Chapter 6
Something cold and wet touched my face.
I gasped awake, my lungs burning as my body jerked upright on instinct. My hand shot out, fingers locking around a small wrist before my mind caught up with the movement.
“Please—don’t touch me,” I said.
I froze, registering the girl kneeling beside the bed, staring up at me with wide olive-green eyes. I recognized her immediately, the neighbour’s daughter taken by the Praetor. Her long honey-blond hair was braided neatly down her back, a thin iron ring through her septum.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. I only wanted to help,” she whispered.
There was an easy sweetness to her expression—something most women in Caelora couldn’t afford to keep. She held a damp cloth in her free hand, water dripping from it onto the stone floor.
“No need to apologize. In fact, I’m sorry for grabbing you,” I said hoarsely. Releasing her wrist, I pushed myself upright as my head pounded, one hand gripping my temple. “I—where am I?”
“Careful, you’ve been sleeping a while.” She helped me sit up and touched the damp cloth to my head again.
The cold steadied me. “You are in the servant wing of the Ludaryn of Caelora,” she answered.
“You were brought here last night. I’ve been by your side the entire time. You were twisting and turning.”
My memory stirred, but it felt fragmented. Then everything came rushing back—the Praetor’s voice, his hand in my hair, and Elion on the ground in the wild.
My voice rose. “Where is Elion? My uncle—is he here? Is he alright?”
She hesitated before giving me a small smile. “Don’t rush. You might faint if you don’t breathe. I know you’re scared. I didn’t see anyone else with you. You were brought here on your own.”
I tried to do as she asked and took a deep breath to calm my hammering heart. “I came alone… But the Praetor—he brought me here. Did he say anything?”
“I—I…” She closed her eyes and her voice drifted to a whisper.
“I haven’t seen him. The moment I saw the legionnaires, I fled inside the servant wing.
” She turned away. “You might not know who I am. We’ve met before, but never had the chance to speak.
My name is Livia. I lived next door to you…
the Praetor… he… took me. I’m sorry. I ran when he entered the Ludaryn. I don’t know anything more.”
She rose quickly, tears on her cheek, and something in me softened. I couldn’t imagine what she’d endured.
“Livia.”
She stopped before turning back to me.
“Don’t leave, please. I remember you. I saw you on the street with your father no more than a week ago. I remember them taking you. I thought they’d be bringing you to the Aedile... I’m sorry we didn’t do anything.”
Her gaze dropped. “You couldn’t have done anything, it’s alright.
The memories, I just… I prefer not to speak of it.
” She inhaled deeply. “I was brought to the Aedile, yes. Afterward… Marcus intervened. He asked him to release me into his household, to work here. I’m a servant to the Bondwards and I help the medicus, Vibius, when needed. ”
“Marcus intervened on your behalf?”
“He did. He gave the Aedile no chance to argue. Marcus holds great power in Caelora—and he’s a man of honor.”
It seemed the Lanista wasn’t like the others. Maybe he’d allow me to leave.
“Have you heard what he plans to do with me?”
“No.” She cast a look toward the door before lowering her voice. “I don’t hear much, not unless one of the other servants overhears something and chooses to speak of it.”
My shoulders slumped despite my efforts to hold myself together. “That’s alright. I hope I’ll be allowed to leave and that Elion is well…”
I rose and crossed to the door, testing the handle before glancing over my shoulder. “Is there any way out of here?” I had to know. If Marcus refused, I would need another way out.
Fear flickered across her face and she shook her head.
“The Ludaryn is sealed. High walls surround the grounds. Houseguards are stationed everywhere. There are only two ways out. The inner courtyard holds the gate to the Ludaryn forest, but you wouldn’t know the way.
The second is the way you came—the entrance—and it’s manned by guards at every hour.
The walls are too high to climb. Besides, everyone will probably know by tomorrow that Elion’s niece has entered the Ludaryn.
People will recognize you and report you if they see you without an escort.
I haven’t been here long, but I noticed quickly.
There’s no escape. If you tried and you were caught, they would sell you, or worse.
” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You are safer as you are.”
I lowered my eyes to the handle in front of me.
