Chapter 8
Kallias cursed himself for not warning Penthesilea about the powdered dreamfish. He hadn’t expected her to take any, but then he realized she must not have known what it was. She wouldn’t be prepared for the stupor and possible visions that would come over her.
When she rose and staggered from the room, a man—one of Gaius’s friends—followed her almost immediately.
Kallias shot to his feet. He made his way to the door, moving as casually as he could, though he suspected no one was paying attention.
As soon as he was out of the room, his pace increased.
Under no circumstances would he leave Penthesilea alone in her condition.
He was responsible for bringing her here, and he’d make sure she was safe.
Ahead, he caught sight of her veering through the corridor. She threw out a hand to catch herself against the stone wall. Gods, she could barely walk. He’d noticed she had eaten little at dinner, so the intoxicant must have had a greater effect on her.
Her pursuer was somewhat more upright, but hadn’t reached her yet. Kallias jogged a few steps until he reached the man. He tapped the young man’s shoulder, prompting him to whirl around.
“Excuse me, sir, I think you’ve lost your way.” Kallias spoke conversationally and spun the man around. “The dining room is that way.”
The man uttered a feeble protest, but Kallias pushed him gently toward the dining room, away from Penthesilea.
The man took a stumbling step in that direction, then cast a look back at Kallias that somehow managed to be both aggrieved and confused.
Kallias offered a cool smile. The man seemed to lose interest in his quarry, for he charted a meandering path back down the hallway.
Relieved, Kallias turned to catch up with Penthesilea. She had paused, leaning a forearm against the wall as if she couldn’t quite figure out how to go on.
“Penthesilea?” He reached out to touch her shoulder, hoping to steady her, but as soon as his fingers brushed her skin, she flinched away from him.
“Get off me!” She shoved him away, hands catching him in the chest with a force that would have surprised him in anyone but a gladiator.
He raised his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “It’s just me. Kallias. I wanted to make sure you’re all right.”
Her hazy gaze swept over his face. “Kallias,” she murmured, as if trying to jog her memory of who he was.
“Your physician,” he offered helpfully. Someone had done her hair in an elegant arrangement of braids, but a wisp had slipped loose, and it fluttered around her face, brushing her cheek. He wanted to tuck it behind her ear, but held back.
“Right,” she said, her voice slurred. “Silk thread,” she muttered to herself. “Disgusting poultices.” She lifted an unsteady hand to the glass-beaded necklace that draped her collarbones. “Beautiful gifts.” She blinked a few times. “Have I been poisoned?”
“No. The substance you consumed is called dreamfish. It’s an intoxicant. The effects will fade in a few hours.”
“Dream…fish?” She turned away, taking a tottering step away from him. “Need to leave,” she mumbled. “Need to go home.”
“You can’t.” He followed, an arm hovering in case she fell over. “It’s late, and you can barely walk.”
She faltered, and he caught her by the waist. “Careful,” he murmured.
Heat raced over him at their closeness. He wanted to separate himself, to put some distance between them, but she hadn’t found her feet yet.
Her body was softer than he’d expected, her curves conforming to him in all the right places.
This time, she didn’t jerk away from his touch. “I don’t like this,” she breathed. “I want it to stop. Can’t you make it stop?”
His heart squeezed at the helplessness in her voice. “Only time will do that, I’m afraid.”
She slumped in his hold, head lolling against his shoulder.
“Penthesilea.” He spoke firmly, hoping to bring back her awareness. “Penthesilea, can you hear me?”
Her eyes fluttered open, and her gaze settled on his face. “Lea,” she murmured.
“What?”
“My friends…call me Lea.” She sighed.
“Lea,” he repeated. The use of her shortened name felt oddly intimate—as if Penthesilea was that imposing figure in the arena, and Lea was the real woman. “I think it best if you lie down for a while. Sleep it off. You’ll feel better in a few hours.”
“Sleep,” she breathed. “Yes.”
The only place he could take her was his bedroom. He wasn’t sure if she’d be pleased to find herself there when her mind cleared, but at least he could keep an eye on her in the meantime.
He drew her down the corridor, away from the noise of the dining room. They turned a few corners, entering a wing of the palace reserved for staff. It held storerooms, the kitchens, laundry facilities, and the like.
Kallias pushed open the door that led to his office. Beyond it was a connecting room that served as his bedroom, which he pulled Lea into. He leaned Lea against one wall as he hastily lit a lamp. The movement seemed to have renewed her energy somewhat, and she stayed upright without his help.
Her gaze swept over the compact surroundings—a bed that was definitely only big enough for one person, a chest of drawers, a small table and chair.
He pointed to the bed. “You can lie down there.”
She gave him a crooked smirk. “Didn’t think you were that sort of man.”
“What sort?”
“Drugging a defenseless woman…luring her into your bed…”
He raised an eyebrow. “You’re the least defenseless woman I’ve ever met, and you drugged yourself.”
“I wouldn’t have if you’d told me what that stuff was.” A note of irritation entered her voice, though it was still slurred. “You abandoned me. You ignored me.”
He put a hand on her shoulder, meaning to guide her to the bed. She looped both arms around his neck, and her body sagged against his. Once again, he noticed how very soft she felt.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I only ignored you because I had to force myself to stop staring at you. Though I wish I’d warned you about the dreamfish.” But if he had, she wouldn’t be here. In his bedroom, his arms full of her unexpected softness.
“Staring at me?” She tilted her head, the gesture both confused and coquettish.
“You looked very beautiful tonight,” he confessed. He should probably stay away from this line of conversation, but maybe talking would help her feel more alert.
