"He's not dangerous," I said, keeping my voice level. “Except in the arena, like every other gladiator.”
Octavia snorted. "They're all dangerous. Half-breed or full-blood, it makes no difference. You can't trust anything with demon blood in its veins. Did you hear what they did to that settlement up north? Burned it to the ground, killed everyone inside."
But I'd seen Tarshi's pain when he spoke of belonging nowhere - rejected by humans for his Talfen blood, knowing nothing of his father's people except the stories spat at him like poison. He'd been raised by his human mother until they'd taken him,and now he had only fragments of memories: her songs, her smile, the way she'd tried to hide his slightly pointed ears beneath his hair.
"Maybe there's more to the story," I said carefully. "Maybe-"
"Don't tell me you're feeling sorry for him." Octavia's fingers stilled on my armor. "Liv, I know you have a soft heart under all that warrior facade, but some creatures don't deserve sympathy. The priests say Talfen are born from demon seed. Even half-breeds carry that taint."
Creatures. Not people. Never people. I thought of Tarshi's eyes in the darkness, the way they caught the moonlight. The gentleness in his touch when he traced my scars. How he spoke of his mother, the only connection he'd ever had to love or family. How could I make her understand that he was more human than most of the men who claimed that title?
But I couldn't. The weight of that secret pressed against my chest like a stone. Would she still look at me with such sisterly affection if she knew? Would she understand that when he held me, I felt more free than I ever had in the arena? Or would she recoil in horror, seeing me as tainted, corrupted?
"I just think," I said carefully, "that we shouldn't judge without knowing."
"I know enough." She yanked a strap tight, making me wince. "Promise me you'll keep your distance when he's back in training. The last thing I need is to be washing your blood from the sand because you got too close to a savage."
I closed my eyes briefly, remembering how close I'd been just hours ago, the heat of his skin against mine, his heartbeat under my palm. If only she could see him as I did - protective but never possessive, strong but infinitely gentle. A man who shared stories of his mother's songs in the dark, who treated the younger gladiators with kindness despite his own pain. Butthose thoughts had to stay locked away, buried deep where they couldn't betray us both.
"I'll be careful," I promised. It wasn't exactly a lie. We were being careful - careful not to get caught.
"You better." She moved around to face me, worry clear in her dark eyes. "I've lost enough friends to stupidity and bad luck. I won't lose you to a Talfen's claws."
The raw fear in her voice made my chest ache. "Tavi-"
"I don't understand it," she burst out. "You're educated, well-spoken. You could have found a place in any noble household. Instead you chose..." She gestured at my armor, my weapons, the calluses on my hands.
"Choose what? You’d rather I chose to clean up after spoiled nobles? To warm their beds when ordered?" The bitterness in my voice surprised even me. "To be passed around like a jug of wine until I'm too old or too used up to be of interest?"
"As opposed to being killed for their entertainment?" She sat beside me with a heavy sigh. "At least house slaves grow old."
"Some do." I thought of the girl who'd served in Drusus's house last summer, who'd disappeared after dropping his favorite goblet. "Some don't."
Octavia was quiet for a long moment. "At least tell me why. Really why."
I studied my hands, the scars and calluses that marked them now. How could I explain the fire that burned in my gut? The need to be more than just another conquered thing? And deeper still, the hunger for vengeance that I couldn't even admit to myself most days?
"Because with this," I said finally, "I have a chance. If I'm good enough, if I win enough, I might catch some ludus owner's eye. Work my way up. Maybe even earn my freedom someday."
"Freedom?" She laughed, but there was no humor in it. "You're still a possession, Liv. Just one that bleeds more prettily."
"True." I couldn't argue that point. "But I'm a possession with a sword. And that's something."
She shook her head, but I saw the ghost of a smile touch her lips. "You're mad. Completely mad."
"Probably." I bumped her shoulder with mine. "But you love me anyway."
"Gods know why." She leaned into me slightly, her voice softening. "I just don't want to lose you too."
The words hung between us, heavy with memory. We'd both lost too many friends over the years, to disease or punishment or simple disappearance. In the empire, friends were luxury items - easily broken, rarely replaced.
"You won't," I promised, though we both knew it was a lie. "And when I'm rich and famous, I'll come back and buy your freedom. We'll live in a villa by the sea."
"With silk cushions and honeyed dates?" Her smile grew more genuine.
"Mountains of them. And wine from Alexandria."
"And a dozen handsome slaves to fan us with palm fronds?"
