The morning sun caught the edges of her armor, the same armor I'd helped her into countless times before. But today the familiar ritual had been tainted by the bruises I'd found on herskin, by the way she'd flinched when my fingers brushed certain spots. The memory of those bruises, of my own uselessness the night before, made bile rise in my throat.
Around us, the crowd's roar built to a crescendo, but it felt distant, meaningless. All I could focus on was Livia, the way she tested the edge of her blade with her thumb, the slight tremor in her hands that only someone who knew her as well as I did would notice. She hadn't slept much after I'd finally gotten her to my room. I'd felt her lying awake in my arms, rigid with tension, until exhaustion had finally claimed her in the early hours.
I moved toward her, using the excuse of checking her armor to close the distance between us. My fingers found the familiar straps, adjusting them with practiced ease. She stood perfectly still as I worked, but I could feel the energy radiating off her, like heat from a forge.
"The back strap is loose," I said softly, though it wasn't. I just needed a reason to stay close, to have this moment before whatever came next. My fingers lingered on the leather, remembering how different my touch had been last night, when I'd cleaned her wounds with trembling hands.
The crowd's noise faded to a dull roar in my ears as I stepped closer, close enough that only she would hear my next words. Close enough to smell the lavender oil I'd used to wash her hair in the dark hours before dawn. My throat tightened at the memory.
"I should have..." The words stuck in my throat. Should have what? Should have fought harder against the guards? Should have found a way to stop it? Should have killed Drusus with my bare hands, consequences be damned? All useless thoughts now. "I should have protected you."
She didn't respond, but I felt the slight tensing of her muscles under my hands. Desperate to fill the silence, to make her understand, I continued, "But I will. When this is over, whenwe're free, I'll make sure he never touches you again. I'll keep you safe from all of it - the violence, the fighting, everything. We'll find somewhere quiet, somewhere-"
"Marcus." Her voice was low, dangerous. She turned to face me, and the look in her eyes made me step back. There was something wild there, something that hadn't been there before last night. Or maybe it had been, and I'd been too blind to see it. "Don't."
Around us, I could hear the other gladiators taking their positions, the creak of leather and clink of metal as they prepared for the fight to come. But I couldn't look away from Livia's face, from the fury and determination I saw there.
I reached for her arm, needing her to understand. "I just want to protect you. To save you from-"
"I don't need saving." The words came out like a whip crack, sharp and final. She stepped closer, close enough that I could see the gold flecks in her eyes, the ones that always seemed to burn brighter when she was angry.
"I'm not telling you to give up," I said quickly, misunderstanding the fire in her eyes for despair. "You're the strongest person I know. Keep fighting, like I know you can. There's always hope, always a way forward. Once this tournament is over, once we've proved our worth-"
She let out a harsh laugh that made me flinch. "You still don't understand." Her hand came up to my chest, pressing against my armor. The touch was gentle, almost tender, but her eyes blazed. "This isn't about giving up or keeping hope alive. This is who I am, Marcus. The fighting, the violence - it's in my blood. I was born with a sword in my hand and fire in my heart."
"But after everything he did..." I couldn't bring myself to finish the sentence, the memory of last night still too raw.
"After everything he did, I want to fight more." Her fingers curled into a fist against my chest. "Every bruise, every cut, everyhumiliation - they don't make me want peace. They make me want to burn the whole world down."
Relief flooded through me. This was the Livia I knew, the warrior who'd captured my heart. "Good. Hold onto that fire. We just need to be patient, play their game a little longer. Once we're free-"
"Marcus." My name on her lips sounded like both a caress and a warning. "I will never stop fighting. Not in the arena, not after. That's not who I am. I'm not made for quiet lives and peaceful gardens."
I smiled, proud of her resilience, missing entirely the weight behind her words. "We'll figure it out together. Whatever comes next-"
The horn sounded again, more insistent this time. Livia's hand dropped from my chest, and something shifted in her expression - a sadness I didn't understand.
"Yes," she said softly, turning away. "Whatever comes next."
I watched her move into position, satisfaction warming my chest. She hadn't given up, hadn't let Drusus break her spirit.
I watched her take her place in the line, and unbidden, the memories of last night crashed over me like a wave of acid. Drusus's languid smile as the guards held me down. His soft footsteps circling Livia. The way he'd looked at me while he... while he...
My vision blurred red at the edges. The sword hilt creaked under my grip as my fingers tightened, remembering how they'd strained against the guards' hold. If I closed my eyes, I could still hear Livia's sharp intake of breath as Drusus's hand had first touched her face. Could still see the way she'd raised her chin, refusing to show fear even then.
The things he'd said to her. The things he'd made me watch.
A single guard would be all it would take. One moment when Drusus's back was turned. I knew a dozen ways to kill a manquickly, and a hundred ways to make it slow. I could imagine it with perfect clarity - my blade opening his throat, watching him try to speak as his life drained away. Or better yet, making him suffer first, letting him feel helpless, letting him know what it was like to be at someone else's mercy.
But that path ended only one way - with my execution, and Livia left alone to face whatever came next. I couldn't save her if I was dead. Couldn't protect her. Couldn't give her the peaceful life she deserved.
The crowd's roar shifted, taking on that particular tone that meant someone important had arrived. I didn't need to look up to know who it was. Drusus always made his entrance at the last moment, always had to be the center of attention.
"My dear people!" His voice carried across the arena, that cultured, educated tone that made him so popular with the nobles. I forced myself to look up, to watch him spread his arms wide like some benevolent father figure. He wore white today, pristine and pure, as if to mock everything he'd done in the darkness of last night. "Today, my fighters will show you true courage, true skill!"
The crowd cheered, and I watched Drusus's smile widen. He was in his element here, playing to the masses. They loved him, this wealthy, generous man who provided them such spectacular entertainment. If they only knew what he really was. If they could have seen his face last night, seen the cruel pleasure in his eyes as he...
My hands were shaking now. I could feel Antonius watching me with concern from his position to my left, but I couldn't stop the rage building in my chest. Drusus was still talking, something about honor and bravery, and each word was like a knife in my gut.
