Drusilla beamed at her. “Oh, I almost fell to pieces with that last shot! I was sure you’d lost it.”
Me, too.Lea couldn’t bring herself to speak, but she bowed her head in acknowledgement of their praise.
“Now,” Gaius said. “I believe I owe you a prize.” He reached for something that rested against the railing at the front of the seatingarea—the rudis, the wooden sword that granted freedom to any gladiator it was bestowed upon. “I took the liberty of anticipating what you might ask of me. Was I right?” He lifted the sword, one hand on the grip and another balancing the blunt tip, and held it out to her horizontally.
All she had to do was reach for it, close her hand around it, and freedom would be hers.
Her hand lifted, but something made her hesitate.
Her gaze flicked to Kallias once more. What if there was something she could ask for that was more valuable than her freedom?
“Well?” The emperor proffered the sword. “It’s yours, Penthesilea.”
She drew her hand back. Kallias’s brow wrinkled, and he stared hard at her, as if asking what in the underworld she was doing.
She wasn’t quite sure of that herself.
“I—I don’t want it.” The words came out breathy and timid. She cleared her throat, forcing herself to stand tall. If she were going to do this, she had to be confident and clever—like Kallias. “Thank you, but there is something else I’d ask for.”
The emperor cocked his head, but lowered the sword, leaning its tip against the floor. “Oh? What is it to be, then? Coins, jewels? Perhaps a pair of fine horses? I have a villa at Baiae—say the word and it’s yours.” He opened his arms magnanimously.
He was enjoying this, she realized—projecting the image of the benevolent ruler in front of his people. She could use that to her advantage.
She raised a hand and pointed just over the emperor’s shoulder, straight at Kallias. “Him. I want him.”
Kallias shot to his feet, his golden skin blanching. “Lea,” he hissed.
The emperor swiveled to look where she pointed, then turned back to her, frowning in befuddlement. “My physician? What can you possibly want with him?”
“I seem to have a habit of injuring myself.” Lea gestured to her arm, then her head. “I like him better than the one our ludus employs. He uses silk thread.”
She spoke with the language of ownership and possession, a language she expected the emperor would understand. For even though the emperor had legally freed Kallias, he’d never treated his physician as if he were a free man.
Gaius stared at her. “You can’t have him. Pick something else.”
“No.” Lea took a step closer to him, allowing her gaze to travel over the courtiers watching as avidly as if this were a theater performance. Some whispered behind their hands.
The emperor’s eyes flicked to them for a moment before returning to her. Good: remind him he had an audience.
She lifted her chin. “Did I misunderstand the terms of the competition?”
“Ineedhim,” Gaius said, ignoring her question.
If she hadn’t been so tense, it might have amused her that it didn’t even occur to Gaius to object on the grounds that Kallias was not technically his to give away.
Lea raised her eyebrows. “Forgive me, I didn’t realize you were ill.” She borrowed the argument she’d heard Velia use on the Praetorians.
“I’m not,” he said immediately.
“So you have no need of a physician, then.” She strove to keep her tone light, innocent, as if they were discussing anything but the fate of the man she loved. “Release him from your service.”
A flash of anger tightened the emperor’s features. Lea knew she was on dangerous ground, relying on little but his desire to keep his word and appear to be an even-handed, generous ruler in front of his courtiers.
Drusilla stepped forward and curled her arm around his, twining their fingers together. “You don’t need him,” she murmured in his ear. “You know you don’t. We only need each other.”
He murmured something in reply, too low for Lea to hear, and they turned away to confer.
During the brief pause, Lea’s gaze returned to Kallias. He was staring at her in shock, fists clenched. Then he shook his head, breaking free of his horrified trance. “No. I won’t stand for this.” He strode forward, grasped the wooden sword, and thrust it at Lea. “Take it. This is what you deserve.”
