“I did not become a physician to sit idly by and watch others suffer.”
“Anyone who knows you can see that.”
His eyebrows lifted. “Is that a compliment?”
She looked away but could not keep the hint of lightness from her tone. “I told you before that you were always meddling in everyone else’s affairs.”
He made a noise in his throat. A single note of laughter. And the air shifted between them. Felix turned back to the wall of supplies and gathered a needle and thread. When he returned, the seriousness in his features had too. He moved a lamp closer, angling the brass reflector to shine on the cut. He bent over it, examining the edges, and lowered his voice.
“Telemachus fears Alaric will sack Rome if we cannot return the Visigoth captives.”
Would Alaric truly go so far? She had to admit, sacking Rome was a nice thought, though Felix’s actions were a misguided effort to prevent such a thing. “And you think Alaric will care if I return home?”
“Your atta cares.” He rested a warm palm on her leg, gently pushing the edges of the cut together as he made the first stitch.
His use of her own language warmed her, but the facts remained. “I am no one, Felix. If you want to change Alaric’s mind, you will have to do something bigger than send me home. You will have to save us all.”
He stilled and looked up, focus flicking back and forth between her eyes as if he could read something in them she didn’t even know was there. Finally, he nodded. “All right.”
“All right?”
“You trusted me with your friend. Do you trust me still?”
It killed her to admit it. He dangled freedom in front of her, same as all the other men, but with one difference that changed everything. He’d never asked her for anything. Instead, he’d been the one giving, sacrificing for her. Caring for her despite her barbs and armor. Delivering her atta’s ring when he could have kept it for himself. If there was any reason to trust him, it was for these actions, and yet—Trust. Such an easy thingto give when she shouldn’t. And now? When he’d never once given her a reason not to, why did her voice stick in her throat?
She managed to nod.
He let out a breath, as if he’d been holding it, and the corners of his mouth turned up in a cautious smile. “Good. Remember that.”
She opened her mouth to ask why, and at that moment the door burst open. Four ludus guards rushed inside. Felix stepped away from her. Adel twisted around to see who they were carrying in, but their hands were empty. Two went for Felix.
“I’m in the middle of—” His protest was cut off as the guards wrenched his arms behind his back. “What are you doing?”
Hands clamped around Adel’s arms and yanked her off the operating table before she could voice a question of her own. Pain jolted through her thigh.
“Jovan will speak with you two.”
“He could have simply asked,” Felix grunted.
They hauled him outside first, Adel trotting to keep up with the guards on either side of her. The dangling needle tapped against her knee with each step. She should have known Jovan would be angry. Demand an answer for her inexplicable victory. But to take Felix too? Was he in trouble for warning her?
“Brutus, what is going on?”
“I don’t know, Amazon. I’m only doing my job.”
They marched around the courtyard and into Jovan’s office, where he stood with Blandus Albus. If Jovan looked pale, Albus looked as if he’d slit their throats and think nothing of it. The guards released them and left them standing side by side before the ludus owner and the lanista, as if they were children ready for a scolding. Or worse.
“What have you done?” Jovan asked, as if the wind had been knocked from his chest.
Anger surged through her. A rich question coming from the two men who had set her up to fail, or die, this very afternoon. She might have exploded had Felix not spoken first.
“What haveIdone? You’re the one who dragged me here like a criminal. You might have come and talked to me, or sent a messenger.” He adjusted his tunic, tucked it into his belt. Adel had never thought him one to care about his appearance.
“We’ve lost a great deal today.” Blandus Albus smacked a codex on the desk.
“A great deal,” Jovan echoed. “And after all I admonished, you still went against me. Spit upon everything I have worked for. Everything I have tried to do for you.”
“What do you mean?”
