A Charioteer's Promise

by Tanya Bird

  ‘Two rooms with a shared courtyard.’

  Mila’s hand went to her brow. ‘Oh, Nero.’

  He cut through the bread, then put the knife down. Breaking the cheese in two, he placed one piece on the bread and shoved the other into his mouth. ‘She doesn’t want to marry him. Told me plain as day.’

  ‘She might not have a choice.’ Mila glanced at the children to check if they were listening. Asha was, of course. The boys were happily playing. ‘You are risking your life in the arena in hope that she will walk away from her obligations.’

  He continued as if she had not spoken. ‘It’s close by. Ground floor. I don’t ever want her trapped upstairs if there’s a fire.’

  Mila’s expression was filled with pity. He had to look away.

  ‘Don’t look at me like that. If I offer her an out, she’ll take it.’ He watched Mila’s reaction to his words.

  ‘For whatever reason, Rufus has decided to behave like a father. That means it is not up to her.’

  Asha began tugging on his hand. He tore his gaze away from Mila and looked down at her. ‘What is it?’

  She gestured with a finger for him to come closer, so he bent, bringing his ear to her mouth.

  ‘Just marry her,’ she whispered. ‘Tonight. Consummate it so it will be too late for Rufus to do anything but give his blessing.’

  ‘Asha!’ Mila said from the other side. ‘Who on earth taught you about consummation?’

  She looked innocently at her mother. ‘Felix.’

  Nero smirked, and Mila shook her head.

  ‘Well, I will be having words with Felix later.’ Mila looked between them. ‘And you should not encourage him.’

  Asha held on to Nero’s hand. ‘But he loves her. He’s always staring at her when he thinks nobody is watching.’

  ‘No I don’t,’ Nero said, covering Asha’s mouth with his free hand.

  ‘Yes you do,’ Mila replied, walking over to the table.

  Asha pushed his hand away. ‘But it’s all right, because she does it too. So you have to marry her.’

  Mila wrapped the cheese. ‘Before you follow the advice of a six-year-old, are you prepared for what will happen if Dulcia does walk away from Manius?’

  Nero straightened. ‘I’ll marry her today if she agrees to it.’

  ‘I am talking about Manius’s reaction.’

  Just the mention of his name put him on edge. ‘I can handle Manius.’

  Mila did not look convinced. ‘In a fight, sure.’ She dragged a bowl to her, lifted the tea towel and poked at the dough. Satisfied, she upturned it onto the floured part of the bench. ‘But he will not attack with his fists.’

  ‘I told you,’ he said, taking hold of her shoulders and squeezing. ‘I can handle him.’

  Mila pounded the dough with her fist.

  ‘She’s angry kneading,’ Asha whispered up at him.

  ‘I am not angry kneading.’ Mila looked between them. ‘I am just worried.’

  Nero leaned on the bench, watching her for a moment. ‘Perhaps you think she should marry Manius. I wouldn’t blame you.’

  She stopped and looked at him, her expression softening. ‘There is no better man for my sister than you. I would love nothing more than to see you both happy.’

  Nero gave her a lopsided smile. ‘In that case, I forgive you for pounding me across the head earlier.’ He winked and strode off.

  ‘Where are you going?’ Mila called,

  ‘She will be at the nundinae. If I hurry, I might catch her.’

  Mila sighed, then waved him away. ‘Go, but be careful.’

  Chapter 19

  Nero watched her from afar. The merchant was leaning forwards over his produce in order to hear her. Nero’s hands fisted when the man’s eyes dropped below her face for the third time. Dulcia leaned closer, repeating herself yet again. The merchant must have heard her that time, because he straightened and smiled at her. Nero had no choice but to swallow down his jealousy. He could not blame the man. Her beauty was visible to everyone: men, women, children. Hell, dogs stopped in the streets to watch her pass.

  The merchant loaded the items into her basket, as if she were incapable of lifting a pear without his help. Then he kept hold of the handle for a moment, smiling as he chatted away. What on earth was he saying? There were buyers lined up, waiting.

