CHAPTER 4

Vita

THIS WAS ONLY THE second time Vita had ridden in a cart, and she hated it just as much as the first. She sat across from Praetor Amulius, who hadn't taken his eyes off her as the bumpy streets jostled them, his wife wedged tightly beside her.

Vita guessed she should be grateful.

Domina Amulius had kindly loaned her one of her old dresses, though she was certain it was the Praetor who had forced her to do so. Regardless, it was gorgeous, lovelier than anything Vita had ever worn, if scantier than she would have preferred.

The dress was silky, a deep shade of crimson that gathered to a point at her neck. A gold necklace held the top up, a matching belt cinching her waist. The dress had no sleeves or back, though she carried a shawl around her shoulders, trying to cover herself as much as possible.

Vita's wavy black hair hung down her back, coiled as neatly as she could manage. Rouge dotted her cheeks and shadow dusted her eyelids, though there was nothing to be done about the ugly red scar. She avoided Amulius' gaze as much as possible, the task difficult with the way he leered at her.

Walking would have been preferable, though that simply would not do for the Praetor and his wife. And his servant girl.

Vita's excitement over the past week had turned sour, anxiety vibrating through her mind and body. She just hoped she could continue avoiding the Praetor's fondling, like she had successfully done since the incident outside her door.

The Domina was stunning, her satin dress the perfect shade of eggplant. An almost-sheer bodice accentuated her waist, long sleeves draping over her thin arms. Blonde ringlets were piled on top of her head, bouncing with every jolt of the carriage.

The trip was short, though Vita was thoroughly dizzy once they arrived. A footman helped her down the steep steps of the cart and the warm evening enveloped her in its humid embrace.

Darkness had fully set in to the mountains beyond. The palace was lit up with countless torches and braziers, the white stone facade glowing with ethereal beauty.

"Are you going to be a good girl tonight?"

The voice reminded her of a hissing snake, as the Praetor creeped up beside her, the hair on her neck standing on end. She glanced at him, resisting an eye roll, and thought it best not to answer the question.

From any other man, the words might have titillated her, but not him.

He graciously took his wife's arm and escorted her across the bridge, flanked by glowing torches. Vita grasped the Domina's train, holding the silky fabric aloft as she followed them into the palace .

Domina Amulius had given all the servants the day off for the holiday, and Vita had gone into Shadowholde that morning with Rhea to observe the Aonalia festivities.

They had delivered small, sweet cakes to the temple, a traditional offering to the virgin Goddess. Vita had painstakingly collected water from the sacred spring—a necessity for the cakes—while Rhea had spent the morning baking them. The temple had buzzed with energy as women gave their offerings and sang praise to Aona.

Garlands of fresh flowers had decorated the city forum, as dancers regaled the sun with their sinuous movements. A large, central bonfire burned bright, sweat beading on many a brow with the dual sources of heat. Vita and Rhea had feasted on bread and wine, wandering the crowd arm in arm, laughing at the merriment.

The High Consul was nowhere to be seen, though that wasn't a surprise, as he was always conspicuously absent from holiday festivities.

Vita had needed a nap before the feast at the palace, the sun—and wine—sapping every bit of energy from her, though she had enjoyed the day.

Now, she stood outside the entrance, waiting behind Praetor and Domina Amulius as the herald greeted them.

"Praetor, it is a pleasure to have you join us at the palace with your lovely wife."

The short man paused, peering around to look at Vita. He had a gray beard and dark eyes that scrutinized her, but said no more. He led them down the hall to the entrance of a ballroom.

Sounds of revelry floated into Vita's ears, raucous laughter mixed with stringed melodies. Her heart raced as she stepped into the grand ballroom, the herald announcing their arrival in a furious shout.

"Praetor and Domina Marcus Amulius!"

Curious eyes shot towards them as she followed her employer into the enormous room, continuing to clutch the Domina's train, her mouth gaping in awe.

Cascading vines and delicate flowers in vibrant shades of pink and red adorned the stone walls, the sweet scent of the blooming roses filling the air. The chandeliers above cast a warm light, an enchanting ambiance to accompany the lively music and the guests twirling in their summery attire.

Vita followed Praetor and Domina Amulius as they made their way through the crowd, greeting guests with fake smiles and bows. She froze, letting the silky train slip from her fingers as she locked eyes with someone from across the room.

The strange woman from the market.

She sat in an elaborate silver chair adorned with shimmering jewels. Her golden eyes pierced into Vita once more, that sly smile on her lips. What was even more shocking was who she was sitting next to.

The High Consul.

The air left Vita's lungs as his gaze turned to her, eyes as red as the roses clinging to the stone walls. His pale skin glistened under the warm chandelier glow, blonde hair so light it was almost white. It laid neatly down his back, chunky pieces framing his beautiful face.

And it was beautiful.

Vita let out a breath as the High Consul's lips curled into a smirk. A smirk directed right at her. She tore herself away from his stare, hurrying to catch up with the Amulius' as they mingled with fellow guests.

Why was the strange woman sitting right next to the High Consul? Vita cast another glance their way and noticed her whispering in his ear as he lounged on his ornate throne.

She wore another gorgeous navy dress, this one of fine silk, long-sleeved with a deep cutout reaching far down her stomach. A harness of glittering white jewels flowed over her shoulders and across her chest and another golden rose was tucked into her braided hair.

