Exhilaration erupted within her. She jumped up and down. “Yes!” she shouted, her voice mingling with the yells of the thousands of spectators.
Her uncle glanced at her, his lips curved in a smile. He was pleased too, even if he was a bit more dignified in showing it.
The crowd chanted Ferox’s name. Velia whooped again, unable to hold back her joy. He’d not only survived, but won. Not that she should have expected any different.
Ferox’s helmeted head angled up toward the emperor and his retinue. The emperor was still clapping and celebrating along with everyone else, but after a moment, the ruler seemed toremember that he had a job to do. He extended a hand in a closed fist, the gesture for mercy.
Ferox lowered his sword. The other gladiator picked up his shield, and they departed through opposite sides of the arena.
Velia bounced on her toes as Ferox approached. She wanted to leap into his arms, but held back for her uncle’s sake.
Lucullus clapped Ferox on the shoulder. “Well done. You pleased the emperor greatly. I could see it even from here.”
Ferox nodded respectfully, pulling off his helmet. His skin glistened with sweat, but he was entirely uninjured. “Thank you.”
“You did it!” Velia crowed, the elation of his victory still flooding her.
Ferox turned to her. There was reserve in his gaze, which Velia attributed to her uncle’s presence. For a moment, she thought he would only nod to her and depart, but then he suddenly bent down, retrieved something on the ground, and stood back up. He reached for her hand and pressed something into it. Warmth flooded her at his touch, dizzying her so she didn’t even register what he’d given her.
By the time she recovered herself, he’d already dropped her hand and disappeared, continuing through the passage. Velia looked down at her palm. He’d given her the fallen tie to her braid.
She closed her fingers over the strip of leather. His thoughtfulness bewildered her. He’d just triumphed in his first fight after a long absence, and he’d stopped to pick up her fallen tie, which she herself had hardly noticed.
Her hand tingled where he’d touched her, sparking a wave of heat that settled in her core. Despite her lingering soreness, shewanted him again. Unfortunately, she sensed she’d have to wait a day or two before her body would permit it.
If their coupling was to continue—as she very much hoped it would—they’d have to make some adjustments. She didn’t want to spend days after each encounter hobbling around, much less be rendered out of action for further trysts.
Because there definitely would be further trysts, if Velia had anything to say about it.
After the day of games finished, Velia returned to the ludus with her uncle. None of his gladiators had died, all injuries were minor, and many had been victorious. An excellent day overall.
Velia hadn’t seen Achilles or Ferox since their matches. She’d leave Achilles alone, as Ferox advised.
But Ferox, she wanted to see.
First, she went to the kitchen to obtain food. In her experience, gladiators often forgot to eat after a match, their appetite sapped by the residual thrill of the fight. She piled a tray high with flatbread, a few hard-boiled eggs, cheese, and figs.
Ferox’s door was closed, but light flickered from beneath. She knocked, balancing the tray on one arm. “It’s Velia. I brought you some dinner.”
Movement sounded within, the hasty rustling of clothing—as if he was dressing. A moment later, the door swung open, revealing Ferox clad in a clean, knee-length tunic.
Velia arched an eyebrow at him as she brought the food in and set it on the tiny table against the wall. “You needn’t have dressed. Nothing I haven’t seen before,” she said playfully.
The light was dim, but not so dark she couldn’t see him flush. He must have made it to the baths in the hours since she’d seen him, as his skin appeared scrubbed clean of the sweat and sand that had covered him after his match, and he smelled like herb-fragranced oil.
“You didn’t have to bring me food. I could have gotten it myself.”
Velia shrugged. “I don’t mind.” She spoke casually, as if all she’d done was carry out a quick, thoughtless errand. Not as if she’d been thinking about being alone with him all day.
Ferox lifted the tray and brought it over to the bed, balancing it on his knees as he sat. She realized he was making room for her to sit beside him, as he only had one stool at the table.
She sat, crossing one leg beneath her. Her bent knee brushed his thigh, and she felt him stiffen, but he didn’t move away.
He began to eat, and the sight of the food made her realize she hadn’t eaten all day, too consumed by the anxiety and excitement of the games. She reached out and broke off a piece of bread.
Wordlessly, he separated out half of the food and pushed it toward her.
“The emperor enjoyed watching you fight.” Velia peeled a hard-boiled egg, depositing the shell fragments into a corner of the tray. “Did you notice he was on his feet the whole time? He didn’t do that for anyone else.”
