A Charioteer's Promise

by Tanya Bird

  Her hand went to the ring hanging from her neck, then fell to her lap. Manius did not notice. That would require looking at her.

  ‘People are going to be wondering where Dulcia has disappeared to. No one has seen her in days.’

  ‘Let them wonder.’

  The triclinium was large, comfortable, and beautifully decorated, but despite the high ceilings and open space, she always felt claustrophobic. ‘You go,’ she said to Junia. ‘There is no reason you should suffer for my mistakes.’

  Manius opened his eyes and sighed. Placing two fingers either side of his head, he rubbed small circles. ‘Go. Perhaps you will return with a smile.’

  She tried to remember the last time she had smiled. It was in the back room of the shop where she had waited with Nero for the guards to change. She had been curled up in his arms, wrapped in his scent, imagining their tomorrow. In hindsight, she was naive to believe such happiness could last.

  ‘Excellent,’ Junia said, clapping her hands together.

  Manius was watching Dulcia, and she stared right back at him, wondering what he was hoping to see. She was not afraid, because fear required feeling something.

  ‘Can you leave us for a moment?’ Manius said to Junia.

  His sister looked between them before standing and sauntering from the room. Once they were alone, Manius got up and went to crouch beside Dulcia. He took her hand, his own damp and uncomfortably warm.

  ‘We have both done things we are not proud of, but we have a chance to begin our marriage how we mean to go on. It has all gone too far now for either of us to back out, and believe me, I have thought about it.’ He cleared his throat, searching her blank face. ‘How do you feel about starting again?’

  What was she supposed to say to that? Nothing. When she did not answer, he continued.

  ‘I suppose I am asking something I should have at the very beginning. Will you marry me?’

  She almost laughed aloud at the ridiculous question. He had asked it like she suddenly had a choice. If she told him no, it would change nothing. That said, it was the first time he had admitted doing anything wrong. Her thoughts went to Licinia, a victim of their struggles. She could not walk away now. Everyone had made sure of that.

  ‘Your silence is unsettling,’ Manius said, letting go of her hand.

  She drew a breath, having forgotten to breathe. ‘Now you ask what I want? You and Rufus made plans long ago, then told me my part. My answer will change nothing.’

  ‘You are probably the only unwed plebeian in Rome who would say no to me. I still cannot fathom it.’

  She folded her hands in her lap. ‘Well, no was never an option for a woman like me—you told me that yourself.’

  He drew a long, slow breath before speaking. ‘So perhaps I asked the wrong question. The choice is really whether you want to marry against your will, resent the role and me, or, embrace it.’

  ‘And thank the gods for my good fortune?’

  He took her hand once more. ‘I truly believe we could be happy if you would just give us a chance.’ He searched her eyes. ‘Still you hesitate. Still you hold on to that man.’

  Yes, still. Her feelings would die with her one day. ‘I am not sure I can ever love you.’

  His jaw tensed. ‘I do not need you to love me. I need you to perform your role, and to do it well.’ His expression hardened. ‘Can you just agree to that?’

  Could she? Probably.

  ‘It is time for you to choose this life for yourself.’ He let go of her hand and stood.

  She opened her mouth to respond, and Nero’s face flashed in her mind. ‘I can promise to try.’

  Gods, let that be enough.

  He nodded, stepped aside, and gestured to the door. ‘Go on, then. Select your flowers. Do whatever it is you women normally do the day before you are wed. Just do it with a smile. The last thing we need is gossip.’

  She stood, her tunic clinging to her back. ‘Do you have a colour preference?’

  He pinched the top of his nose, and then his hand fell to his side. ‘Something happy.’

  She stopped next to him, touching a hand to his arm. She had promised to try. ‘I will not be long.’

  They went to the nundinae where the flowers were freshest, two servants and a bodyguard in tow. Junia seemed oblivious to their presence, acknowledging them only when she handed them something else to carry. Roses, irises, violets, poppies, as well as some wildflowers and fragrant herbs. She smelled each before passing them off.

