Chapter 17. Before Maris
BEFORE: MARIS
I lit a row of incense with a steady hand, letting the smoke gather in the eaves of the vestibule.
Compared to a feast day, the altar was bare, but the gifts and offerings from the most devout Isarians still cluttered its vast surface.
In the early hours of the morning alone, small treasures had been left—glass vials of oil, painted pottery, and spools of dyed wool.
A basket of lemons and a bundle of dried lavender.
Ophelius would bless the offerings after the sun went down and then the items would be collected and burned in the altar fire. As a novice, gathering the ashes to be cast into the wind from the top of the temple’s spires fell to me.
The dark dust still marked my hands as I waved the incense smoke into the air.
Once the glow of the embers was visible, I hauled the vessel of ash up onto my hip.
The sound of my bare feet on the stone was a soft echo as I made my way back to the corridor, but I slowed my pace when I saw the shadow of a figure painted on the floor ahead.
I came around the corner to see the brilliant red of a legionnaire’s cloak and immediately stopped short. The man leaned one shoulder against the stone wall, his hand resting on the hilt of the sword at his belt. He was half hidden in the darkness, but I recognized the sharp cut of his face.
Magistrate Matius’ son.
He straightened when he saw me, hand slipping from his belt.
“What are you doing here?” I whispered, arms tightening around the vessel of ash as I tucked myself around the corner, out of sight.
I hadn’t seen Matius since the day I delivered a message to the Philosopher for Ophelius. The celebrations of the Second Feast weren’t as grand as the first. The factions mostly kept to themselves until the Fourth Feast, when the whole of the Forum would gather again.
“You don’t come to observe the tribunals,” Matius said. “I’ve attended every one in the last month and I haven’t seen you there once.”
Three young women with colorful pallae pulled up over their heads appeared in the entrance to the Illyrium’s library, and Matius fell quiet. Their kohl-rimmed eyes settled on his face before dragging down the length of him. But when I looked back to Matius, his gaze was still set on me.
I was all too aware that this wasn’t just a low-ranking legionnaire.
Matius’ name had been everywhere since the First Feast. He was the heir to a faction leader’s seat in the Forum and had a face that made a traitorous flush burn in my cheeks.
But he seemed wholly uninterested in the attentions of the district.
For the last few weeks, he’d been trying to see me.
Not only that, but he was also admitting it.
“If I can’t go to your villa and you won’t come to the Forum, then I have no choice but to come find you here.”
I glanced over my shoulder, watching the women turn the corner of the corridor. “We really shouldn’t be seen together…”
“What happened to that girl at the party who climbed down the garden wall?” He grinned. “The Casperia I met at the First Feast didn’t seem to care much what other people thought.”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.” My gaze fell to the short sword still fastened at his hip. It was sign of blatant disrespect. “And you can’t have that in here.”
He eyed the vessel of ashes disapprovingly.
“You don’t fear the gods,” I guessed.
“I don’t.” His attention was on the talisman around my neck now, making it burn like a coal pulled from the fire. “My mother died before the altar in this very temple. I think she said enough prayers for the both of us.”
“If you’re here to insult the gods…” I said, tone taking on an edge.
“I told you. I’m here to see you.”
He took the vessel from my hands, setting it on the ledge, and then he opened his hand in the air between us. I stared at it for a long moment before I looked up to meet his eyes.
“What are you doing?”
“There’s somewhere I want to take you,” he said.
Again, my gaze fell to his extended hand.
I bit down on my bottom lip, trying to quell the upside-down feeling in my stomach.
I knew I shouldn’t be glad he’d come. I knew the fire stoking to life inside me could very well swallow us whole.
I could feel in my bones that there was a chain reaction of fate beginning to take shape.
But it wasn’t enough to keep me from folding my fingers into his or following him out of the cool shade of the temple into the sunlight.
No one looked twice at the legionnaire walking through the city gates or the Magistrate’s daughter trailing a few steps behind him.
No one so much as blinked when we disappeared into the crowd of people on the road.
