A twinge of compassion tried to worm its way into her heart. He had rescued her from a life of slavery and taught her to become more than she was. He had tried to quit this business, to disappear into some remote vineyard and try his hand growing grapes rather than covering it with blood. But his past still followed him, reminding her that the only true escape from this business was death.
As his eyes dulled, a quick prayer to the gods spilled forth from her lips, asking them to help Cassius find peace in the afterlife.
His limp body sagged against the chain, and Azurha lowered him to the ground to unwind it from his neck. Even dead, he still managed to make her stomach tighten in apprehension. He’d faked his death before. Was he doing it now?
Never believe someone is dead until you hear his heart stop beating.
A rule that would not be ignored by her. She snatched the sword off the floor and swiped it across his throat. Instead of the normal gush of blood she’d witnessed in the living, his blood oozed from the wound like thickened honey. He was dead, and she could finally close that chapter in her life.
She searched his body for the keys she’d heard when he arrived and found the one that fit the lone manacle. Cassius may be dead, but as long as Pontus lived, Titus was still in danger. She had one more job to complete before the poison took her life.
27
Titus stared at Pontus, searching for the lies he knew lurked under the emotionless mask his cousin wore. “You mean you had no idea she was an assassin?”
Pontus pretended to stifle a yawn. “I find this line of questioning rather insulting, coz.”
“You will not use such informal language with me in my throne room.” The booming volume of his order had the desired effect, startling the bored façade from Pontus’s face. Titus curled his fingers around the arms of his throne, narrowing his eyes. “Why did you send her to my palace?”
“How many times do I have to answer this absurd question? The story remains the same. I let it be known that I was searching for a concubine to donate to your harem, and she was the most attractive out of those that responded. Excuse me for not realizing a woman could be an assassin, much less the Rabbit.”
Marcus and Galerius simultaneously cracked their knuckles at Pontus’s sarcastic response. All Titus had to do was give the command, and they’d gladly forget their stations to beat Pontus into a bloody pulp as if they were in a low-end tavern rather than the Imperial throne room.
Titus waited to see if any chink in Pontus’s armor would appear, but none did. He settled back in his throne. “I want to see documentation. Proof to support your story. And please be aware that once Azurha becomes conscious, I’ll be listening very closely to her side of the story.”
A smug grin wormed its way across his cousin’s lips. “If you insist, although I doubt you’ll learn much from her.”
Something about Pontus’s arrogance made the hairs on the back of Titus’s neck stand on end. His pulse quickened, and he fought the urge to race down to the prison to check on her. “You’re to be held here at the palace until sufficient documentation is produced to support your story.”
The smug grin fell from his face, and he lowered into a bow. “As Your Imperial Majesty wishes.”
“Captain Galerius, please show Governor Gurges to chambers befitting his station and see that they are appropriately secured.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
Two members of the Legion flanked Pontus and led him out of the throne room behind their captain.
Titus inhaled deeply and let his frustration exit his body with his breath. He dreaded the next person he was forced to question. Why had Azurha deceived him? Worse, why had she made him fall in love with her when she was hired to kill him? His heart was so tangled up in the web of lies and lust she’d spun around him, he doubted he could order her execution without killing part of himself in the process.
“Let’s step into the other room for a bit of refreshment,” Marcus whispered and motioned his head toward the side room.
Titus rose and followed his friend, glad to find shelter from the dozens of prying stares that came from the nobles and advisers who packed the throne room. Word had spread quickly throughout Emona that the emperor’s consort was the Rabbit, and now they all seemed eager to discover what fate awaited her.
Varro waited for them in the other room and poured two glasses of chilled wine as soon as the door closed. His expression bore the marks of carefully guarded restraint, something he’d probably perfected over the years of his service to the Imperial Family.
Titus took his glass. “Say it, Varro. You were right to suspect her. Enjoy your moment to scold me like the foolish pup I am.”
“You know I would never do such a thing, Emperor Sergius.” Varro clasped his hands behind his back in a manner that said he would speak nothing more on the matter.
“Then you do it, Marcus.”
His friend choked on the wine he was drinking. He wiped his mouth and cleared his throat. “Me? Why would I scold you?”
“Because you both warned me about her, and like a lust-filled boy, I refused to believe anything bad about her.” He sank into a chair and rubbed his face. “This is what I get for thinking with my dick. I suppose I should be grateful that soldier caught her before she sank that dagger into my heart.”
