22. A Traitor

A Traitor

Luella

When I finally rise from the chaise, Bacchus pisses on, unperturbed by his lack of audience. It infuriates me.

Everything about today infuriates me, but most of all how Ledo can’t just hide his brutality like every other worthless man. Is it better or worse that he puts it on display, where he could be judged? Where I can find him so easily?

I must make some sort of face because the movement causes the dried blood to split across my cheek, itching as if I’m allergic to it.

I should visit the baths in the city, so I can see Mia, but the idea of moving through the city with the blood of three separate women… no. I can’t stomach it.

Not that anyone would comment. They’d assume it was mine, and most would think I’d earned it.

The Domus Aurea Baths it is. Leaving the empty courtyard, I make my way down the halls, my eyes flitting down each hallway to ensure I’m on the correct path. I turn down the final hall and barrel headfirst, not into a bath, but into a man. Tall, copper hair, and golden skin.

Venus' tits, it’s the last man I want to see. “Dominus,” I say, dipping my head at the Emperor’s brother. “My apologies.”

“I thought I’d seen the last of you,” his words are accusatory, although his tone is light.

So insolent. So spoiled. “What gave you that impression, Dominus?” I’m still looking down, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I must have incorrectly judged your intelligence,” he says, and now I do look up.

“It happens to the best of us, Dominus,” I say, meeting his widening eyes.

“Skylar,” he exclaims, “you have blood on your face!”

“Yes. I am heading to the baths.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I mean, why do you have blood on your face?” He actually sounds concerned. Ledo hasn’t been secretive about my ‘training.’ It’s held in a common area of the Domus Aurea and more than once people have come through during the lesson. Yesterday a lower Senator stopped and asked if he could stay and watch. Ledo had simply asked him to join in, “so my future wife knows what to expect.”

I tilt my head. “My Praetor has been training me, Dominus,” I say, watching for a spark of understanding or knowledge, but I only see confusion.

“Training you for what?” He looks me up and down.

“For marriage, Dominus.”

“Stop calling me that,” he snaps. “What do you mean for marriage?”

I step forward, glaring even though I feel small next to him. Short and weak, like Skylar. He doesn’t know me, though, and I won’t allow a man who won’t be dead soon to scorn me. “What else should I call you, Dominus?”

“Answer the question, Skylar.” He’s so close I can feel the heat radiating off of him.

“You first.”

“You may call me Cassius.” His jaw clenches. “Now, what did Ledo do that resulted in this?” His touch feathers across my jaw and I forget to speak until he narrows his eyes further. “Skylar?”

“I am chaste. Praetor Ledo has much to show me, so that I may learn to be a good wife to him.” I keep it simple to hide my rage. I’ve already been too forward, and I refuse to let my temper undo my plans.

Realization dawns on him, slow and cold. I see the shift in his features, the set of his jaw. “Wait, you’ve been in the fountain room with him all clipse?” I nod. “Stones! He didn’t–?” He grabs my shoulder and turns me around. My jaw clenches as I realize that he’s not checking for just any injury. He’s checking for lashes.

“You shouldn’t touch me,” I chastise, stepping away from him. “The Praetor won’t like it.”

“I don’t give a stone what Ledo likes,” he spits.

I take another step back when he steps forward. “If you touch me again I’ll assume you either have no idea what he is, in which case you’re more of a matulo than I thought. Or you do know what he is and have no qualms with others bearing the consequences of your actions. Neither option looks good for you, Dominus, or ends well for me.”

It sinks in then, what I’m saying. “He wouldn’t…” he trails off when I narrow my eyes.

“He almost did, after our dance.” I don’t say what Ledo almost did, because it doesn’t matter what it was. It matters that I didn’t want it. It matters that Cassius understands the consequences of his behavior.

And I need to understand whether or not he cares.

“Skylar, why are you here? You obviously see what he is.” Traitorous words.

“If you see what he is, then why do you do nothing?" I won’t tell him my secrets, but I do want his answers.

“Perhaps the same reason you don’t,” Cassius says. My mind whirs. What could he know? Nothing. He might suspect, but he can’t know. I’m careful. I am new each time.

“What do you mean?” I ask. I don’t hold my breath but I want to. I want to freeze this moment for fear of his answer. Is it all about to come crashing down?

“Because I know Tisiphone will mete out judgment, if it’s due.”

I don’t allow my face to change, I keep my spine loose, fighting the widening of eyes and tilt of the lips at this silly rumor that has grown in my wake. “You place all of your faith in the furies?”

“I place my faith in the gods, of course,” he says. I can’t tell if he’s being satirical. His brother is considered blessed by the gods, after all. His blue and gold eyes search mine, and I wonder if he can see beneath the body Janus and I have crafted. Are there cracks in my armor?

“As do I,” I murmur, not daring anything further. I’ve already shown too much Luella, too little Skylar.

Too much me.

“I should go,” I say after a moment, turning to leave. But Cassius grabs my wrist, gently leading me into one of the many small alcoves off the main hallway. “Cassius!” I gasp.

“If Tisiphone doesn’t come, and you think she should have… I could help you,” Cassius says, not releasing my wrist. He’s whispering, but the words thunder through me. Treasonous words. Words that burrow into the soft tissue of my resolve.

“Help me what?” I dare.

“Get away from Ledo. Run.”

“Why would you do that?” I don’t resist anymore. If someone stumbles upon us in this alcove it won’t matter what position we’re in.

“I already told you,” he says. “I’d hate to see you made into something other than that of your own choosing.”

“What about the floras? The other wives?” I challenge. I should stop, but I have to know. Is he a good man?

His face darkens, something behind his eyes shuttering. “I have less power than I’d like… but that’s all changing, Skylar. Just… find me, if you’re in peril.”

My hand reaches out of its own accord, betraying me as it brushes his jaw. I shouldn’t be doing this.

“Aren’t we always?” I whisper. I don’t know if I mean me and him, or women, or the people of the republic. I just know that I can feel it, permeating the space between us, breathing down my neck.

Danger.