The farther we got from the city walls, the more alone we were, and it wasn’t until the water came into view that I understood what we were doing.
Matius started down the slope of pale, hot sand, not bothering to see if I would follow.
The cove was empty, with only two boats visible far out on the horizon and cliffs that jutted up so far that the beach was hidden from the road.
I stood on the crest of the dune, watching him get smaller below, and my feet suddenly felt like they’d grown roots down into the ground.
It was rare that I was ever outside the city walls, and when I was, it was never without eyes watching me or whispers tangling in the wind.
Matius finally turned back when he reached the bottom, a wry grin on his face that made him impossibly more handsome.
There was a dimple at one corner of his mouth that I hadn’t noticed before.
Maybe because I hadn’t really seen him smile.
But it was just as likely that I hadn’t let myself look at him. Not too closely.
He waited, patiently meeting my eyes with what felt like a dare. The moment I moved, he looked like he knew he’d won. I started down the slope and his smile widened. He pulled at the fastenings of his legionnaire’s uniform, dropping his cloak on the sand.
I glared at him. “I told you, I can’t swim.”
His belt was next, and then he was pulling his tunic over his head. “That’s why we’re here.”
The skin that stretched over his shoulders and down his back was pulled tight over the line and groove of muscle that made up the shape of him. The width of his shoulders narrowed down to his waist, where the sunlight cast shadows beneath every edge of muscle.
“Are you serious?” I said, chest growing a little tighter as I imagined myself beneath the surface of the water.
He slid his trousers over his hips, leaving only a pair of low, short breeches. “Very serious.” The wind caught his hair, pulling it across his forehead. That dare was in his eyes again.
I looked up at the cliffs, afraid that someone would be up there watching us.
“It’s just me and you, Casperia,” he said.
“And the gods,” I replied.
The thought made me suddenly nervous. There was no one listening. No one watching. I wasn’t used to that feeling.
He walked into the water as a wave climbed up the sand, and he followed it out, the surf churning around his legs.
I hesitated before I reached for the cords of my palla, unknotting them with trembling hands.
Matius turned around as I unwound the belt, and he didn’t look back as I let the stolla and chiton fall down my shoulders. The fabric landed in a heap at my feet.
The wind bit at my bare skin, protected by only the thin linen sheath I wore beneath the chiton.
When I stepped into the water, it was even colder.
Matius waded farther from shore, where he could still stand, his sun-darkened skin sparkling with seawater.
When he turned back around, he stared at me unapologetically, eyes slowly tracing my hair, my throat, my hips.
He waited patiently as I made my way toward him with careful steps, feet sinking into the fine sand below. When I nearly lost my footing against a wave, he caught hold of my hand and pulled me through the water.
He held on to me for several seconds to be sure my feet could reach the bottom, and when he let me go, I could feel his warmth racing away from me. His hand lifted out of the water to rake back his hair.
I was suddenly too aware of the fact that there were only inches between us. The sense of not being watched felt like a dangerous thing now. I could do anything, say anything, and the only one who would know about it was a man I had no reason to trust.
I turned in a circle, watching the glitter of light sparkle on the pale turquoise water. The crash of water on the rocks was the only sound, the smell of salt and fresh seaweed thick in the air.
“Is this the place you used to come?” I asked.
“It is.”
“With your mother?”
He didn’t answer at first. He didn’t look at me, either. “No, not with my mother.”
The medallion around his neck gleamed, flashing sunlight across his family name.
Magistrate Matius’ sister was a mysterious figure, and I’d never heard the full story of how she was cut from her family line.
I wasn’t sure anyone really knew what happened, other than the fact that she’d had a bastard child with a lowborn man.
I wondered now if she was who I saw when I looked in her son’s eyes.
I certainly couldn’t see any trace of his uncle.
“What is it?” he asked, brows coming together.
“If you could change one thing in Isara when you’re a Magistrate, what would it be?”
He regarded me with a wary expression, as if I’d spoken a riddle.
“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”
“I have,” he admitted.
“And?” I sank lower, letting the water come up to my chin.