couldn’t imagine sleeping in a place with open air, but it sounded fantastic.
Her life was going to be more comfortable here; that much was clear. Good food. Lavish rooms. She was certain Octavia was right—Nero would shower her with gifts if she wanted them.
But at what price?
“It isn’t like that. He’s not trying to make you his whore. I promise. He has all the lovers he could ever want. That isn’t what this is about.” Kema paused, as if debating whether she should say something. Hope didn’t push her. “He…he isn’t a good man, Hope. But he isn’t a monster. He doesn’t use people and throw them away unless he’s very clear about it from the start. He bought you because…because he wants to keep you.”
“Thank you. I appreciate your kindness, Kema.” She reached out for the woman to take her hand. When Kema took it, she squeezed it gently.
“I’d like us to be friends, Hope. I meant what I said. I like you a great deal.”
“And I you.”
“Goodnight.” Kema squeezed her hand back before letting her go and left the room. She heard the door click shut. Standing from the bed, she made her way to the dresser and opened the doors. She explored the contents and found it filled with clothing. Soft, silky things she would never have dreamed of owning.
She found something that felt like a nightgown. It was long, smooth, and thin. It was with the rest of a drawer of what contained underwear, so she assumed that was what it was for. Watch it be some terrible piece of lingerie and I have no idea. She laughed sadly at the mental image and, sighing, undressed and slipped it over her head and let it drape down over her.
It was easily the most expensive piece of clothing she had ever worn, thin as it was. She walked to the bed and climbed under the covers.
Taking off her bracers, she set them on the nightstand next to the bed. She let her fingers trace over its surface. It was smooth, carefully polished wood. She traced the routed detail along the edge.
Lying back into the pillows, she let out a puff of air. They were just as soft and wonderful as everything else. She had been happy with temple life. This all seemed like such a waste—such a needless expense. But it did feel wonderful, she had to admit. Reaching up over her head, she touched the spot where the crack in the wall had been for her entire life. She didn’t expect it to be there, but it was a pattern she couldn’t quite let go. Of course, plaster did not greet her. It was a headboard. There were delicate inlay patterns instead of an aged wall. She could feel the grooves. She followed them, wondering what kind of image they made. They curled and spiraled around each other. Vines, perhaps?
Her mind wandered to her new owner—her new master—as she traced the art. Nero was more than what she had expected. He was surprising. He was as salacious as she had heard—as incorrigible—but there was more to him. He humored her, at least for now. There was no telling when his patience would snap.
Her thoughts traced over what Kema had said to her.
He intends to keep me.
It wasn’t as though he could free her even if he wished to. A born slave was a slave for life. Even if Nero died and had no one to inherit her, she would return to the state as property and be auctioned off. Only contracted slaves could win or earn their freedom. But the way Kema had said it, she knew it was not the chain around her neck that she meant. It was something deeper than that.
Keep me.
But for what?
It wasn’t even breakfast yet.
It wasn’t even breakfast, and he’d already had to kill a man.
He hated Thursdays.
Nero sighed and nudged the burnt carcass at his feet. It was still smoldering. He wrinkled his nose as part of the man’s ribcage caved in, sending hot embers rolling across the floor. “Stupid, lousy piece of trash. Now you’re mucking up my floors.”
“What’s that smell?”
He blinked and turned. Oh. Oh, shit.
Right. Shit. Fuck.
Hope.
By the gods above and below, she looked beautiful. She was wearing a dress he had provided for her—a normal dress, not those silly temple robes. It was a beautiful green tone he had chosen to match her eyes. It fell around her curves in all the right ways. It