In truth, he’d been struck dumb when he saw her for the first time earlier that night.
He’d never envied silk so much for the way it brushed her cheeks and shoulders, or glass beads for how they nestled in the hollows of her collarbones.
A sudden urge had overtaken him to bankrupt himself and exchange the glass for emeralds.
She deserved real jewels, the finest money could buy.
As if she sensed his thoughts, her fingers went back to the beads at her neck. “Maybe Jason was right,” she mumbled. She glanced up at him through dark lashes. “These gifts mean you want to bed me, don’t they?”
“Certainly not!” he protested. But the denial felt flimsy.
He could try to tell himself he’d only sent her the gifts because he knew she probably had nothing suitable to wear, and he didn’t want her to be embarrassed.
But in truth, he had lingered over the purchases, envisioning her draped in the silken fabric, the glass beads glimmering against her skin.
He had debated between red and turquoise and blue and orange, finally settling on the turquoise green because he thought it would look the most striking on her.
He had run his hands over the fine silken fabric, imagining it layered over her shining dark hair, the edge brushing her cheek…
“Liar,” she breathed. “Velia said that if a man sent her those gifts, she’d be lifting her skirts at the first opportunity. And Velia knows what she’s talking about when it comes to men. She says you’re dev—devastatingly handsome. Did you know that?”
“I—er—I’m not sure I’ve heard those exact words before, but please thank her for the compliment.”
“I agree with her, you know. You’re the best looking man I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen a fair few.” She let out a ringing giggle.
Her praise made him flush even though he knew it was just the dreamfish. “Time for bed, Lea. You’ll feel better in the morning. You won’t remember any of this.”
“I won’t remember anything?” She cocked her head. “Even this?”
Then, she leaned into him and pressed her mouth to his.
His mind went blank, wiped clean by the warm brush of her lips. His arms slid around her, daring to skim along the lines of her body. Desire sparked, and for a moment he felt as dizzy and unmoored as if he’d consumed the dreamfish too.
Awareness returned. He had to put a stop to this. The dreamfish was truly addling her mind—lowering her inhibitions and filling her with a desire she’d never feel if she were sober. Kallias had observed its effects often enough.
But before he could gather himself, she knocked him onto the bed, flat on his back.
Dimly, as she climbed atop him, he reflected that her gladiator instincts must be so deeply ingrained she could topple him even in her inebriated state.
“Lea,” he protested, voice becoming strangled as her hips settled onto his. She felt much too good like this. He tried to grab her waist, to shift her off him, but she felt as immovable as a marble column. She put her hands on his chest and leaned forward, pinning him to the bed.
A thread of panic wound through him, but he tamped it down. He’d long ago learned to fear being pinned and helpless, but this was different. Lea was the vulnerable one here, not him.
“Lea.” He summoned his sternest tone. “You don’t want this.”
“I think I do.” Her voice was husky, sending another flare of heat through him. “And I think you do too.”
He exhaled, attempting to clear his mind of the quickly mounting desire.
A traitorous thought entered his mind, growing more tempting with every choppy breath.
He could simply…let it happen. It wasn’t like he would refuse her under any other circumstances.
Then she’d fall asleep, wake up in the morning hopefully remembering nothing, and they’d never speak of this again.
Lea leaned forward. The silky edge of her palla fell over her shoulder, brushing Kallias’s arm. In an impatient movement, she yanked the fabric off her head and tossed it aside. A pin clattered to the floor.
Kallias winced at her rough treatment of the delicate fabric—then drew in a sharp gasp as her lips nuzzled his throat. Shocks of pleasure cascaded through his body.
No—he couldn’t enjoy this. Lea didn’t truly want him. If she woke tomorrow and remembered anything, she’d be horrified. She’d probably hate him for taking advantage of her. It would fracture the trust that had been built between them, and he couldn’t bear that.
He had to find a way to end this, and it seemed a cleverer approach was required.
Kallias lifted a hand to her hair, bound in braids at the back of her head. “Let me take down your hair,” he murmured. “It must be uncomfortable.”
She closed her eyes in pleasure at his touch. “Oh, that would be nice.” Finally, she climbed off him.
He allowed himself a moment of selfish regret at the withdrawal of her warmth and lifted himself off the bed. He ducked into his office to fetch the tiny pair of shears he used for delicate tasks, then returned to his bedroom.
Lea sat demurely on the bed, eyes half-closed.
She stayed still as he sat next to her and sifted through her hair to find the bits of thread that held her hairstyle in place.
He snipped them, releasing one thick braid after another.
Then, he untied the ends of the braids and combed his fingers through the soft locks.
They felt like silk. He couldn’t help leaning close and inhaling as he did so.
Her hair must have been washed with lavender water, and the fragrance was intoxicating.
Stop it, he told himself sternly. You’re supposed to be putting her to bed. Not lusting after her hair.
As he’d hoped, the soothing motion of his hand in her hair seemed to sedate her, and soon her body lolled against his.
Gently, he eased her down to lie flat on the bed and covered her with a blanket.
She didn’t stir, her breathing slow and even.
He allowed himself a moment to gaze down at her, then carefully extricated one of the two pillows for his own use.
Kallias withdrew a spare blanket from his chest of drawers and spread it out on the floor.
With a sigh, he curled up with his head on the pillow.
He’d slept in much worse conditions in his youth, as beds were not usually provided for slaves, but in recent years he’d become accustomed to certain comforts.
For Lea, though, he could sacrifice those comforts for a night—and indeed, he feared he’d sacrifice a great deal more for her.