Varro and Marcus exchanged glances as if each one was daring the other to speak first. Marcus sighed and sat next to him, the obvious loser in the battle of wills. “Yes, we warned you that she was more than she seemed, and we were right, but if she’s truly the Rabbit, she acted out of character.”
Some of the weight lifted from Titus’s soul when he heard that. “What do you mean?”
“The Rabbit is known for the ability to strike fast—hence, the name. The fact Azurha spent two weeks in your bed and didn’t attempt to kill you once… Well, it doesn’t make sense.”
“Agreed,” Varro said from his station by the tray. “I think we should hear Lady Azurha’s account of these events before we jump to any conclusions.”
Titus closed his eyes, and his heart ached in such a manner that he pressed his fist against his chest.
By the gods, she was a killer. I shouldn’t care for her now that I know the truth.
“If you prefer, we can have Galerius do the questioning,” Marcus added.
It wasn’t the questions themselves he dreaded. It was her answers. But if he passed the task to someone else, it would only make him appear weak. He was emperor. This was his throne, and he needed to show his subjects that no one would challenge him for it and escape the consequences. If he failed, he might as well surrender his crown now. “No, I will do the questioning, but later. I need time to sort this out first.”
“Of course, Titus.” Marcus stood and patted him on the back. “We’ll be here if you need us.”
Titus nodded. More of the weight lifted from his shoulders. “I’m going to rest in my chambers. Please dismiss the circus gathered in the throne room. I won’t be questioning her today.”
“Of course, Emperor Sergius.” Varro gave him a curt bow and slipped through the door.
“You shouldn’t do this alone, Titus,” Marcus cautioned. “I saw how much you cared about her—”
“And it was all a lie!” The anger he tried so hard to contain exploded inside him, and he shoved his chair to the side with such force the wood splintered. “Every night, she lay there in my arms, telling me she loved me when all she really wanted to do was kill me and collect her money.”
A sob of pain welled up in his chest. By the gods, he would not let anyone see how much she had wounded him. He pressed his eyes shut and locked his jaw to confine the fury of emotions that stormed inside him. When they finally abated, he whispered, “And I was foolish enough to believe her.”
Marcus rested his hands on Titus’s shoulders, steadying him like two strong oak beams placed to keep a roof from collapsing in a storm. “There’s still a chance she’s innocent.”
“Even if she is, will I be able to trust her?”
Marcus backed away, his usually mirthful blue eyes now solemn. “That’s something only you can decide. I meant it when I said that you were no good without her.”
“Maybe, but what good am I when I can’t trust the one person I love the most?”
…
Azurha ducked into a storage room as soon as she heard the cry of alarm. Her heart pounded, and not even the feeling of cold steel in her hand could soothe it.
They know I’ve escaped
.
She pressed her free hand against the burning in her side. Her palm came away wet and sticky with blood. Her pulse quickened. Her minutes were numbered, and here she was, playing a coward.
She peeked around the corner at the members of the Legion who’d run past her hiding place. They stopped in front of the palace entrance, joining their comrades that gathered around the captain under the light of torches and the rising moons. His words were muffled, and she strained to listen to them.
“… was an imposter. Your two brothers who were sent to escort him to the barracks were found dead just a few blocks from the Coliseum…”
So that was how Cassius escaped. She pressed her forehead against the hilt of his sword. If they were searching for him, they wouldn’t have to go far to find him. She’d left his body in her cell. Then their hunt would turn to her.
With everyone’s attention focused on the captain, she tightened her grip on the sword and made a dash for the entrance. She recalled the twists and turns Pontus had guided her through on the way to the throne room. From there, she could easily find her way to Titus’s chambers and warn him.
An eerie silence hung over the palace. The long shadows of twilight bathed the deserted corridors in darkness. Even the slaves were so caught up in the day’s events that they’d failed to light the candles on time. Instead of unnerving her, though, the conditions eased some of the fear from her soul. These were ideal conditions for an assassin, providing the perfect opportunity to slip into the heart of the palace without being noticed.
Once she got to the empty throne room, she clung to the walls like a spider. Her mouth went dry. This was almost too easy, as if she was walking into a trap specifically created to catch her. A Rabbit snare of a different sort.
She tightened her grip on the sword and peered through the crack in the door. All she had left to cross was the small chamber that stood between the throne room and the hall to Titus’s private quarters. She nudged the door open and tip-toed inside.