  Unable to stand it any longer, Nero strode towards them, eyes on Dulcia, who was shrinking farther away while the loaf of a man kept hold of her basket. A few more strides and he was at her side.

  ‘I’ll take it from here,’ he said, yanking the basket from the merchant’s hands.

  The man’s eyes widened with surprise. Then, reading Nero’s face, he nodded and turned to the next customer. Nero watched him a moment longer, just in case he dared to look at her again. When he turned to Dulcia, he was met with crossed arms and a scowl.

  ‘Let’s go,’ he said, gesturing for her to go ahead of him.

  She shook her head before walking off.

  The last time he had seen her, she had looked so pale, so fragile. She seemed better, though the dark circles remained around her eyes. Perhaps she was not sleeping, or woke smelling smoke, like he did sometimes.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ she asked over her shoulder.

  ‘Looking for you.’ A nervous excitement churned his insides. ‘I want to show you something.’

  She stopped walking and looked around. For what, he had no idea. She reached out and took the basket back from him, then sighed. ‘I should really get home.’

  ‘It won’t take long.’

  She was trying very hard not to look at him, but finally her eyes met his and her expression softened. ‘All right.’ The words came out in a resigned breath.

  He took the basket back from her. ‘This way.’

  They strolled side by side, Dulcia keeping more distance between them than usual; less eye contact, less conversation—less everything. She was closed up so tight he worried he would not get through to her.

  ‘Where are we going?’ she asked as they entered the rowdy streets of Subura. ‘I gather not the river.’

  He shook his head. ‘Not the river.’ Touching a hand to the small of her back, he guided her through a narrow alleyway. She walked closer to him then, nervous eyes searching the shadows. The neighbourhood did not exactly have the safest reputation, but the apartment was on an open street. ‘Almost there.’

  ‘Almost where?’ She glanced over her shoulder again.

  He leaned closer. ‘Patience.’

  They emerged from the darkness onto a busy street. Children played, and women stood in clusters gossiping, pausing occasionally to yell at their offspring. Yes, it was still Subura, but he liked to think of it as the classy part.

  ‘Now where?’ she asked, looking up at him.

  He gestured to the building on his left. ‘We’re here.’

  She turned to look at the building. ‘We are?’

  He took her hand and pulled her through an archway at the base of the insulae. Instead of going up the stairs, he led her behind them to a small door.

  Her hand tightened on his. ‘What is this place?’

  He fiddled with the handle of the door for a few moments before giving up and throwing his shoulder into it. It whined as it swung open. ‘Just needs oiling.’ He gestured for her to go ahead of him.

  She stared into the room, not moving. ‘Who lives here?’

  ‘No one yet,’ he laughed. ‘But me, soon.’ He did not say us, did not want to risk her fleeing before she had a chance to see its potential.

  ‘You?’ Her brows formed a suspicious frown.

  He drew a breath. ‘Please go inside.’

  She walked into the apartment, stopping in the middle of the room and looking around. She said nothing.

  Nero went to the small window on the opposite wall and pulled back the curtain. The fabric came apart in his hand, and a cloud of dust whirled around him. He coughed, and she flinched at the noise.
/>   ‘Sorry,’ he said, waving a hand in front of his face. ‘It’s not much yet, but it will be. Two rooms. The second opens to the courtyard.’ He stepped in that direction. ‘Come.’

  ‘Yours?’ Her feet were seemingly anchored to that one spot.

  Nerves pelted his gut. ‘I’ve paid the first six months’ rent.’

  Her eyes went to him then, cutting through him. ‘Six months?’ A pause. ‘Where did you get the coin?’

  He shrugged. ‘I’ve been working.’

  Dulcia looked around the room, unreadable.

  He could not handle the silence, the waiting, the not knowing. ‘I got it for us.’

  At first he thought she did not hear because she did not react. He reached for her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. Her gaze fell to them, and he waited for her to say something.

  Nothing.

  The nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach grew. ‘You could sew us new curtains.’ He had no idea why he said that, and it was clearly the wrong thing to say, because she burst into tears. Retracting her hand, she faced her back to him. He immediately turned her around again, lifting her face so he could read her.

