With Kallias, wanting him felt more complicated. Their lives were so different, and neither of them were free to do as they pleased.
No matter the complications, she wasn’t interested in hearing Jason’s opinion on Kallias. Not when she could still feel the press of his lips on hers, the warmth of his body, the gentle confidence in his hands. Not when she’d just watched him stand up for her to the emperor himself.
Abruptly, she rose from the table, clutching her bowl in one hand. “See you later,” she muttered, and left the dining hall.
15
Leaforcedherselftosit still as Kallias removed her bandages. It was the day before her fight, and nerves twisted around her like a prickly vine. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d been this nervous before a fight. Perhaps her very first one, eight long years ago.
Her weeks of enforced rest made her feel like she’d lost every scrap of skill and strength she possessed. Earlier that day, she’d tried to run a lap around the training ground, and it left her huffing and puffing like an old crone. Her hand didn’t seem to remember how to hold a sword.
Lea had debated attempting to back out of the fight, telling Lucullus she’d realized she wasn’t recovered enough, but she sensed a delay would only make it worse. Best to get it over with, come what may. She’d seen gladiators who took too long to recover lose all their confidence and instincts, which could have deadly consequences.
She fidgeted with the tattered edge of a rag as Kallias examined her arm. What if she made a fool of herself in front of twenty thousand people?
A darker fear intruded. What if she lost? What if the emperor seized the opportunity to punish her for the incident at the palace the other day?
She let out a shaky breath. What if tomorrow’s fight was her last?
A furrow appeared between Kallias’s brows. “Is it hurting more than usual? It appears to be healing well.”
Of course, he was observant enough to notice her discomfiture. “No,” she said, the syllable clipped and terse.
He pulled a set of tweezers from his satchel. “Something’s bothering you.”
She didn’t meet his gaze, but gave a jerky shake of her head in denial.
“I don’t believe you,” he murmured as he bent over her arm.
She waited while he carefully removed each silken stitch. It took much longer than she thought it should, and her feet itched to move, to work off this nervous energy. Finally, he finished and re-bandaged her arm.
As soon as he tied off the linen wrapping, she was on her feet, pacing in a tight circle around the small room.
She flexed her arm with a grimace. “It still hurts.”
“It’s healing. I don’t think you’ve rested it as much as you should have.”
She glared at him. “I’ve been resting so much it’s driving me mad,” she spat.
He surveyed her with the same evaluative gaze he used to assess her injury. She worried all her fears were revealed to his gaze—along with the fact that she’d lied to him about not fighting tomorrow.
Even worse, shewantedto confess. Wanted him to comfort her, to soothe her worries and chase away her fears.
But maybe there was a way for him to comfort her without revealing her deception. There was one thing that would distract her, and Kallias was just the person to give it to her. She knew he wanted her. He was only being polite after she’d gently rebuffed him in their last meeting.
Kallias turned away to pack up his supplies, wrapping the used tools in a piece of linen and stowing them in his satchel.
Lea pulled her dress over her head, rendering her naked but for the bandage on her arm.
Kallias looked up. The strap of his satchel slipped from his fingers, and the bag tumbled to the floor.
Perhaps she should have gone about this in a subtler way, but Lea had never been one for subtlety.
Lea tossed aside her dress and came toward him. He made some sort of incoherent noise, a tangle of garbled syllables. Yes, that was good—if he was overcome with desire, he wouldn’t question why she was suddenly steering him into bed.
He took a step back, and his knees seemed to fold, causing him to sit down hard on the stool beside her table. She braced a knee on his thigh, leaning her body into him. He felt good against her, warm and lean. “I hope you don’t have to rush back to the palace.”
“Lea,” he croaked. “What are you doing?”
