Chapter 13
“Medicus!” the emperor snapped. “You need to ascertain if that bitch injured me. My nose—I think she broke it!”
Kallias leaped to the emperor’s side. These next few moments were vital; they’d determine whether the emperor’s rage would sputter out or blaze into a destructive inferno. “You’re not bleeding, sir.”
“I barely touched him,” Lea hissed from behind him.
Shut up, you idiot, he shouted internally, then went rigid at the unmistakable sound of a fist smashing into a face. He didn’t dare turn around. If he saw her hurt, he would lose the composure he needed to ease the emperor’s anger.
Why, by the gods, had Lea thought it a good idea to indulge in such a display with the emperor, of all people?
Kallias clung to every ounce of his self-possession.
“Sir, of course it’s impossible that a woman could have injured you.
Even a gladiator.” His voice shook slightly, and he strove to steady it, hoping he had chosen the right angle to alleviate the emperor’s anger.
“I know you were only allowing Penthesilea to show off her skills for your sister’s benefit. ”
Drusilla, still carrying her brother’s golden adornments, stepped forward. Her face was white, but she spoke calmly. “Yes, it was most educational.”
Gaius’s gaze slid from Kallias to Drusilla and then to the Praetorians. It was the guards he was worried about, Kallias realized—the Praetorians were Rome’s most elite soldiers, and Gaius didn’t want to look weak in front of them.
Kallias’s palms began to sweat. There was nothing the emperor couldn’t do to punish Lea, no one who would dare stop him. What if he took it into his head to hurt her? Or exile her? Or even kill her?
The emperor’s jaw tensed, and Kallias braced himself. His mind raced, attempting to summon different approaches he could leverage to allay Gaius’s anger. Usually, words jumped to his tongue easily, but fear seemed to have frozen his mind, rendering him stuck, helpless.
Then the emperor’s gaze returned to his sister, and he smiled. “Of course. It was all for Drusilla.” He held out a hand to her, and she replaced the bracelets and rings he’d removed before the fight.
The dark cloud Kallias had sensed hovering around the emperor seemed to evaporate, and Kallias let out a tight exhale of relief.
Gaius waved a hand toward the Praetorians.
Finally, Kallias allowed himself to turn and look at Lea as the guards pulled her from the courtyard, presumably toward the exit.
Her lip had been split by the guards’ brutality, and the sight of the blood smearing her skin made an impotent rage ignite within him.
Indignant anger blazed in her eyes, but she went quietly enough as they drew her away, perhaps realizing she’d been spared.
Kallias needed to make sure she made it out of here safely, so he scrambled for an excuse to leave. He addressed Drusilla. “Perhaps you would like a tea, my lady, to soothe any soreness that may arise from your exercise?”
Drusilla had been staring after the Praetorians with a look of concern, but turned her attention to Kallias when he spoke. “Yes,” she murmured. “That would be most welcome.”
Gaius nodded in dismissal, and Kallias bowed his head and left the courtyard.
As soon as he entered one of the back corridors used by the staff, the tight grip he’d been keeping on himself fractured. His hands shook, and his breath came in quick, light gasps. He wanted to lean against the wall, take a moment to steady himself, but he couldn’t waste any time.
He jogged to his office, quickly instructed Sextus to grind the ingredients for a tea of willow bark and chamomile, and then hastened back through the narrow passages until he reached the exit.
If Lea hadn’t gone far, he’d have just enough time to see her and return to the palace while Sextus brewed the tea.
His pace slowed as he passed through the outer door, not wanting to give the bored-looking guard any reason to note him leaving, and then headed for the street Lea would have taken back to her ludus.
He caught sight of her ahead before he’d made it a block; her upright, assured posture was impossible to mistake. He broke into a run. “Lea!” he called out.
She stopped, turned, saw him. “Kallias—” she began as he caught up with her.
Her words cut off with a little gasp as he reached for her, folding her into an embrace. He couldn’t stop himself. He had to have her in his arms, had to fill his senses with her, reassuring himself that she was real and safe and mostly unharmed.
Kallias would have broken the embrace sooner, not wanting to overwhelm her, but then she was clinging to him, her lean arms wrapping even tighter around him.
“Thank you,” she murmured against his chest. “If you hadn’t been there—I don’t want to think about where I’d be right now.
” It was the first hint of fear she’d shown; perhaps the gravity of what she’d faced had only just sunk in.
You’re welcome seemed like an inadequate thing to say, so he kept silent. His fingertips found her cheek, brushing over the small smear of blood by her lip. His stomach tightened. “They hurt you.”
She gave a low chuckle. “I should have kept my mouth shut.”
“You are very brave and very stupid,” he informed her. Both for mouthing off to the guards and for thinking it was a good idea to overpower the emperor in the first place.
She snorted. “Required traits in any gladiator. Luckily, I have someone much smarter to rescue me.” Then, she pressed closer and brushed her lips against his.
A shiver ran over him, but he tipped his face away from hers. “You don’t need to thank me like this, Lea.”
She twined her arms around his neck, her body a warm, delicious pressure against him. “I’m not thanking you,” she murmured. “I’m kissing you.” She captured his mouth in a firm, unyielding kiss, and this time, he didn’t resist.