  When they were done, Junia bought some dried apricots and pears to eat on the way back to the house. She smiled playfully at the merchant as she handed him the coin, then turned, threading her arm through Dulcia’s.

  ‘Very handsome,’ she whispered.

  ‘And married,’ Dulcia pointed out.

  Junia rolled her eyes. ‘The handsome ones always are. It does not matter anyway. Can you see my father handing me over to a fruit merchant?’

  She offered some to Dulcia, who took a piece and nibbled at it.

  ‘I suppose not.’

  Junia stopped to purchase some nuts. ‘It is nice to be out of the house.’

  ‘Is my company that bad?’

  Junia’s lips turned up in a smile. She paid the man generously and walked on. ‘You are not the only one who wishes things were different. The key is to be discreet.’ She leaned in conspiratorially. ‘You do not honestly think I have not been with a man since my husband’s passing, do you?’

  They rounded the corner, ignoring the merchants who called out to them. Before Dulcia could answer the question, she spotted Felix and Nero standing on the other side of the street. They were deep in conversation, Felix gesturing with his hands and Nero listening. Her heart began to drum at twice its normal speed. She had been unprepared to see him. Yet there he stood, handsome as ever, the lazy slant of his body and deep frown so familiar. She had hoped it would be different, hoped that when she finally laid eyes on him, the feeling would not be all consuming like it had been in the past. She should have known better.

  ‘What is it?’ Junia asked, turning to see why she had stopped. ‘Oh.’

  Dulcia should have kept walking, but then Felix glanced in her direction. She saw him curse. Nero followed his gaze, and his eyes locked on Dulcia’s. She could tell by his expression he was as surprised by the encounter as she was. They stared at one another for a moment, her earlier conversation with Manius replaying in her mind. She had promised to try.

  Bruises coloured Nero’s face. She felt sick as she recalled that night. She had been certain the beating would kill him. Her hands went to her stomach, and the nuts she had been holding fell to the ground. It drew the attention of the bodyguard, his eyes narrowing on her. Nothing good would come of crossing the street.

  When Nero went to move in her direction, Felix caught his elbow and said something. He stayed where he was, no doubt waiting to see what she would do. The most sensible thing was to go straight to the litter waiting around the corner. It was time to be smart about these things. There was no need for Nero to be beaten a second time. Yet when she turned away, every muscle in her body seemed to object to the action.

  One foot in front of the other.

  ‘Dulcia!’

  He was calling her, a voice she would recognise anywhere. Footsteps approached at a jog, and she closed her eyes when she heard their bodyguard stop walking.

  ‘Let us get you out of here,’ Junia said, threading her arm through Dulcia’s once more.

  ‘Dulcia!’

  He was so close now. If she reached back, she could probably touch him if it were not for the enormous man parked between them.

  ‘Just keep walking,’ Junia said, her face showing no signs of distress. She was experienced at remaining composed in difficult situations. It was a basic life skill for the wealthy. Dulcia, on the other hand, was trembling uncontrollably.

  ‘I’m racing tomorrow,’ Nero called to her back. ‘I’m going to win—’

  He
was cut off as he was shoved back by her guard.

  She turned to look at him. ‘Go home.’

  He raised his hands and took a step back to show the guard he was no threat.

  ‘Winning one race will not change our fates. Do not get yourself killed on my account.’ She was surprised by her cold tone.

  Felix finally caught up to them, slightly breathless. He cast an apologetic look in her direction. He understood their predicament better than most, because he had come from that world.

  ‘I hope you told him he is mad,’ Dulcia said to the dwarf. ‘It is too late.’ She looked at Nero. ‘The time for heroics has passed.’

  Felix glanced between them. ‘That was the general theme of the conversation, yes. I might have used some stronger language.’

  Close up, she could see small cuts all over Nero’s face. Her fingers pressed harder into her stomach, and she swallowed down the nausea. Manius had been right, she could not keep doing this to herself and everyone around her. ‘Race if you want to race, but do not do it for me. You told me to go back to Manius, so I did.’ The words tasted bitter in her mouth.