  ‘I’ll find another apartment,’ he said, ‘a better one.’

  She took a step back from him, head shaking. ‘It’s not the apartment.’

  His heart was drumming in his ears. ‘Then why are you upset?’

  Her hands fell to her sides and she stared at the roof instead of him, lips pressed in a thin line as she tried to stop herself from crying. ‘Because it is too late.’

  His hands closed, opened again. ‘No it’s not.’

  ‘Yes it is.’ She looked at him. ‘It really is.’

  ‘Why? Did you secretly wed Manius?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then it’s not too late.’

  She pulled away from him and walked off into the other room. He followed but paused in the doorway, watching as she opened the door to the courtyard. Sunshine spilled into the room, bathing her in golden light. His heart seemed to stop beating for a moment as he imagined seeing her that way every morning, when the sun was at that exact angle.

  She looked around, hugging herself. ‘Yesterday, Manius surprised me also.’

  He stepped into the room and walked over to stand beside her. He leaned his back on the doorframe so he could see her face and waited for her to continue.

  ‘He took me to an enormous house upon a hill in region thirteen. Soon to be our home.’

  Nero looked around the apartment, which suddenly seemed smaller. ‘Well, I can’t compete with that.’

  She turned to face him. ‘I felt physically ill as I tried to imagine my life there, sharing that home with him. I was supposed to be happy, grateful, excited, feel all the things a woman like me should feel.’

  He frowned. ‘What do you mean, a woman like you?’

  ‘Slaveborn. Worthless. A nobody.’

  He blinked, not believing what he was hearing. Her hair was out and swept to one side. She had never looked more worthy of a grand house. He reached out and touched her hair. ‘Is that what he told you?’

  She did not reply.

  He would pummel that man next time he ran into him. ‘You’re not worthless. You’re a goddess. And if he hasn’t told you that, then he doesn’t deserve you.’

  She pushed hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear. It immediately sprang free again. That was when he noticed the purple bruise enclosing her wrist. Catching her elbow, he narrowed his eyes.

  ‘What happened to your arm?’ He was tiring of Aquila’s outbursts. Dulcia was an easy target for a scorned woman like her.

  Her silence made him suspicious, because she always just told him the truth without a moment’s hesitation.

  ‘A mishap in the kitchen.’

  She really was a terrible liar, and there was only one reason she would lie—she was protecting someone. ‘Who did that to your arm?’

  She put her arm behind her back and turned away from the courtyard. ‘I have to go.’

  ‘Dulcia—’

  ‘Let it go. It does not matter.’

  ‘Of course it matters.’ He reached for her face, but she pushed his hands away.

  ‘I really have to go.’

  He stepped in front of her, linking his hands on top of his head. ‘Are you telling me no? You don’t want to marry me?’

  When she looked up at him, there was anger in her eyes. ‘Oh, was that a proposal?’

  He tried to recall what he had said to her in the moments prior. Fool. It had been a far cry from the speech he had planned in his head. He took both of her hands in his and dropped to his knees. He would beg if that was what it took. Once she walked out that door, his chance would be gone.

  ‘I’m sorry. You deserve flowers and sonnets, but I forgot about the flowers, and I’m a terrible poet.’ He paused, his mouth dry. ‘Don’t marry Manius. Don’t. Marry me instead, and I swear to the gods, I will spend the rest of my life trying to make you happy.’ He swallowed. ‘Please. Trust me.’

  She looked down at him, eyes glassy, bottom lip trembling. ‘I can’t. I told you before, it is too late. Just being here with you is risky.’ She glanced at the door behind him. ‘Manius is understandably threatened by my… past feelings for you. He has made it very clear that—’

  He snatched her bruised arm and held it between them. ‘Is that what this is?’ He struggled to keep his voice calm. ‘Did he do this to you? Felt the need to pull you into line?’

  She yanked her arm free. ‘Why does everyone feel the need to hold on to me while lecturing me?’ There was hurt in her eyes. ‘I can hear just fine without being handled.’

