Chapter 17 Trajan #2
Her voice was soft and sad. She sat in the far corner of my balcony, looking out through the decorative pillars of the banister.
At first, I worried that she was in the state I’d found her in that first night I met her in the temple in Valerius’s home—distraught and hurting herself. There was no sign of her magic or a blade. No smell of her blood. But there was evidence of tears on her cheeks.
There was no oil lamp or torch on the balcony, but the moonlight illuminated the silvery trail of tears. My heart ached at the sight. I should probably go away and give her privacy, leave her alone, but I couldn’t help but walk closer. I couldn’t leave her in her sorrow if I tried.
Slowly, I lowered myself and sat with my back against the banister, facing her. She sat with her legs outstretched, ankles crossed, her hands cupped in her lap, her back against the wall, head tilted as she gazed up at the half-moon.
I didn’t say anything or ask her if she was all right.
It was obvious that she wasn’t. I simply wanted to be near her, in case there was something I could do or say to give her comfort.
I understood that she wouldn’t welcome any kind of physical affection, even though I longed to wrap her in my arms and assure her it would be all right.
That she was going to survive this hell she’d been imprisoned in, that she would live a better life soon outside of these walls.
But I simply sat in silence and absorbed the grief radiating from her. After some time, she sniffed and said, “I was thinking of my sisters.”
I waited, but she didn’t go on. So I nudged gently, “How many sisters do you have?”
“I had three. The night our village was attacked by Roman soldiers in half-skin, two were also captured and one ran away. I have no idea if they’re dead or alive.”
I didn’t question this attack. Under Igniculus’s rule, there were many soldiers who gave in to what we called dragon madness.
It was a sort of frenzy of the beast when they were in half-skin.
Being in that halfway state between man and beast was dangerous.
It was a confusing frame of mind, both vying for rule, and oftentimes, dragons in half-skin would revel in their beastly nature—desiring flesh and blood, sex and battle.
So they’d find the nearest village and take their aggression out on innocent people.
“Did you know”—Lela swiped at the tears with a hand as if annoyed she’d cried—“the night I was attacked was my wedding night?”
My entire being froze at her words, at the horror she endured on a night meant for complete joy and celebration. A new beginning. Nausea curdled in my belly.
“Your groom?” I asked, though I already knew.
“Killed right in front of me. By Quintus.” She hissed his name in disgust. “Before he dragged me from my village back to Rome and sold me to Valerius in exchange for his seat in the senate.”
“I’d always wondered how he’d gotten into the senate.”
“You were a soldier then.” She finally turned her emotion-filled gaze to me. “Why would you wonder about Quintus?”
“My grandfather, Gaius Tiberius, is one of the elder senators. I’ve always been in tune with what’s happening here in the capital city, even while at war. Our family is descended from those who formed the republic of Rome. I suppose that was why the people thought to rally behind me as tribune.”
“Republic?” Disdain dripped from her voice. “This is not a republic. Your emperor rules as a dictator. You can stop fooling yourself.”
“You’re right,” I agreed easily. “It was once a republic. The senate is all the people have now. But we could make it a republic again. That is why we plan to kill Caesar.”
She stared at me intently. “You’ll likely die in your efforts to do so.”
“I know.”
She paused, staring at me, seeming to consider my easy acceptance of death. It wasn’t easy. I didn’t want to die, nor could I live with myself in this Rome ruled by Igniculus.
“Why do you want to kill him?” she asked.
“You’ve asked me this before.”
“Tell me again.”
“He is immoral and corrupt. He is a tyrant who thinks only of his own gain and ruling with brutality. He isn’t fit to rule Rome. He isn’t fit to rule anyone.”
Her gaze remained fixed, the sorrow fading to an expression of determination.
“That’s not the reason you joined your friend Julian. It’s always personal that sparks this kind of fire. What did he do to you?”
I couldn’t help but smile, even if there was bitterness there. “You’re an intelligent woman, Lela.”
“I am,” she agreed easily. “People tend to forget because of my beauty.”
There was no arrogance in the statement. A bit of bitterness there as well. I suppose because her beauty had brought her more misery than joy.
“Tell me, Trajan. Why would you risk your life and your grandfather’s to kill Caesar?”
I never spoke of this to anyone but Julian. Grandfather and I hadn’t even spoken of it. My sisters Marilla and Junia had cried with me at their funerals before they moved to Ravenna and never returned. For the first time, I actually wanted to speak of it. I wanted Lela to know more of me.
“My father was a respected senator. Like my grandfather and many men in our family, he served the people in the senate house.”
I paused, thinking of the great man my father once had been, his smiling face when we gathered for family meals. Lela watched me and listened quietly.
“My father was also an incessant gambler. Grandfather had warned him to control it, but he couldn’t. He began to wander away from gambling tables with patricians and played with merchants. He ran up high debts. So much so, that he couldn’t pay them.”
My chest hurt thinking about those last days, the last time I saw him before I went away to the campaign in Carthage.
“My father took coin from Caesar’s treasury.
It was backpay he was owed for supporting one of Igniculus’s new fucking laws, but Caesar hadn’t paid him yet.
My father took it on his own to pay his gambling debts.
The emperor found out and tried him publicly then had him flogged naked in the middle of the forum right in front of the senate house.
In front of every respected man of Rome. ”
Acid burned in my belly. She said not a word, absorbing my family shame quietly.
“The humiliation was too great for my father. Immediately following his punishment, my mother carried him home in their litter and he killed himself.”
Lela gasped, but I went on and told it all.