“Safer…” I whispered. I thought of the firefly in the market square, its light smothered beneath my closing fingers.
Safe cages were still cages. Now all that remained was to see whether Marcus would loosen his grip...
or whether I’d have to break free myself.
Livia hastened toward me and grabbed my shoulders. “You’re a Bondward, trained by the best in the city. That matters here. You’d be protected under Marcus. Please don’t do anything reckless.”
I met her eyes, but before I could answer there was a firm knock at the door.
Startled, I turned as it opened without our permission.
Servants entered. They carried trays of food and water, their movements efficient as they set everything down.
One of them whispered something to Livia before they all retreated.
“Marcus wants to have you bathed and fed before he receives you.” She nodded toward the food. “Take your time. I’ll come back for you shortly.”
After forcing down bread with cheese and a handful of grapes, I followed Livia through corridors unlike any I’d seen before.
The Ludaryn seemed impossibly vast, its marble halls swallowing every footstep.
If I ever found a chance to escape, I would need to know the way, so I counted every doorway and every turn.
Though the effort felt futile. I couldn’t even tell which floor I was on.
The corridors had no windows, and I couldn’t remember how I’d been brought inside.
We stopped before a pair of ornate marble doors, their polished surfaces intricately carved with twisting vines surrounding streams of flowing water. Livia pushed them open, and a wave of hot steam washed over me.
The chamber beyond was simple. A small pool of pale aqua water lay at its center, its surface perfectly still beneath the drifting steam.
A single stone bench rested beneath the water at the far end.
Warmth rose from coals tended by servants near the back wall, who moved quietly about their work without sparing me a glance until Livia cleared her throat.
The doors swung shut behind us, sealing us inside. At least it felt private.
I reached for my clothes, but Livia caught my hands and the servants took over. I stilled, unused to it. As they stripped me bare, heat crept up my neck. This was nothing like the public baths in my quarter—there, no one looked twice. Here, every movement felt… attended to.
I tested the water with my toe. Warm enough. I slipped in and waded to a bench at the far side. The heat stung where my skin was scratched. My hands trembled as I scrubbed away the dirt from the Lornwild, as though I could scour away the Praetor’s touch with it.
Livia and the others joined me and I closed my eyes. No one spoke. The silence settled, almost gentle, and I let it. For a while, there was only the murmur of water and the slow rhythm of breath.
Then the peace shattered as the door opened without knocking. I felt him before I saw him. Livia stiffened beside me, the cloth slipping from her hand, the sound jarring in the silence.
Decimus stood in the doorway. He was dressed in dark finery, immaculate as ever.
He seemed entirely unconcerned by the steam—or that he had entered a room full of nude women.
For a heartbeat my mind went blank, then instinct took over.
I brought my arms up, crossing them tightly over my breasts as I shrank back against the edge of the pool.
Water sloshed as Livia did the same beside me.
“Lord Praetor,” Livia whispered, stiff with fear, before she lowered her eyes.
Decimus lifted a hand. “Clear the room.”
Everyone dropped what they were doing, bowing before him even though they were nude, and left the bathing chamber without dressing.
His gaze dropped without apology, settling on my breasts where they broke the surface, covered only by my hands.
The pause was brief, but it made anger rise within me all the same.
He smiled as he walked forward, stopping in front of me.
He crouched down, our eyes now at the same level.
His closeness did nothing to ease the lump forming in my throat.
“My apologies,” he said smoothly. “I should have announced myself. Power makes one careless.” A faint smile touched his mouth. “I did take you rather abruptly last night. For that, you have my regret.”
I said nothing, my arms still locked tight against myself.
His hand reached out, brushing damp strands of hair from my face with surprising gentleness.
“So precious…” he murmured. “Something so beautiful would have been wasted, if not for me. I have thought long about what to do with you. If I had not made myself clear before, then allow me to do so now.” His expression softened, which only deepened my disgust. “I promise that from now on, I will treat you gently. If you would accept my apology, I have a gift for you.”
His hand fell from my cheek, the strands slipping back against my skin as he opened his other palm before me. Resting there was a piece of silk. Upon it lay a small rose, dipped in gold—frozen in perfection.