Without further thought, she bowled past Cyrus, pushing him aside.
As Cyrus stumbled, she lunged for Claudius, knocking the cup from his hand just as he lifted it to his lips.
The bronze chalice clattered to the floor, wine splattering across the colorful mosaic tiles.
Claudius lurched forward as if he would strike her for her clumsiness, but Cyrus called for him to stop, drawing his attention to the spilled contents. Claudius’ eyes narrowed then darkened at the puddle of wine beside him, that was slowly eating away at the tiles, a misty steam rising up from it.
What came after, Aurora decided belonged in one of the Greek dramas she’d once read. Claudius stood shaken and horrified, his gaze accusatory when it landed on Balbus.
The senator protested, blaming others within his house, but his shifting eyes and reddened cheeks weakened his claims.
What had promised to be a celebration that would commence well into the early morning ended abruptly, with Claudius Norbanus’ party the first to depart.
* * * *
“That is ridiculous. Why would Balbus Vibius wish you dead?”
“I do not know, Cornelia,” Claudius bellowed. “But you saw his face. He was guilty. My long time friend plots against me. He plots to kill me.”
Aurora stood beside Cyrus within the private outer chambers belonging to Claudius and Cornelia, as if they were invisible, waiting to be addressed.
Aurora did not mind. It afforded her the opportunity to study the features of the room, as she’d not had a chance to do so before. This was not where the couple slept, but where they spent their leisure time. Aurora observed the space searching for any hint that the door to a hidden passageway could be found inside.
Something caught her attention—the smooth indentions of perfect, symmetrical lines within one corner, mostly obscured by a decorative statue of the Roman god, Innus.
Aurora raised her brow at that.
The god of sexual intercourse?
Between the roaming eyes of both Claudius and Cornelia, she doubted he found favor within
these
chambers.
“That is foolishness,” Cornelia snapped, dragging Aurora back to the argument unfolding before her. “Did you not hear Aurora? She said she could not make out the person who poisoned your wine, only that she glimpsed someone hovering before your cups while she waited in the
atrium.
Do you not see, the very person who plots against you purposely put this upon Balbus so that you would do as you are doing now, blaming him, while the real culprit is still free to try to harm you again.”
Aurora stared at Cornelia with new eyes. When questioned of how she’d known Claudius’ cup was poisoned, the lie had spilled forth effortlessly, for the truth Aurora could not reveal. Cornelia was bold, recounting the blatant lie with ease. She was cunning. Cunning and
deadly
, Aurora amended, remembering Cornelia had also tried to murder
her.
“You could be right.”
Aurora could see that Claudius wavered now between his own inner convictions and the treacherous words of his wife.
“You know that I am. Balbus has been a good friend to us for a long time. We should apologize on the morrow.” Cornelia grasped his arm and started to lead Claudius toward their inner sanctum, but he stopped.
As if remembering Aurora and Cyrus still stood there, he said, “I wish to offer my gratitude to you both. If not for your actions, I would be dead.”
They nodded, though Aurora could feel the stiffness in her neck. Had it not been for
Cyrus’
interference she would have been gone from this place. Even if not by her hand, with Claudius dead, her duty would have been done. She sighed inwardly, cursing him yet again.
“I wish to honor you for what you have done. Whatever you desire, if it is within my means you shall have it—
denarii
, private chambers, wine. —”
“Thank you
dominus
, you honor us,” replied Cyrus. “But we require no tribute, we live to serve you.”
Outraged, Aurora speared Cyrus with her gaze, and before she could stop herself she blurted, “You do not speak for me.”
Her words plunged the room into freezing depths, and its occupants were struck with an uncomfortable silence at her outburst. It had been so long since others had spoken for her, since others had decided what she would eat, what she would wear, how she would talk even. She’d reacted poorly to Cyrus’ statement.
“My apologies for my hasty words
.
I only meant to say that I would like to have the rest of this eve to walk freely about the arena, to bathe without the hovering of guards.”
Claudius regarded her carefully. “That is all? You wish to train within the arena and then bathe without the shadow of the guards.” When she nodded, he shrugged. “I see no harm in that. The champions of my
ludus
shall walk freely about then.” A grin spread across his face. “With your performance this eve, and what you did for me after, I will extend to you this privilege for as long as you desire.”
Aurora bowed her head. “Thank you,
dominus.
”
She was dismissed after that, but she noticed Cyrus remained behind. For a moment, she pondered why, but she did not ponder long.
Without him shadowing her as effectively as one of Claudius’ soldiers, Aurora returned to the arena straight away.
The bluffs at the edge of the training arena held her attention as the light from the moon streamed out across the ridge. She studied the jagged rocks, the water beneath, brushing across the sand.
The vision before her—it was as beautiful as it was deadly.
It was also deceptive. She could not jump from such a height, while climbing down would take a great deal of time, and she would expend a great deal of effort in doing so.
Cyrus had been right. She could not use this route. When the time came to make her escape, she would have to leave by another way.
The angry thud of footsteps echoed behind her, and she turned just as Cyrus was entering the training arena.
The bluffs stood on the other end of arena, and Aurora had purposely clung to the shadows thinking if a guard walked past, she’d not want him to notice her standing upon the edge, scrutinizing a possible route of escape.
Masked by the darkness, Cyrus did not see her as he picked up one of the wooden short swords from a pile off to the side. He was normally very astute, his body seemingly synchronized to the sights and sounds all around him.
