I could hear the tension in Marcus' voice when he responded. "All the fighters are progressing well. Livia especially - she's already surpassing her previous form."
The way he said her name made something twist in my gut. There was too much warmth there, too much pride. It confirmed what I'd been trying to deny all morning - the subtle glances I'd noticed at breakfast, the way their fingers had brushed when he passed her the bread, the soft smile she'd tried to hide behind her cup. There was something different about them both today, a change so slight you might miss it if you hadn't been watching for it. But I'd been watching Livia for so long I could read every subtle shift in her expression, every quiet breath, every unconscious movement of her hands.
"And you're certain you can get them ready in time?"
"Yes, Dominus. Speaking of which..." Marcus paused, and I could hear him shifting his weight. "About our arrangement - your promise of freedom if we win..."
"Yes, yes, I haven't forgotten." Drusus sounded irritated at the interruption. "Win me the tournament, and you'll have your freedom and enough coin to set yourself up properly. Though I must say, I'll miss having such an effective trainer. The way you handle them is... impressive."
"There's something else." Marcus' voice was careful now, measured. "I want Livia included in the deal."
The scratching of Drusus' stylus stopped. When he spoke again, there was dark amusement in his voice. "Ah, so that's how it is? Finally decided to stick your cock in my little Livia, did you? Took you long enough. Can’t say I blame you, she’s exquisite.That tight little pussy that just sucks in round your cock when you-”
"Dominus, please-" Marcus' voice was strained.
"What's wrong, Marcus? Don't like being reminded that she's my property?" Drusus' voice dripped with cruel enjoyment. "That while you're training her during the day, she's warming my bed at night? That every inch of that beautiful body belongs to me, to do with as I please?"
I could hear Marcus' breathing, harsh and uneven. My own hands had curled into fists, nails biting into my palms.
"If you win me the tournament," Drusus continued, "you can have her. Though I wouldn't have thought you'd want to pay for something you're already getting for free and I doubt she'll thank you for it - that one's got more fire than sense. She'll never be content spreading her legs for a retired gladiator in some miserable little farmhouse." He paused. "But then again, maybe I'll keep her anyway. After all, why should I give up something that brings me so much... pleasure?"
I didn't wait to hear Marcus' response. I was already moving, my feet carrying me away before I could betray my presence. My mind was chaos, a storm of emotions I couldn't sort through. Anger, betrayal, hurt - but the worst part was that I had no right to feel any of it.
The training yard swam before my eyes as I stumbled into the morning sunlight, my head pounding with things I couldn't unhear. Drusus' voice echoed in my mind, crude and mocking, talking about Livia's body like she was meat at the market. My Livia. No - not mine. Never mine. The only man she didn't want, apparently.
And there she was, running through her forms with that fluid grace that had first caught my eye years ago, back when I still thought I could keep my promise to Tarus. "Watch over her,"he'd made me swear, his blood hot on my hands. "Keep her safe." Some fucking job I'd done of that.
Marcus emerged from the building behind me. I didn't turn to look, but I could feel his presence, hear his footsteps falter slightly when he saw me. My friend. My brother in arms. The man who was fucking the woman I loved. I couldn’t deny it any more. I loved her. I’d probably always loved her, I wasn’t sure. It had snuck up on me, consuming me before I even noticed and now it was too late. She was the very air I breathed, the warmth of the sun, the cool water that revived me. She was everything I lived for. And I was nothing to her.
I watched as he crossed to where Livia trained. She turned as he approached, and there it was - that softness in her eyes that I'd spent years dreaming about, that I'd never once seen directed at me. He corrected her stance with careful hands, and my mind flashed to those same hands on her body, touching her the way Drusus touched her, the way every man but me seemed to get to touch her-
"Septimus!" Marcus called out, his voice perfectly normal, like he hadn't just been bargaining for her like a piece of property. "Come spar with Livia. She needs to practice against someone closer to her height."
I wanted to tell him to fuck off. Wanted to scream at him to keep his hands off my woman. Except she wasn’t mine. Could never be mine. And now one day soon, she’d be his. Instead, I picked up a practice sword, my grip so tight my knuckles went white. This was what we did, after all. We fought. We bled. We pretended.
Livia settled into her fighting stance, and gods help me, she was beautiful. How many nights had I lain awake, sick with wanting her? How many times had I listened to Drusus' footsteps in the corridor, knowing where he was going, knowingwhat he was doing to her? And now Marcus too - Marcus, who she chose, who she wanted.
"Begin!" Marcus called.
Our swords met with a crack that jarred my teeth. I attacked with everything I had, every suppressed feeling, every night of jealousy and self-loathing flowing through my arms. Livia matched me blow for blow, her face set in that fierce concentration I loved so much. That I had no right to love.
"Keep your guard up!" Marcus shouted. The concern in his voice made me want to vomit. How dare he pretend to care about her safety when he was just another man using her?
But wasn't that what I wanted too? To have her, to own her, to make her mine? I was no better than any of them. Worse, maybe - at least they were honest about their desires. I hid mine behind nobility and promises to a dead man, pretending I was different, pretending I was good.
Livia spun away from my attack, her sword whistling past my ear. Too close - I'd lost focus. She pressed her advantage, driving me back across the sand, and suddenly all I could think about was her body against Marcus', her lips on his, her in Drusus' bed, everywhere but with me, wanting everyone but me-
My next swing came in too hard, too wild. Livia barely managed to deflect it, stumbling back with widened eyes. "Watch it, Septimus!" Marcus barked from the sidelines. "This is practice, not the arena!"
I ignored him, pressing forward. Livia recovered quickly - she always did - meeting my attacks with increasing intensity. A thin sheen of sweat made her skin glow in the morning light. I remembered how she used to laugh during our sparring matches, how sometimes her hand would linger on my arm after a good bout. Now she just watched me with wary eyes, like I was a stranger. Like I was dangerous.
"What's wrong with you today?" she hissed under her breath as our swords locked.
I leaned in close, close enough to smell the lavender oil she used in her hair. "Nothing's wrong," I said, my voice cold. "Just tired of pretending."
The confusion in her eyes made something twist in my gut. She didn't even know what she did to me. How every smile, every casual touch was like a knife between my ribs. How watching her with Marcus was slowly driving me mad.
I shoved her back harder than necessary, our swords scraping apart with a screech of metal. She stumbled but kept her footing, her expression hardening into something like hurt before she masked it.
