may try to erase the past to improve it—but in the South Wind Dominion, the past was embraced.
She loved to visit the ruins. History had a smell. Those places had a way about them that other places did not. They were fascinating—the stones, the columns, and the monuments to a sad, dead god who had abandoned his people when the old gods returned with a fiery vengeance.
Octavia sat next to her. “Beautiful day.”
“It is.”
The other woman slung her arm around Hope’s shoulders and hugged her to her side, resting her head against Hope’s. “I think it’s going to be okay. I think he’ll take wonderful care of you, and you’re going to be so happy. You’re going to go live with the Cardinal! He’s going to lavish on you everything you could have ever wanted.”
“And at what cost?” Hope sighed. “I don’t want to be a whore, Octavia. I know you have a hard time believing that.”
“I do, actually.” She laughed. “Oh, don’t give me that face.” She hugged Hope tighter. “Whatever you want, I bet he’ll give it to you.”
“That’s the problem, Octavia. I don’t want anything.”
“Now I know you’re kidding.” She paused as she considered something. “You’re serious? Nothing at all? What about…what about fame? Or fortune?”
“There’s nothing he could give me that I want. Nothing save my freedom, and I don’t think he’ll ever give me that.” She laughed sadly. “But what good is it anyway, even if I had it? Where would I go, what would I do? I can’t come back here. Not after…not after this. Not after Sidonia…” She stopped short of saying the word out loud. It was one thing to feel betrayed. But the Mother Arkhiereus had done nothing of the sort. She’d merely sold property to a willing buyer. It was simply a fact of life. What Hope thought about the subject didn’t matter.
“I know.” Octavia kissed her cheek. “I’m so sorry.”
“It isn’t your fault.”
“I’m still sorry.”
Hope smiled and reached out to find her hand and squeeze it gently. “And that’s why you’re my friend.”
The sound of a car pulling up and stopping sent a chill down her spine. She didn’t know for certain what it was, but when Octavia went stiff at her side, her hope that it was a taxi or some other, more innocent vehicle, were dashed. It must be the South Wind or his lackeys. She stood and slung her canvas bag over her shoulder.
Octavia turned Hope to face her and wrapped her arms tight around Hope in a hug. Hope returned the gesture and smiled, clutching the girl tightly. “I guess this is goodbye.”
“Come visit me, will you?” Octavia sighed. “Us slaves, we have to stick together, right?”
“That we do.” She reluctantly let go of the other girl and sighed. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
“That’s better. Now, buck up! This isn’t an execution.”
Isn’t it?
“Ms. Hope?” a woman’s voice called.
Nodding, she kissed Octavia on the forehead before walking toward the car and the waiting woman. “Here.”
“I can send someone for your bags.”
“No need. I only have this.” She shrugged one shoulder to indicate the canvas bag slung over it.
“Ah. Yes. Right. Please climb in, if you will. It’s time to go.” The woman’s voice was young, but not childish. She didn’t sound cruel, but not friendly either. Cautious, perhaps.
Nodding, Hope walked to the car. Reaching out, her bracer vibrated to tell her where the door was hinged open. She ran her hand along it. Sleek and smooth. It guided her to the opening in the side of the car, and she climbed inside. It smelled like leather.
Certain things had smells a normal person who relied on sight might not expect. History was one. Expensive things were another. Some things smelled like luxury. And this was one of those things. She reached out to find the seat, and, gliding her hand across smooth leather, she sat. It was plush and soft. It felt like nothing she had ever sat on before.
Someone settled onto the seat next to her. Someone heavier than she assumed the woman had been. But perhaps she was mistaken. When an arm slung around her shoulder, she knew her suspicion had been right. She locked up. She recognized it immediately. It was hard to forget. Strong. Hard. Too warm. And always seeming to be where it had no business being.
He hadn’t sent his lackeys.
“Hello again, sweetheart.”
Nero.
Why did she look so afraid?
Nero blinked, confused. He glanced over at Kema who sat across from him. She only