He’d told her little of his life before ending up in Capena, but he’d revealed he’d once been a soldier in the Thracian army. She suspected his military training was the reason why his senses were so heightened, and that he was always alert.
That he did not sense her presence revealed to Aurora he was gravely distracted.
That he now slashed his weapon through the air with an almost primal violence revealed to her just how angry he was as well.
Shrouded deep within the shadows, Aurora’s gaze trailed the light of the moon, its gentle rays caressing him as one would a lover. His body was graceful, fluid, as every muscle stretched and lengthened with each deadly strike of his sword.
Sparring alone, he fought his nameless, faceless opponent with intensity. His fervor, his passion; she imagined being the receiver of such gifts, his eyes gazing intently upon her, his rough, callused hands roaming her body, warm and gentle, firm and strong.
She began to tremble, a sultry, sensuous warmth whispering through her.
A faint gasp slipped past her lips, equal measures astonishment and desire, the dual emotions colliding with one another as they coursed within her. She’d never responded so fiercely to any man. She’d never watched another fight and had the simple beauty of his form mesmerize her, enthrall her, incite her inner longings.
This worried her—the unrelenting attraction between them that had ignited the moment they’d met. For the first time since she’d taken her oath, Aurora hesitated. What if he stood in her way, if he stood against her?
Cyrus.
The only man to see past her scars—all of them—even the ones forever branded into her soul. He was the only man to brave her walls and dare to touch the core of her, and in his eyes she’d glimpsed a future she could never have, but longed for nonetheless. Despite the ghosts still haunting her, the demons shadowing their every moment together, he still wanted her. If he stood in her way, her duty demanded she destroy this man who offered her tenderness and passion, even if it meant destroying herself.
His strikes grew more savage and sweat pearled on the golden planes of his bronzed skin, forcing her to stifle a needy sigh, as a deep, raw hunger stirred inside her belly. Though she’d never felt the press of his body, forging through the core of her, she was convinced he fought the way he made love—with focus, with raw, untamed passion.
Warmth pooled at the center of her body, until she was drenched in liquid heat, every part of her quivering and needy.
She moaned, drawing his attention and he stopped, their gazes clashing then locking. Aurora had revealed herself, and in her eyes she’d revealed the depths of her desires. She could hide no longer, not from him, and certainly not from the carnal passion scorching between them, so she stepped from the shadows, joining him in the center of the arena—the very place where this had all begun.
Silence stretched between them when she halted before him, her blood rushing through her veins.
His eyes narrowed upon her, accusatory, so when he finally spoke she was not surprised by his words and the vehemence of his voice.
“Who are you, and why did you come here?”
All she could do was lift a brow. How he’d arrived at that
particular
question, she did not know, and it did not matter. Whether or not he would
try
to stop her was the only matter of importance.
“How do you mean for me to answer that?”
“With the truth.”
“You know the truth,” she said quietly. The truth was whatever
he
believed, no matter if it was reality or fantasy.
“Do I?” He cast the wooden blade aside, his hand dragging through his hair. “I saw your face, the look you gave Cornelia. I know you had nothing to do with that plot because you were as surprised as I was when we witnessed her giving that vial to Balbus. But later, when you saw that I was going to stop Claudius from drinking, and then the lie you told of what you saw.” His eyes pierced her, then probed deep. “It is as if you want him dead just as much as Cornelia and Balbus.”
Aurora did not know if that was true. Her reasons were of duty. Theirs were personal. Cornelia and Balbus seemed to want Claudius dead
more
than she
.
A storm raged in Cyrus’ gaze, his blue eyes flashing gray with thunder clouds. She ached to touch him, to ease the lines upon his face. She wished she could seduce him, to distract him from his purpose. She could not do the former, because he would not welcome her touch in that moment, and she would not do the latter, because he would know the purpose of her seduction and her actions would only dishonor the genuine emotions she felt for him, what he felt for her.
“Did you reveal Cornelia to her husband?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because it is as you said at the Senator’s home when you tried to stop me. I would only make myself a target. Despite the unusual nature of their relationship, Claudius trusts her implicitly. I cannot say he would believe my claims of her guilt. And I do not wish to risk it, for if he did not believe me, somehow Cornelia would convince him that I was the threat.”
“You could still become her target, because you
are
a threat to
her.
She probably still plots against Claudius.”
He shrugged. “I have instructed him to remain vigilant at all times, but especially when it comes to his food and what he drinks.”
“So, she will find another way.”
“Is that what you would do?”
His question was spoken so directly it took her a moment to gather herself. “Why do you think I am here?” she asked him, her eyes little more than slits now. “That is what you want to know isn’t it? Who do you think I am, Cyrus? And why do you think I have come here?”
“I do not know.” That very statement seemed to torture him, as the words came out forced and uneven. She felt compassion for him, in his confusion at being torn between his desires and his duty. She felt empathy for him because she knew the conflicting emotions tearing at him. Aurora had never known such a feeling—until now.
“I think you do,” she said finally.
His touch was so unexpected that when he cupped her cheek, she nearly jerked in surprise. His eyes softened, and she noticed they were filled with a mixture of longing, tinged with sadness. “You will die if you plot against Claudius.”
Aurora did not know why that made her so angry. Maybe it was because he doubted her, underestimated her. Or maybe it was because she understood what his words meant for them both.
He would give his life to protect his
dominus,
and he would not hesitate in taking hers if she sought to harm Claudius
.
She drew away from him, missing the warmth of his hand immediately as she stared at it longingly when it curled at his side.