The High Consul was dressed in equal extravagance. A white tunic with finely embroidered roses emblazoned his lithe chest, black pants and leather boots adorning his bottom half. Mirrored earrings dangled from his elven ears as a small silver circlet sat atop his head.

His firm jaw clenched in a smirk, even as the woman spoke in his ear. As she finished her secret words, his ruby gaze turned back to Vita and she felt a strange pull in her chest, as if his unblinking eyes were drawing her towards him.

A hand at the small of her back interrupted her thoughts. She blinked the High Consul away as she turned to face the person who belonged to the hand, Praetor Amulius, with a sickly smile on his face.

"Are you coming, Vita?"

He led her over to the Domina, who sat in a comfortable armchair surrounded by the wives of council members, each one vying for her attention. She gestured to Vita, and the Praetor finally took his hand off of her, moving to speak with another finely dressed man.

Vita hurried around for much of the evening, delivering glasses of wine and plates of food to the Praetor and his wife. When she had a moment to breathe, she made a small plate for herself, bread and cheese she could eat quickly before she was given another task.

A man eyed her from across the feasting table, a grin on his face. He had wavy auburn hair and the same strange red eyes as the High Consul, which sent a shiver down her spine, though his smile wasn't unkind. Still, there was something off about the man and Vita quickly returned to her place near the Praetor, awaiting her next command.

She tried to focus on the twirling dancers, but her eyes were drawn to the High Consul and the mysterious woman. Every time one of them looked towards her, it took everything in her power to drag her eyes away.

Vita was clapping along to a song when a person appeared in front of them. The strange woman. She bowed low to Amulius, a haughty smirk on her beautiful lips.

"Praetor, what a pleasure it is to make your acquaintance." Her voice was deep and lilting, no less harmonious than the melody of lyres and flutes playing in the background. "I am Aurora Delphi, and I work for High Consul Renatus."

Renatus . It was the first time Vita had ever heard anyone call him by name.

Amulius shot up off the chair he was sitting on, taking Aurora's hand and shaking it vigorously. She did not seem pleased .

"The pleasure is all mine, Domina Delphi. I am very eager to speak with the High Consul. It has been quite some time since we've been able to discuss matters in person, though I know he is a busy man."

Aurora's smirk turned to a grimace as Praetor Amulius clasped her hand, her eyes settling on Vita.

"Actually, he wishes for a dance with your lovely guest here."

Ice flooded Vita's veins, the Praetor's eyes joining Aurora's as they glared at her. A dance? The High Consul wanted to dance with her ?

He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure.

"Oh, this is just Vita. She is our servant, here to assist my wife." His voice was a simpering mewl.

Aurora turned her attention back to him, and the sly smirk returned.

"It is no matter. The High Consul wishes for a dance. Should I tell him you are denying his request?" Aurora cocked her head to the side, golden eyes unblinking.

"No, of course not!" Amulius grabbed Vita's arm and pulled her towards Aurora. "Vita would be happy to dance with him. Wouldn't you?" He turned to her with his last words, hissed through gritted teeth.

Vita shivered but put on her sweetest smile and nodded. "It would be an honor."

Without another word, Aurora linked their arms, escorting her to the High Consul's throne. Her heart raced, dizziness almost overcoming her as she allowed herself to be dragged away from her employer.

Why did the High Consul want to dance with her ?

A surge of power trickled through Vita and she willed it away with all her might. Now was definitely not the time.

Aurora stopped a couple of feet away from the throne, pushing her the rest of the way. The High Consul was looking at the ground, deep in thought, though his eyes drew up her body as she stood before him, drifting across her legs, waist, chest, and neck until they finally rested on her face .

A slow smile appeared on his lips as he stood with a slender arm outstretched to her. Vita gave him her hand, and he brought it to those sumptuous lips for a kiss. A shock of pleasure raced through her at the gentle touch.

"Hello, darling," the High Consul purred, not releasing her hand.

Vita curtsied. She remembered her manners and tried to smile.

"High Consul. It is an honor to meet you."

The words were true enough, though her voice trembled.

His hands were ice cold, a darkness flashing across his eyes that simultaneously frightened and intrigued her. He inspected her face, brows furrowed as he scrutinized every detail. She wanted to look away, but felt compelled to meet his gaze.

"What a lovely girl you are," he said, as Aurora took her place beside his throne. "My dear friend noticed you while on business in Shadowholde last week."

The room narrowed around Vita, the music and revelry deafened as she stared into his glimmering eyes. Her heart beat fast, as if it were about to escape her chest at any moment.

"I-I noticed her as well," she replied, desperate, but unable to tear her eyes away from his.

A deep laugh from Aurora, and the High Consul chuckled.

"My dear Aurora is lovely, is she not?" he asked as he glanced at the other woman.

The air returned to Vita's lungs as he looked away, and she sucked in a deep breath. When his eyes returned to hers, the gaze didn't seem to penetrate as it had just a moment ago.

Vita gulped and nodded. "Quite lovely."

A blush formed on her rosy cheeks, hastened as the High Consul took the shawl from her shoulders and draped it over his throne. He pulled her onto the marble floor, weaving expertly through the crowd of twirling dancers. Partygoers made space as he led them to the middle of the room.

The High Consul pulled Vita into his embrace, one hand still clasped with hers as his other arm wrapped around her back. He lowered his eyes as the smirk returned.

"Are you ready to dance?"