“I was on a campaign when I heard, but I was given leave to return to Rome, to my family. But by the time I arrived, my mother had taken her life as well. Stabbed herself in the heart with the same dagger my father had.” I scoffed.
“Caesar declared it an honorable death when I saw him at my mother’s funeral. ”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered gently.
“My father had his own sins, but it was Caesar’s cruelty that pushed him into death. My mother loved him dearly. They were gods-chosen mates, and she couldn’t live without him.”
“Mates?” asked Lela.
I was surprised she hadn’t heard this living in Rome so long. But I suppose no one in Valerius’s home spoke of the beauty of dragon lore.
“It is believed that dragons choose their own mates. Divined by the gods.”
As mine had chosen her, though I’d never tell her.
“I have sisters as well. Two of them. Junia and Marilla.”
Her eyes brightened, but she didn’t appear surprised by this news. “Where do they live?”
“I moved them to Ravenna after my mother’s funeral. They couldn’t stand the pity of the nobility here, and I could see the way Rome was changing for the worse under Igniculus. I didn’t want them here. They lived a quiet life in Ravenna for a while.”
“They don’t live there now?”
I shook my head. “I had them moved to a secret house of ours in a small province in Pannonia after Julian left. In the past few months, Caesar’s perversions have become more …
pronounced. He enjoys abusing women to control the men in their lives, and I will die first before I allow him to hurt my sisters. ”
Lela smiled, not the reaction I expected.
“You’re a good brother, Trajan.”
“Any brother would send their sisters away from this place for protection.”
“But not just any brother would send his sisters letters of comfort, or shawls and cloaks to keep them warm in cold winters.”
I blinked and stared. “You found my letters?” Obviously, she did, but I was so surprised I didn’t know what else to say.
“I did.” She let her gaze drop to her lap a moment before meeting mine again.
“How?” I wondered aloud.
“I actually had a similar hidden compartment in my vanity like yours.”
“What similar devious minds we have.”
She smiled then sobered quickly. “I apologize for invading your privacy. I shouldn’t have done it. But I don’t regret it.”
“No?” I arched a brow.
“It showed me who you truly are. What kind of man you are.”
“What kind is that?”
“A good one,” she said softly.
My heart squeezed, her small praise suffusing me with pleasure. And yet, I ached at the fact she didn’t have a brother to hide and protect her. Not that any human could hide from Romans intending to do harm. Their beasts were too strong, too powerful.
“Tell me something about your life before Rome. Where are you from?”
“Dacia. Near the Carpathian Mountains.” She smiled. “The forest around our village was so beautiful. The trees were like giants. I loved to take walks and simply listen to the wind in the trees, the birds singing high above. So comforting.”
Her voice had softened, full of nostalgia and joy. I wanted to hear more—about her, about a time she was happy.
“What was your family like?” I asked.
She laughed. “Wild and loud. And wonderful. My sisters and I bickered a lot, but it was always playful. Well, most of the time.”
I laughed with her. “They sound delightful.”
“They were.” Her laughter died, but she went on. “My papa was a gregarious man. He loved to tell jests and tease Mama to make her laugh. Mama was the serious one of the family.”
“What was your favorite thing to do back then? Besides walk in the trees.”
She met my gaze curiously, a coy smile lingering on her lips. “To cook and bake. Mostly to bake.”
“Truly?” I asked, surprised.
“I was very good,” she snapped defensively.
“I’m sure you were, but that seems like such a chore.”
She shrugged a shoulder. “Not to me. I loved finding new herbs to add to my breads. And to see my family enjoy them. Papa would whisper to me that I was a better cook than Mama but to not tell on him.”
I grinned at the picture of her lovely family in my mind. “And did you ever tell on your papa?” I teased.
“Never. I loved my papa. I would never betray him.”
A somber silence fell between us. While I cherished hearing more of her life, her happiness, before she was captured and dragged here to Rome, it was obvious that even thinking about it hurt her deeply.
“I’m sorry, Lela,” I said sincerely. “For the loss of your family, your sisters.” I gulped hard at the lump in my throat. “But mostly, I am so fucking sorry for all of the personal loss you’ve endured.”
I couldn’t even voice it aloud, her losses too great to speak of—her freedom, her will, her dignity, her own life. It was all too unbearable.
She held my gaze and blinked back the watery tears pooling in her eyes again.
“Jardani was a good man,” she said in a soft voice, full of heartbreak.
It hurt to hear her speak of another man she’d loved.
But it hurt more knowing the life she deserved was ripped from her so cruelly.
By my own people. Not that I’d ever attack an innocent village for drunken entertainment and selfish gain.
It was Caesar’s leadership that encouraged such criminal debauchery.
“You miss him,” I stated gently. Painfully.
“Of course I do.”
“You still love him,” I added, knowing it was true.
“Always.” She remained quiet, while I swallowed the realization that the fates had been cruel to me as well. The sisters of destiny had chosen for me a woman more beautiful than the stars and just as unreachable.
She peered up at the half-moon again before finally saying, “The girl I was will always love him. But I’m not her anymore. I am an entirely new person, forged in the fires of loss, grief, pain … of Rome.”
Exhaling a breath of resignation, I told her, “This new person who you are is stronger. A survivor. You’ll make it out of here, Lela, and you’ll form a new life all your own.
” The timbre of my voice had gone deep and husky.
Not with the beast inside me—he’d remained silent, distant—but with determination.
“I promise you that I will get you out of this city so you can choose your own path.”
Immediately, I stood and walked away, unable to bear the look of hope and relief on her face, knowing that path would lead her far away from me.