  He looked at her as though she were a stranger, then went towards her again, but a large hand landed on his shoulder.

  ‘That’s far enough,’ the guard said.

  Nero did not even look up at him. ‘I promised to come back for you. Did you think I would just give up?’

  She shook her head, face contorting as tears came to the surface. ‘Stop doing this to me.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘All of it. You cannot win this fight.’

  ‘You want me to stop trying?’

  The guard shoved him back, and she flinched.

  ‘You are feeding me these breadcrumbs of hope, destroying any chance I have of moving past you.’ A few merchants and shoppers looked in their direction. ‘I am stuck in this pit of… of you. I need to get out, but you keep pulling me back.’ When she inhaled, it sounded like a gasp.

  Junia tugged gently on her arm. ‘Let us save it for our poems,’ she whispered. ‘Time to go.’

  Nero linked his hands on top of his head, his broken expression mirroring her own. ‘I don’t know how to stop. I don’t know how to give up on you. So I’m going to race tomorrow, and I’m going to win.’ He dragged one hand down his face. ‘Then I’m going to offer your father whatever I have, anything he wants, and when he says no, at least I’ll know I’ve exhausted every possibility of us being together.’ He took a step back. ‘Only then will I board that ship.’

  Dulcia covered her face with her hands, feeling the crowd’s eyes on her.

  ‘Let us go,’ Junia said a final time.

  Dulcia gained control of her breathing before looking up. ‘Please board that ship.’ She was pleading. ‘You have always deserved better than what this city can offer you.’ She turned away, her feet like lead. Every step away from him felt like another piece of flesh torn from her bones.

  ‘Leave it,’ she heard Felix say behind her.

  Drawing a breath, she raised her chin. People moved out of their way as they passed.

  ‘I truly hope he does not race tomorrow,’ Junia said, tutting. ‘Manius is going to paint the wheels of his chariot with him.’

  Dulcia’s eyelids sank shut.

  Chapter 33

  Manius must have heard about the encounter at the market, the details no doubt relayed to him by the guard. He was in a good mood, so much so that he invited her mother and sister to the house to prepare for the day—her wedding day.

  It was tradition for the bride to soak in a luxurious scented bath, to wash away her previous life, her sins, her indiscretions, so that she arrived at her wedding clean in every sense of the word.

  It would have to be a long bath.

  The problem was the scalding water could not wash Nero away. As shameful as it was, he was the one person she needed most at that moment. She would have given anything to hold his hand, feel the weight of his much too heavy arm draped across her shoulders. He would press his lips to her ear. ‘I have a plan,’ he would whisper. ‘I just need time. Trust me.’ And she was foolish enough to do it. Just thinking about him brought that familiar excitement, the one that began in her belly, expanding until it filled her chest and changed the rhythm of her heart.

  ‘I’ll only let go if I have to, and I’ll always come back.’

  Hope was a disease. And she could not afford to catch it on her wedding day. It was better not to mention him at all.

  Her mother did not mention him.

  Her sister did not mention him.

  Junia did not mention him.

  Dulcia was submerged in steaming water while the other women talked around her, thinking back to the day Nero had risked his life trying to save his beloved Amator. It was the first time she had faced the possibility of losing him, and it had turned her bones to ice. On the day of her wedding, she found herself with that same feeling.

  Mila crouched down next to the tub, combing Dulcia’s wet hair with her fingers. ‘He will be all right,’ she whispered, reading her mind. ‘You both will.’ She was a much better liar than Dulcia.

  ‘I can live with him gone, but not with him dead.’ She kept her voice low so the others would not hear.

  Mila went to fetch a towel.

  ‘First, we dress you for the festival,’ Tertia said. ‘I have laid out your wedding robe for later.’

  Her mother looked so happy.

