Chapter Thirteen
I crossed the finish line and relief flooded through my veins. I had done it. I’d won. The first event was mine. The stadium erupted—the sound was deafening.
Turning, I expected to see Zain directly behind me, also crossing the line. But he was farther back, along with the rest of the runners.
He hadn’t actually been that close to me—it had just felt that way. Which seemed odd.
But he did come in second.
I wasn’t there to congratulate him because I had gone to retrieve my tunic. I put it on, cinching it at the waist. I had given this crowd my pound of flesh and now I was done.
Zain sought me out. “You did it! You won!”
It looked as if he intended to hug me but remembered at the last moment that he was not wearing clothes.
“Thank you,” I said.
I saw Levern, and while he had finished in the top ten of the racers, he hadn’t beat me. I held up one finger at him, reminding him of our bet and how I was well on my way to winning. Which I had done despite his best efforts to stop me.
He yelled and kicked an amphora over.
Another racer said to him, “Are you throwing a fit because you lost to a woman?”
“She’s not a woman,” Levern said. “She’s a Thracian. A whore.”
Zain pushed people out of his way to stand in front of Levern. “Apologize.”
“No.”
I was about to tell Zain it was fine, the Epirian wasn’t worth it, and I’d heard worse. But Zain had grabbed Levern’s arm behind him, turning his wrist hard. Levern tried to suppress his grunt of pain.
In a matter of moments, Zain got him onto the ground and dug his knee between Levern’s shoulder blades, still holding his arm back while twisting his wrist. “I said, apologize.”
The Epirian started cursing and tried to free himself but stopped when Zain increased the pressure.
“I’m sorry.” Levern spit the words out like they were a poison he wanted to expel.
Zain released him and returned to me, his expression grim.
My heart began to rise in my chest with each step he took. When he reached me, I couldn’t stop myself. “No one has ever done anything like that for me before.”
“Why not?” He sounded incredulous. “Unless you’ve gone through your life without being insulted.”
“No, I’ve been insulted countless times.”
“Then it is a shame that no one in your life has stood up for you.”
They knew I didn’t need them to stand up for me. That I could protect myself. But he had touched something deep inside me by being willing to step into the breach to defend me.
“Are you enjoying your applause?” he asked.
I had forgotten the stadium audience. But they were still standing and cheering. “I’m surprised by it. I thought they would boo me.”
“They wouldn’t boo you. They’re probably thanking their god that they were allowed the privilege of watching you run.”
I wasn’t sure if he meant because I’d done it naked or because I’d done it well.
He cleared it up for me. “It’s not often people get to see someone race so fast. Or someone so beautiful.”
He had meant both, then.
“You don’t know how many fortunes you caused to be lost today,” he said.
If people had wagered on the outcome of this race, then he was right. I couldn’t imagine that anyone in Sagaris would have bet on me to win.
Foolish mistake.
“Between that and you gracing the track with your perfect body—you probably drove most of the men in this stadium mad with lust. I was worried I might have to help you fight your way clear, and I hate fighting.”
“You hate fighting?” I repeated. I’d just watched him with Levern but realized he’d only subdued the Epirian. He hadn’t fought him.
“There are much more pleasurable ways to spend my time than fighting.”
His deep voice made me imagine all sorts of pleasures with him. I was so glad I was wearing clothes. Because I could feel the blush starting in my cheeks, traveling down my neck, and spreading across my chest.
I felt . . . silly, for lack of a better word. I was behaving like a green novice, off to fight her first battle or bed her first lover. He made me feel flustered, even if I was pretending to be confident and calm.
It was because he threw me off balance. I never really knew what he would say or do next.
That had never been how my short-lived affairs had worked. Usually they were just a matter of convenience and relief. I controlled the entire encounter from beginning to end.
But I suspected that this man would be the one in charge, and that thought sent the flush out further, making me feel like I was being burned from within.
I had to go. Right now. Or I was going to do something reckless in front of thousands of people. “I need to get cleaned up.”
“After you’re done, you should meet me in our room. I think we should go out to celebrate your victory. I know of an excellent tavern nearby.”
I nodded and he smiled, then started walking toward the lower levels of the stadium. It seemed a shame for him to cover up again. Like putting a tarp over a perfectly sculpted statue.
Although I probably shouldn’t have, I did drink in the image of his muscled shoulders, his toned back, his perfectly formed buttocks, his strong legs, as he went to get cleaned up and then dressed.
I let out a sigh of frustration when he was out of sight.
Then I found myself hurrying to gather the rest of my things and go to the washroom in the laundry.
Only a few women were still working, and they didn’t say anything as I walked past them.
I quickly bathed and washed my hair. I had brought an extra tunic with me for after the race and so I put that on.
When I got back to our room, I was surprised he wasn’t there. Dagger was, eagerly waiting to be pet. I scratched between his ears in that spot he loved so much.
Every time I heard someone out in the hallway, my heart fluttered. And when Zain finally opened the door, I had to avert my gaze so that he wouldn’t see my reaction in my eyes.
I was happy to see him.
“I got ready faster than you did,” I said.
He threw his dirty tunic onto his bed. “I had to scrape all that oil off first before I could bathe.”
I felt a little faint at the idea of helping him scrape oil off his body. And I was certain that he noticed because he was studying me intently.
“Your hair curls when it’s wet,” he said.
“Just a little.”
He lifted his hand as if he intended to reach out and touch me, but he didn’t. “Shall we go?”
I nodded and stood up and realized how close he was to me. We stayed in that moment, breathing each other in, our bodies almost touching but not.
