her. She kissed him again, one more time. It was gentle. She was trying to show him without words that in some strange way, she understood. That she knew what he was. That yes, it scared her…but maybe it was okay.
I’ve lost my mind.
As she walked back toward her room, she whistled. Brutus and Cassius bounded out from wherever they had been hiding from their master’s rage and hopped along beside her. “Who wants to go for a swim?”
“Boof!” came the deep-chested and excited reply as the two gigantic dogs tore off ahead of her toward the pool.
Hope sat in front of a mirror. She was told she was, anyway. She didn’t know why. It wasn’t like it mattered. It was a waste of glass for her to own one, but she supposed it came with the room. Kema had picked out her dress and was now doing up her hair and her makeup.
Both were things she never really bothered with. She knew people liked to dress up and look nice, but she had never cared.
Tonight was an exception. The Cardinals were coming to dinner, and the East Wind was bringing his new wife. That would be charming. To hear Nero tell the story, Viktor had basically kidnapped the girl from the battlefront and tortured her until she loved him. Kema told her a different story.
A little different, anyway. Rose wasn’t kidnapped, she had been a prisoner of war. And she hadn’t been tortured, but there was rumor of coercion. But Hope ignored the rumors and would judge them for herself when she met them.
“You look beautiful.” Kema was tucking a few strands of Hope’s hair into a comb at the back of her head. Most of her hair was still down, but she was told this was the fashion in Rome.
“Thank you. The dress is kind of uncomfortable.”
“Nero will love it, trust me.”
Hope laughed. “Are you trying to convince me to sleep with him, or dissuade me? I can never tell.”
Kema laughed with her. “Both. I want him to be happy. I want to beat him bloody half the time, but I love him like a brother. Well, like my brothers should have been.”
“So…you and he?”
“No. Never. Ugh. No, thank you. He’s not my style.” Kema curled another strand of Hope’s hair and began pinning it.
“What is his style?”
“Polished. Very polished. He’s…smooth. Too smooth for me. I like my men a bit more rugged. A bit rougher around the edges.”
“He’s smarmy, you mean.”
“Yes, that’s it exactly.” Kema chuckled. “Slicked-back hair, fancy suits, always with that grin on his face. He knows what he looks like, and he’s used to always getting what he wants.”
“I guess that’s why I’m afraid to give in.” Hope wondered for a moment if she really was pretty. Nero called her that all the time, but she had never bothered to wonder if she was attractive. It hadn’t ever mattered.
“You think that once the conqueror has come and gone—hah—” Kema paused to laugh at her bad pun, and Hope chuckled. “That he’ll get bored with you?”
“Yes.”
“No, sweetheart. You’re different. I see it in the way he acts around you. If he really was that way, he’d have burned down the city to have you the first time he saw you, then he’d walk away whistling. He isn’t a romancer. He almost started a war when he thought he was in love with Rose. But as soon as things didn’t go his way, he instantly got bored and gave up. He hasn’t spoken a word about her since. But you…you make him happy. I’ve never seen anybody do that before.”
“Really?”
“Really. I saw you two in the pool. Laughing and playing like children. It was the happiest I’ve ever seen him. He’s either angry, venting his frustrations on someone or another, or he’s loathing himself inside a bottle in a dark corner somewhere.”
Hope smiled faintly. It would be lovely to think he was telling her the truth.
“I don’t blame you for playing hard to get. I’d be worried if I were you, too. But once he sees you like this, there’s going to be no telling him no.” Kema finished with her hair and set down the brush she was using to smooth a few of her more unruly strands. “He’ll stand outside your bedroom door and paw at the wood like one of his dogs until you let him in.”
Hope chuckled. She could imagine that happening. It wasn’t an exaggeration.
The dress she was wearing was low