He chuckled. “I’m afraid you won’t have a choice.”
7
Hope held her tea in her hands, reflexively clutching it. She tried not to squeeze it hard enough to shatter the mug. She picked at the fruit that had been put in front of her. She knew if she didn’t, Nero would likely nag her into eating. Or worse. So, she poked at the food with her fork, eating a piece every few minutes.
And she was hungry. There was that, also.
And it was so very fresh and tasty.
But he had killed a man. I knew he was a murderer. I knew he was a killer. The stories couldn’t have all been lies. Why am I surprised?
“What would you like to do today, Hope?” Nero asked between bites of food. She could hear him talking with his mouth half-full. He had terrible manners. That might be endearing if he hadn’t just burnt a man alive. “I have a few meetings here this afternoon, but besides that, we can do whatever you want.”
“Do you expect your meetings will go like the one this morning?”
He hummed thoughtfully, seemingly missing the critique in her question. “No. I don’t think so. Roderick and Macio are generally friendly and loyal. It’s just to discuss the grain shipments heading to the north. The train lines need repairs. That’s all. I’d highly doubt I would need to roast either of them over a few extra drachmas going to their funds.”
She could hear the smile in his voice, and she tried not to cringe. This was clearly normal for him. This kind of violence was his every day. She hated to admit he was right about what he had told her earlier—she needed to adjust to this. She belonged to him now, for better or worse, and whether she liked it or not.
“How about we go swimming, hmm? Just you and me. Then I can give you a proper tour of my villa.” When she didn’t respond, he sighed heavily. “I’m trying very hard. I hope you know that.”
“I do. I appreciate it. I…that all sounds lovely. I’m sorry. You are right that I didn’t have much of an opportunity to step over dead bodies during my time at the temple. I’ll grow accustomed to it.”
“It doesn’t happen frequently. Well, too frequently. It’s not like it’s a daily event. Maybe every few months. It does tend to bunch up, though. When I find a viper’s nest, I clear it out, then I have a while before it builds up again.”
The way he said it was so matter-of-fact. So dismissive. “You were raised like this?”
“I was. Morten had Hugo and me split up when he took us. I was sent here and raised by the previous South Wind. Hugo was sent West, yadda, yadda, yadda.” He snickered. “Pompei was a far more violent man than I am, believe me. I look positively restrained next to him.”
She knew the stories. She had heard the legends. Pompei had died seven years ago, and Nero had taken over. The people loved Nero for his generosity, even if they feared him for his cruelty. But he was a drastic improvement over the reign of Pompei.
“I do say I got my love of beautiful women from him.” She heard Nero pick up a pitcher and fill a container. “Juice?”
“Yes, please, thank you.” She slid her cup toward him, careful not to let it bump into anything else.
“It’s impressive how well you can memorize where things are.” He filled her cup, and she pulled it back, lifting it to take a sip.
Fresh orange juice. The tea was nice, but the juice was amazing. He is a Cardinal. Why am I still surprised that he doesn’t live like a pauper?
“Thank you.” She smiled faintly. “I’ve been blind my whole life. It’s a skill I’ve learned over the years.”
“Were you born this way, or…?” He trailed off, as if not wanting to say it.
“Yes. There was no trauma. My parents didn’t blind me.” It was something people asked her frequently. “I have no dramatic story to tell, I’m afraid. My life, as I’ve said, has been quite boring.”
“Speaking of.” He touched her necklace where it hung around her neck. “I need to borrow this.”
She pulled the chain off over her head and held it out to him. It bothered her none to part with it. It was a crime punishable by death to steal the chain of a slave, and she knew Nero wouldn’t dare do anything of the sort.