Silvanus, Avitus’s secretary, poisoned him back in Narbo, on Petronax's orders. It seems he tried to attack her to keep her quiet.” He didn’t know how Silvanus had been convinced to murder Avitus, but judging by this giant house, money must have been involved.
Hortensius surveyed Silvanus dispassionately. “Will you confess to the murder of Avitus under oath?”
Silvanus’s lip curled. “Why would I condemn myself?”
“We have the testimony of a respected lady,” Hortensius said. He turned to Volusia. “Will you testify to what you know under oath?”
She nodded.
Silvanus glared at her. “So then you’ll have me killed anyway. I won’t confess.”
Volusia raised a hand, drawing everyone’s attention. “Mercy,” she whispered.
Hortensius gave her a look of incomprehension. “You’re asking for mercy for the man who was a moment away from killing you?”
For once, Max agreed with the consul. Even Silvanus looked skeptical.
Volusia cleared her throat. “He had…no choice. Impossible situation.”
Max understood: if Silvanus had refused to carry out Petronax’s bidding, he would have met a similar fate as Avitus.
Hortensius considered for a moment, then turned back to Silvanus. “If you give a full confession, including information on Petronax, who must have put you up to this, then I will see that you receive a sentence of exile. You’ll keep your head, though you’ll never set foot in the Republic again.”
Silvanus’s jaw tensed. “Fine. I’ll talk.”
Hortensius gave another signal to the lictors, and they dragged Silvanus away. Hortensius approached Volusia. “Can my men escort you home?”
Volusia opened her mouth and glanced at Max.
Max folded his arms over his chest. “I’llsee her home.”
Volusia smiled at Hortensius and nodded.
The consul’s lips tightened. “As you wish.”
He turned to leave, but Volusia raised a hand and cleared her throat. “Pet…ronax,” she whispered.
“I think she wants to know what will happen to Petronax,” Max clarified.
Hortensius shot him an icy glare. “Obviously.” He returned his attention to Volusia. “Assuming Silvanus gives us satisfactory information that confirms Petronax’s guilt, I will send a small force to Narbo. Petronax will be quietly done away with…much as he did away with Avitus.”
“You’re going to have him assassinated, rather than bring him to trial publicly?” Max asked.
Hortensius’s lips thinned even further. He did not deign to look at Max, but kept his focus on Volusia. “Learning of the corruption of a celebrated commander would destabilize the Republic more than it already has been due to the civil war. Publicizing Petronax’s treachery would not be a prudent decision.”
Volusia nodded. “Understood,” she whispered.
“If that is all, I must return to other matters.” Hortensius inclined his head to Volusia. “I’ll send a messenger tomorrow to ensure that you’re recovering well.”
He left, followed by the remaining lictors. Max helped Volusia to her feet. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
She held up a hand. “One thing…first.” She stood on her tiptoes and tilted her face up to kiss him, picking up where they’d left off before Hortensius interrupted them.
Joy swept over him in a heady rush. He cradled her face in his hands as he kissed her back, careful of her bruises.
“I love you, Max,” she murmured against his cheek, her voice gaining strength. “City, country…wherever we go, I’ll love you.”
He couldn’t speak, but he hugged her as tight as he dared, enfolding her in his arms. She was everything he had ever wanted. For the first time in a while, he could see the rest of his life spread before him, bright with hope.
