Chapter VII Trajan #2
“Most certainly,” I agreed. “I’m sure you’d thought of that moment many times before.”
“Every day and every night for over three years I thought of it.”
She sucked in a deep breath and turned her lovely face to the sky. There was no moon, but still, pale light shone through the clouds. It was just enough to illuminate her expression of relief and joy and pain mingling altogether.
“How did you manage it?” I asked.
She turned back to look at me, her grave expression almost accusing. “You know very well how I did it.”
“You used your magic?”
“I am a witch, yes.” She quirked a brow in such a superior way, it reminded me of every noble dragon female I’d ever met. “It is a gift I’d never known was truly a gift. Until tonight.”
“Then you are blessed by the goddess Minerva. The soothsayers say she is the one who gives such powers to human women.”
She looked down, blinking away a look of pain. “Where will I sleep?” she asked hastily. “Do you have a changing screen? I can make a bed on the floor.”
“No. You will sleep in my bed.” When she gasped and took a step away, I held up a placating hand. “I will sleep in my study next door. There’s a comfortable chaise where I often fall asleep.”
“What about your body slave? Won’t he find me in your bedchamber?”
“I do not have one. I don’t allow slaves in my bedchamber or my study.”
“Why not?”
It was a peculiar practice. None of them ever questioned me since it wasn’t their place, but I was sure they wondered.
But my household servants had been inherited from my parents—loyal devotees to Caesar—so I had never allowed them to know me or what I was doing.
Only Alba, who ran the household, was allowed to clean my bedchamber, and only when I gave her specific permission, when I was present and could keep my eye on her.
“I am a private man, and they know that. It will serve to keep you hidden as long as you don’t leave this bedchamber and stay quiet.”
Stepping away from the balcony wall, I gave a small bow. “You may use whatever you need if you’d like to bathe and change.” I didn’t need to say that while she’d washed her hands and face, her gown was sprayed in blood. “I’ll have Koska find something more suitable for you tomorrow.”
She blinked, her expression still serious. And wary. She would likely lie awake all night, waiting to be attacked in my bed. But I had more difficult concerns than to be worried about Lela’s sleepless night.
“Good night.” I left her quickly, winding my way to my study, knowing full well I had a restless night of my own ahead of me.
I’d hated Valerius from the moment I met him at a party at Grandfather’s many years ago, even before Julian and I had begun to whisper in the dark about the rotting of Rome. Before we’d begun to plot and plan.
And now the fates had decided to remove him for me, relieving me of the burden to cover up his murder. It was divine, no doubt, I thought as I took an oil lamp and moved it to the table next to the chaise.
Walking past my shelf of bound books and scrolls, I went to my desk and opened the bottom drawer.
Sliding the hidden compartment open in the back, I pulled out the list of our allies and our assassination list then spread them open on my desk.
I dipped my pen in the dragon-head-shaped inkwell and joyfully crossed through Valerius’s name under the kill list.
“Fucking finally,” I muttered to myself.
Then I looked at our allies. I’d organized the list by noble senators, military and officers, and humans.
As of now, the list was far too short. Under the list of humans, there were about twenty of Koska’s associates in the Aventine and another dozen for Euphemia.
I wasn’t given names by Euphemia as she liked to keep her secrets close to the chest. I didn’t blame her.
The problem was that our politicians, many older like Grandfather, weren’t true fighters.
When this came to a battle—and it would—we needed more warriors.
“Dragon warriors,” I mumbled.
While Agrippa’s son, Marcellus, might rally some of his men to our side, it wasn’t enough.
Caesar had all of the generals and their legions.
My mind kept drifting back to that Germanic leader who’d attacked us in Moesia.
But how could I possibly find him and approach him when I couldn’t even leave the city?
And now I had to find a way to get Lela out of it.
Caesar would want her head on his wall in the forum.
His behavior was becoming more erratic, more violent.
I had to get her out. I stared at the list once more, sighing at the fact it wasn’t nearly enough, then folded it and hid it back inside my drawer.
Before closing my secret compartment, I pulled out the banned book I often read for inspiration.
Taking an oil lamp and the book I’d read several times now, I settled on my chaise. I opened to the essay written by the Ignis emperor Claudius centuries earlier—“The Divine Intercession of Revolution.”
Claudius had been beset by revolts across many Roman provinces.
He was more philosopher than tyrant ruler.
He’d attributed the unlikely battle losses of the large Roman armies against small barbarian hordes to the fact that the gods must be aiding them.
My eyes fell to one passage I’d read many times before.
“If the divine see fit to intervene, then the noble must know to bow down to the gods’ wishes. For no matter how powerful a dragon believes he is, he cannot battle and beat the gods. Therefore, a wise man takes note of the divine among mortals. If you see the signs, follow them.”
“I see a sign,” I whispered, looking at the wall between my study and bedchamber.
It wasn’t mere coincidence that the very night I decided to kill Valerius, Lela had taken care of it before me. She played a role in all of this.
Then it hit me. Something I’d spoken to Grandfather about once, only to be dismissed. Valerius’s death opened the opportunity of gaining power to our side. The power of the people was as important as gaining an army of warriors.
Now was the time, I was certain. Whether Grandfather liked it or not. I refused to ignore the signs. Tomorrow, I’d make a larger play for us all.