As the dawn brightness grew, he regretfully stirred, slipping his body out from beneath her as gently as he could. He rose to his feet and donned his discarded tunic.
Lea shifted in the bed, her eyes fluttering open. “You’re leaving?” The disappointment in her voice stabbed him in the heart.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I have to get back.” He leaned down to kiss her. He aimed for her forehead, but she turned her face up so his lips met hers. Her hand wound over his shoulder, holding him in place for a deep kiss.
He forced himself to break away. If she kissed him like that for much longer, they’d end up in bed again, and he’d never make it out of this room.
She caught her breath, a flush staining her cheeks. “I’m fighting again on Thursday.” The games should have been over by now, but a few days ago, the emperor had announced a two-week extension to the games, just as Kallias predicted. Gaius had also formally declared Drusilla as his heir, and the additional two weeks of the games would celebrate her new honors.
Kallias understood her meaning. “Wednesday night, then?”
She smiled. “If you should find yourself available.”
“I’ll be here.” He lifted her hand to his lips, kissed it, then allowed himself one last glance at her—her bare body soft yet powerful, scarred yet utterly perfect—before compelling his feet to move toward the door.
25
Kalliashadbeencountingthe hours until he’d return to Lea on Wednesday evening. He couldn’t stop thinking of her and the fact that she loved him. Finally—finally—the hour arrived when he and Sextus tidied up the workroom for the day, then headed for the exit together. As they walked, Kallias quizzed Sextus on the healing properties of various plants, pleased with the young man’s quick and correct answers.
As they rounded a corner, they came within earshot of the narrow passage that led to the dining room, an alternate route through which servants ferried food and drink from the kitchens.
A strange noise caught Kallias’s attention—not the usual clamor of music and congenial conversation in a crowded dining room, but shouts of panic, and then a loud crash.
“What was that?” Sextus asked in consternation.
Kallias paused. Something was amiss. Was it just the rowdiness of a party, or something more sinister? “I’m not sure.”
Instinct urged him to quicken his pace and make for the exit before he could get swept up in whatever was happening, but a sinking sense of dread held him back. If the emperor asked for him and found him missing, things would not go well.
Before he could decide whether to stay or leave, a white-faced servant raced down the passage from the dining room. Theyoung woman stumbled to a halt when she saw them. “Sir,” she gasped, struggling to catch her breath. “I was just coming to find you. It’s the lady Drusilla—something’s wrong! She’s been poisoned!”
A bolt of alarm shot through Kallias. Could this be true? Was Drusilla in danger?
His mind immediately summoned the potential remedies he had at hand—purgatives, charcoal to absorb the poison, several other herbs and decoctions—but everything depended on what she had actually ingested.
“I must fetch the proper supplies,” Kallias said to the maid. “I’ll be there straightaway. Sextus, come with me.”
Kallias turned around and ran back to his workroom, throwing open the door and grabbing several jars and bottles off his shelves and giving quick instructions to Sextus to fetch some other items. In the back of his mind, he worried about Lea—this might disrupt his plan to see her. What would she think if he didn’t show up tonight?
But if Drusilla was in danger, that had to take precedence.
Sextus gathered everything into a satchel as Kallias directed. He wore a worried frown, but he didn’t panic or fuss, which gratified Kallias. He briefly debated sending Sextus home, but Sextus would need to learn how to manage fraught situations like this.
Once they had the essentials, Kallias beckoned Sextus to follow him, and they raced down the corridors until they reached the dining room.
Gesturing for Sextus to stay near the doorway, Kallias quickly took stock of the scene. The room was empty apart from Gaius,Drusilla, and a collection of wary guards and nervous servants. The other dinner guests must have either been expelled or fled.
One of the low tables had been toppled, spilling food and dinnerware onto the floor.
Drusilla sat upright on a couch, a hand pressed to her cheek, looking anxious but not as unwell as Kallias had feared. Gaius paced in a tight, frenzied circle before her.
Kallias made straight for Drusilla, but Gaius intercepted him. The emperor’s shaking hands grasped Kallias’s arms in a bruising grip. “You have to s-s-save her,” Gaius hissed. “If anything should happen to her—”
Kallias decided not to let him finish that sentence. “Allow me to examine her.”
Gaius released him, and Kallias knelt next to Drusilla’s couch. “What ails you, my lady?”
“Just give her an antidote!” Gaius barked.
