The word hit me like a physical blow. No, she wasn't mine. Could never be mine. She belonged to Drusus, just like I did. Just like every slave in this ludus. I'd seen her serve others countless times, had forced myself to look away when hands wandered and kisses were stolen. It was our way of life, had been for years. So why did it suddenly feel like a knife in my gut?
"I just want you safe," I whispered, the words holding so much more than I could say.
She moved closer, eliminating the space I'd put between us. "And what about what I want?"
"Livia..." Her name came out as both warning and plea.
She reached up, her fingers ghosting along my jaw, and my carefully maintained control began to crumble. "What if I don't want to be safe?" she murmured. "What if I want more?"
Before I could respond, she rose on her toes and pressed her lips to mine. The kiss wasn't the expected service of a slave, but something freely given, and that made it more precious than gold.
For a moment, I remained frozen, my mind warring with my heart. Every rational thought screamed that this was dangerous - for both of us. But when she started to pull away, uncertainty flickering across her face, my restraint shattered. My hands cupped her face, drawing her back to me, and I kissed her the way I'd been dreaming about for weeks, months perhaps, though I'd never let myself admit it.
She melted against me with a soft sigh that undid me completely. Her hands slid up my chest to tangle in my hair, andI wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her closer. She tasted like sunshine. Each brush of her lips against mine felt like a gift I didn't deserve, a treasure I couldn't keep.
When we finally broke apart, I rested my forehead against hers, both of us breathing heavily. Her eyes fluttered open, and the emotion I saw there made my chest constrict. In that moment, I forgot about Septimus, about Cato, about all the other men who might claim her. I forgot about Drusus's ownership and the arena's dangers. There was only Livia, warm and real in my arms.
"I can't lose you," I whispered, the words torn from somewhere deep inside me. "Not to the arena, not to anyone. I know I have no right to feel this way, but..." The memory of Cato's violence flashed through my mind, along with images of all the ways the arena could take her from me. I thought of Septimus's protective gaze, wondered if he felt this same desperate need to keep her safe, if she went to his cell at night for comfort I couldn't give.
She silenced me with another kiss, this one fierce and determined. "Then don't lose me," she said against my lips. "Train me. Make me strong enough that you don't have to worry. But don't ask me to be less than what I am."
I pulled back slightly, studying her face in the dying light. The bruise on her jaw, the fire in her eyes, the quiet strength that radiated from her very being - all of it combined to make something beautiful and terrifying. She wasn't mine to keep, wasn't mine to lose. Tomorrow she might be ordered to another's bed, might fall in the arena, might be sold on Drusus's whim. And yet somehow she'd become everything.
"I won't," I promised, knowing I meant it despite my fears. "But you have to promise me something too."
"What?"
"Promise me you'll be careful. Promise me you won't take unnecessary risks." I traced the line of her jaw, my touch feather-light over the bruise. "I've lost too much already. I couldn't bear..." I couldn't finish the thought. The image of her broken in the arena like so many others, or worse, destroyed by men like Cato, haunted my nights.
She caught my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm that made my heart stutter. "I promise," she said softly. "As long as you promise to believe in me."
"I do believe in you," I said, and was surprised to find it was true. "More than you know." More than I should, more than was safe for either of us.
She smiled then, bright and beautiful, and I couldn't help but kiss her again. The evening bell rang in the distance, signaling dinner time. Livia pulled away reluctantly, her fingers lingering on my chest.
"I have to go," she whispered. "They'll be waiting."
I nodded, unable to trust my voice as I watched her straighten her tunic. She gave me one last look, filled with something that made my heart clench, before hurrying toward the main house.
I remained in the training yard, watching her disappear into the gathering darkness. The fever had changed things. Lying there, hovering between life and death, I'd had plenty of time to think. About my life, about my future - about what truly mattered. And now I knew with absolute certainty: Livia mattered more than anything.
Before I could lose my nerve, I headed for Drusus's office. The lanterns were still lit inside, golden light spilling from beneath the door. I knocked.
"Enter."
Drusus sat behind his desk, scrolls spread before him. He looked up as I entered, his expression warming slightly. Despiteour respective positions as master and slave, we'd developed a measure of respect over the years.
"Marcus. What brings you here at this hour?"
I took a deep breath. "The fever made me think, Dominus. About my future. I'm not getting any younger, and I believe my best days in the arena may be behind me."
Drusus leaned back, studying me. "You're still one of my best fighters."
"Perhaps. But I'd like to request permission to retire from fighting. I could still serve you by training the others. I've proven my worth in that already." I paused, gathering my courage. "And... I'd like to request my freedom."
Silence stretched between us. Finally, Drusus smiled. "You've served me well for many years, Marcus. I was wondering when you might make this request." He stood, walking to the window. He stood there for a few moments, gazing out over the empty arena, before turning back to me. “I have a proposal for you. The festival of Sol and Aeolus approaches - just two months away. I'm planning something spectacular: games unlike anything this city has seen. A tournament, with gladiators from other ludii competing."
My blood ran cold as I understood the implications. Such events always resulted in significant casualties. And Livia... she would be expected to fight. I kept my face carefully neutral.