Zain smelled clean.
And he smelled like anticipation and secrets and risk.
I was glad when he took a step back because I wasn’t sure I would have been able to.
Thankfully, he decided to finish the story about the stolen ruby. We left the barracks and went out into the city. As night began to fall, it turned the air cooler. I wondered how that was possible when we were surrounded by desert.
He had been right—the tavern was close. It took us only a few minutes to reach it.
I had been expecting it to be similar to what we had in Thrace. Something smoky and dingy, small, with people drunk and yelling and wrestling.
But when we went inside, this tavern was every bit as nice as the celebration had been last night. Tastefully decorated, pristine, soft music playing.
“Something smells so good,” I said.
“The Sagari are obsessed with food. Every year they hold a competition for chefs to create the best dish. Whoever wins is given a crown of golden laurel leaves and the right to be the only person who can create that dish until the next competition. It brings them quite a bit of money because everyone here wants to try the exclusive, award-winning dish.”
We found an empty table and seated ourselves. A server came by to tell us about their different specials, and they all sounded delicious.
“I think we want to try the chef’s exclusive dish,” Zain said, raising his eyebrows at me to get my opinion, and I nodded.
When she left he leaned across the table toward me. “I have a confession.”
I couldn’t begin to imagine what he had to confess. With him it could be just about anything.
“And an apology. Now, in my defense, it would have offended my god if I hadn’t done it because he is a fervent lover of all beautiful things. But earlier . . . I looked.”
“I know,” I said.
After a brief pause he said, “And I’m still alive to tell the tale?”
My mouth twitched. “The rules say I’m not allowed to kill a fellow competitor.”
He grinned at me, which caused my own smile to break free.
I knew that I should confess and apologize as well. “I looked, too. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I told you last night that you could.” He shifted in his chair. “Did you like what you saw?”
“Very much.” I had said that far too enthusiastically.
His eyes smoldered in the low light and I feared that whatever he proposed in the next twenty seconds I was going to immediately agree to.
The server returned with wine, thankfully interrupting the moment. I grabbed my glass and sipped, grateful for an excuse to be doing something else with my mouth besides admitting to things that I shouldn’t.
The wine was excruciatingly sweet and delicious, so I had to set it back down. I had never held my alcohol well and this would be the worst situation in which to lose my inhibitions.
He let out a soft sigh after he took a drink. “I do enjoy tasting sweet things.”
My pulse throbbed so hard in my wrist I was afraid it would burst free. “No one has ever described me as sweet.”
“Who said I was talking about you?” he teased, but I had understood his meaning.
“Then who were you talking about? What kind of woman do you normally . . .” Taste seemed like the wrong word to use. “Spend time with?”
“Hetaerae.”
That seemed about right. I couldn’t even pretend to be surprised.
“It’s easy,” he continued. “They’re mostly interested in what pretty trinkets I’ll bring them.”
“Yes, well, they have to secure their future somehow for when men deem them no longer young enough or pretty enough to spend the night with.”
“That is a fair point,” he conceded.
“And hetaerae aren’t the only ones who like pretty trinkets. Maybe that’s the whole reason I’m competing.”
“The main prize isn’t a trinket. It’s something that can change your life.”
Good. That was exactly what I wanted it to do.
The server came with our food. She placed the plates down in front of us. “Roasted lavraki seasoned with fresh thyme and olive oil.”
It sounded rather simplistic—I had been expecting something more exciting. And I was concerned about the freshness of the fish, considering that we were so far from the ocean.
My knife sank through the fish easily, and when I put a bite into my mouth . . .
Sheer bliss.
The flavor was delicate and buttery with a hint of sweetness. I closed my eyes to savor the taste for a moment longer.
“Good?” Zain asked.
Opening my eyes, I said, “This is the best thing I have ever had in my mouth.”
“That’s a shame.”
I knew what he was alluding to but I didn’t have time to bother with banter. I was going to eat every single bit of this fish and then I was probably going to have the server bring me more.
“After the way you talked about it, I thought it would be more elaborate,” I said.
“Sometimes going back to basics and improving them is better than coming up with something new.”
The server came by our table with flatbread and dishes of olive oil and honey for dipping. Zain thanked her because I was too busy eating.
“Today, in the fifth heat, when you hung back and then passed everyone, is that part of your Thracian code? To give people hope they might win when you have no intention of that happening?” he asked.
It felt as if he was talking about more than just the race, but my food was too delicious to stop eating. I decided to get him chatting so that I could nod and listen while finishing my lavraki.
“Do you have a code?” I asked.
“Yes. Don’t get caught.”
That made me laugh and he looked delighted with himself. “I thought thieves had codes that they all adhered to.”
“The Epirians have them. They claim that Eramis himself dictated them to an oracle for their benefit, so most thieves live by them. Their code is elaborate, so here are the most important parts—never steal from anyone worse off than you, don’t take people, only objects, never kill anyone while thieving, and, my favorite one, don’t get caught. ”
He flagged down the server and asked her to bring out two more fish and I couldn’t help but grin at the prospect of more.
I studied him, thinking about the Epirian code he’d just shared. “You have told me that you’re the king of thieves but I think that you are all talk.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“What have you stolen since we’ve been here? Other than the registrar’s pin, it seems like you haven’t taken anything.” I knew I was baiting him and I didn’t understand why. As far as I was concerned, stealing was wrong. So why was I encouraging him to do just that?
“You seem very determined to make me prove myself.” After a beat he asked, “If I told you that I was the king of sex, would you want me to demonstrate?”