“Going somewhere, Lady Azurha?”
She whirled around at the sound of Varro’s voice and watched the door slam shut behind her. The click of the locks followed. She bit back a groan when she spied the brass plate next the door. Its presence mocked her as much as the iron bars of her cell.
Varro circled her, lighting candles as he moved through the room. His steps showed no sign of the limp that had plagued him for as long as she had known him. Instead, a scabbard hung from his belt, its tip grazing the old scar that twisted around his knee. The adornments announced its bearer to be the captain of the Legion, and a shard of apprehension pierced her soul.
She lifted her head. The truth was on her side, for once, and she had nothing to lose from sharing her secrets now. “Titus is in danger.”
His eyes flicked to the bloodied weapon in her hands. “Yes, I can see that.”
When he reached to draw his sword, she took a step back. “It’s not me.”
“Circumstances would suggest otherwise.” The steel blade slid from its sheath with a sickening hiss. “Care to explain to me why you’re sneaking through the palace with gladius in your hand?”
“Please, Varro, I’m not the enemy here.” Her voice shook when she spoke. Why would the gods allow her to get this close only to have her fail? Every time she thought she was one step ahead, they cruelly mocked her.
He pulled his arm up and back, his blade aimed straight for her heart as he closed the distance between them. “I told you once I pledged my life to protect the emperor. Do you really think I’d let you pass without using my last breath to stop you?”
She knew his movements well enough to know what was coming. It would be simple to dodge his blow and follow it with a slice through his gut that would litter the floor with entrails.
But too much blood had been spilt today. Fighting him would only spread the poison faster through her body and hasten her death. She let her sword’s tip fall to the ground. “If you truly think I’m a threat to Titus, then kill me now.”
Varro balked at her reaction and lowered his blade. “Is this some kind of ruse?”
The weight of her sword seemed to multiple with each second, and she released it. It fell between them, forming an invisible barrier neither one of them crossed. A trembling formed deep inside her. It worked its way up and out through her limbs, sapping her strength as the standoff continued. Time was running out. If she didn’t share her secret soon, it would die with her. “Pontus hired me to kill Titus.”
Varro’s jaw dropped at her confession, but he quickly regained his composure and took aim at her again. “And I take it you are on your way to complete your task.”
She shook her head, fighting back the weakness that threatened to make her knees buckle. “I want him to know who the true enemy is.”
New lines appeared in Varro’s already wrinkled brow, and Azurha’s heart skipped a beat. He was either weighing the truth in her words or figuring out the best way to kill her. It didn’t matter now. She’d said all she needed to say, and she wouldn’t fight him.
The doors to the throne room banged open, and a chorus of pounding footsteps echoed off the marble walls. Varro turned his attention in that direction, and Azurha managed to get three steps closer to the hallway before he ordered her to halt.
Galerius burst into the side room. Scorch marks adorned his normally spotless tunic, and a bruise bloomed along his jaw. He spotted Azurha and pointed to her. “There’s the assassin,” he said to his men. “Seize her.”
Instead of letting the two members of the Legion grab her, Varro stepped in between them with his sword still drawn. “Wait.”
Varro may have been the palace steward now, but the command with which he issued that one word still carried the force of a captain of the Legion. The men obeyed, and Galerius didn’t contradict him.
“Where is Governor Pontus?” Varro asked.
“That’s who we were searching for.” Galerius replied. “We were taking him down to the prison when he attacked us. I’ve never seen a Deizian use magic without a conduit before.”
Azurha’s heart rose into her throat. “He got away?”
A muscle rippled along the captain’s jaw. “Care to tell us where to find him?”
Raw energy flowed though her limbs, negating the effects of the poison. Cassius said he hadn’t been hired to kill Titus. If Pontus had decided to take matters into his own hands…
“Titus,” she whispered before she snatched up her sword and ran down the hallway.
She didn’t need to turn around to know that Varro, Galerius, and the other two members of the Legion were right on her heels. Moonlight flashed through the open windows as she passed them before plunging her back into the darkened shadows in between. When she got to the doors that led to Titus’s private chambers, she pulled to a stopped and yanked on the doors. They rattled in protest, but didn’t budge. Locked, as usual.
“Allow me, Lady Azurha.” Varro pressed his palm against the brass plate like she’d seen him do dozens of times before, but the familiar click never came. A puzzled frown tugged at the corners of his mouth. He pulled his hand back and tried it again.