  His shame almost knocked him backwards. Slowly, he raised his hands, showing that he would not touch her again. He was no better than Manius in that moment. ‘Don’t go.’ His voice was a deep plea.

  She shook her head, eyes welling again and spilling over. ‘I have to.’ She brushed the tears away. ‘Do you not understand what I am trying to tell you? It is too late. Now I must return home to my mother, and she is going to ask me where I have been. And you know what a fantastic liar I am.’

  ‘So tell her the truth.’

  ‘The wedding date is set. The dress is being made.’ She looked around, exasperated. ‘Manius bought us a house.’ She sniffed. ‘What do you think will happen if I walk away at this point?’

  Nero moved closer, wanting to grab her, but knowing that was not a good idea. ‘You think I can’t take care of you? Is that it?’

  ‘I never needed to be taken care of. I only ever needed you.’ She took a step back. ‘And you wait until a few weeks out from my wedding day to figure out your feelings.’

  ‘That is absolute shit and you know it.’

  A pained noise escaped her. ‘I am going.’ She walked through to the other room and snatched up the basket.

  ‘Stay.’ A final plea.

  ‘It is too late. If you do not realise that, then I cannot help you.’

  He grabbed her arm again, unable to stop himself. His chest felt like it was being torn open.

  She spun on him. ‘Stop touching me!’

  He immediately released her, eyes going to the bruise. ‘He’ll pay for leaving that mark on you.’

  She waved away his words. ‘You already beat him up once, remember?’

  His palms went over his eyes, his frustration palpable. ‘How could I forget? You practically laid yourself over him like a human shield.’

  ‘Someone had to stop you. Heaven forbid you show some restraint for once in your life.’

  He could not believe what he was hearing. ‘I’ve been showing nothing but restraint since I arrived back here.’ He took an unsteady breath, stepped back. ‘I see what you’re doing. You’re trying to make walking away easier. Is that it?’ He nodded, as if he had just figured it all out. ‘If you can just find a way to hate me, then you can go to your rich house on the hill and not feel guilty for walking out.’

  Her face
reddened. ‘You think this is easy?’ More tears escaped. ‘I feel like I am dying inside.’ She pressed a hand to her chest. ‘Every day betrothed to that man has been a small death. I never wanted a wealthy husband, a big house. I am embarrassed to travel in a litter, uncomfortable at parties, waited on by slaves I am supposed to ignore, just like I was ignored my entire life.’ She sucked in a breath, a sob tearing through her. ‘I only ever wanted you.’

  He held his hands in front of him, as though offering up the broken pieces of himself. ‘Stay. We’ll figure this out.’

  She shook her head, then said slowly, ‘It is too late.’

  He groaned, dragging his fingers through his hair. ‘Fine. Go. Go marry Manius. He can have you. Whatever problems you encounter along the way can easily be solved with money.’

  Her hands went over her ears. ‘Stop.’

  ‘Make Rufus really proud of the daughter he ignored all those years. That’s what this is about, after all.’

  ‘Stop it!’

  ‘Congratulations, your wedding guests will say. Your father finally loves you for one reason only—you married well.’

  She staggered back from his words, then turned and ran for the door. He forced his feet to keep still, to not chase her, to not fall at her feet and beg her forgiveness.

  ‘Dulcia,’ he called. He was surprised when she froze in the doorway. One word with so much power. She turned, panting and broken. ‘You can leave the door open.’

  Chapter 20

  Another dinner. Another evening pretending she belonged. This time it was a different circle of friends, but Dulcia could barely tell the difference between them. Same excess of food, fabric, jewels and wigs made from the hair of conquered civilisations. She sat beside Manius on the lounge, stifling a yawn. The fight with Nero, the tears, the heartbreak—it had left her exhausted.

  ‘Oh, are we keeping you awake?’ Livia said from across the table, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

  Junia waved her cup, gesturing for more wine. ‘Oh, Mother, leave Dulcia alone. She is allowed to feel tired.’

  Livia held her cup up also, then turned to the woman beside her. ‘Tiredness can be a sign of infertility, you know.’