  Fixing the towel around herself, Dulcia walked over to the bed, running her gaze over the pure white robe. The colour felt like another betrayal to Nero, as though she were erasing their history. If only she could bring herself to regret it. But the truth was she had never felt so alive, so hungry for another person. So good. She had imagined many times what it would feel like to lie beside him with her bare skin on his, her cheek pressed into the nooks of his body, to wake up with his arms around her. The reality had not disappointed.

  Her eyes went to the woollen belt which would be tied in a knot called Nodus Herculaneus, symbolising the virility of Hercules, who fathered seventy children. The knot could only be untied by her husband. As she imagined Manius’s hands tugging on the belt, a lump formed in her throat.

  ‘Your hair will be divided into six sections and fastened with vittae atop your head in a tutulus,’ Junia said, running her fingers over the fabric. ‘We will crown you with flowers and finish with a yellow veil.’

  Almost there. Soon she would be lady of the house, travel by litter, host dinner parties, bear Manius’s children. She leaned her knee on the bed for balance.

  ‘But first we must stroke my brother’s ego by watching him win,’ Junia added with a smile.

  Yes, first into the belly of Rome to applaud the violence, danger and cruelty. She would eat the food offered, drink the expensive wine. She would clap for her soon-to-be husband, while praying to every listening god to keep Nero alive so he might leave Rome in one piece. He would build a life without her, fall in love again. It did not need to be her hand he held at night or her fruit tarts he ate. Perhaps his wife would make them with extra butter—just the way he liked.

  ‘I still cannot believe you are soon to be lady of this house,’ her mother said, looking around the room.

  Dulcia glanced around at the rich tapestries, colourful paintings, then down at the luxurious bed linen. The room opened up to immaculately kept gardens, maintained by slaves. She had trouble remembering their names. So many, all moving about the house with their eyes down, as she had done her entire life.

  ‘It is like a dream,’ Tertia went on. She reached down and smoothed out the robe.

  Dulcia glanced at Mila, who was staring out at the garden. Perhaps not such a great liar after all. ‘Yes, I am very fortunate.’

  ‘Bet you never imagined such a thing,’ Junia said.

  ‘Never,’ Dulcia agreed, her tone flat. Though she had imagined being married to Nero so many times it was embarrassing. In that version of herself, she was free to race
hoops along the Tiber, without it being a topic of conversation at some tedious dinner party.

  ‘I should go,’ Mila said. ‘We leave this afternoon. The ship sails in the morning whether we are on it or not.’

  There was that lump in Dulcia’s throat again. But her sister deserved to return to her paradise—as did Nero.

  ‘Sorry I cannot make the wedding, despite Manius’s generous last minute offer.’ She winked at Dulcia. ‘Remus will be at the circus with Felix and Albaus, though not anywhere near you, I imagine.’

  Dulcia would be sitting on a balcony, like a fraud.

  ‘We did not think it was a good idea for the children to attend in case anything should… go wrong.’

  What she meant was in case Nero died a horrendous death on the track, like so many novices before him. The children would never get over it—nor would she.

  At Aquila’s request, her mother was also not attending either of the events.

  ‘Do not worry,’ Junia said, picking up on the tension. ‘I will be there to ensure all goes smoothly. But first, I must get ready myself. Manius will not forgive us if we miss his big win.’ She turned to Mila. ‘Safe travels to you and your family.’ Then she strode elegantly from the room.

  Mila’s departure was not drawn out. She was not one for big emotional displays, unless it was anger, then she could put on quite the show. Pulling Dulcia into her arms, she whispered, ‘Be brave and smart.’

  Dulcia held on for a moment longer. She would not cry, would not risk her sister feeling guilty for leaving. Mila deserved to be happy and safe, and Dulcia’s new life threatened that.

  A few more words, a kiss from her mother, a tense smile from her sister, and then she was alone in the enormous room. She stared down at her wedding attire and sniffed. She had to paint her face for the event, and that was the sort of thing she was supposed to prioritise over a broken heart.