his ears. “Thank you. You’re right. I need to do this. I need to face this down. And I expect I’m going to need to get very, very drunk.”
“Can do. I’m already halfway there.”
“How long have you known?”
“Two hours.”
That was a relief. At least he hadn’t hidden it from her. She nodded, smiled, and reached out to trace her fingers over his cheek. “I love you, Nero.”
He kissed her. “Let’s get this over with.”
She took his hand and let him lead her from the pool through the atrium. All the while, her heart was pounding. It was hammering in her ears, almost deafening her. She thought she might faint. But Nero squeezed her hand and kept her grounded.
Him. The madman. Keeping her from fainting. It was almost worth a laugh, if she thought she could muster anywhere close to such a thing.
When they reached the atrium, she hugged his arm for a moment and kissed his bicep before she stepped away and let go of him. She needed to do this on her own. She needed to face this down without his shelter. She held her head high and waited.
She would make them speak first. Her life as a slave was their fault.
“It is so wonderful to see you again, Hope.”
Something in her heart seized. Hitched and nearly stopped.
She took a step back.
No.
“Mother Arkhiereus…?”
Nero watched all the color drain out of Hope’s face at the sound of the head of the Temple of Hera’s voice. The old bitch had no idea why she had been brought here. But the wrinkly old coot walked up to Hope, smiling broadly, missing the look of sheer horror on his fiancée’s face.
Before the old woman could take Hope’s hands, he stopped her by grabbing her upper arm. None too gently, either. But he didn’t give a fuck. “Sidonia. You’re not here for pleasant news.”
“I thought this was about your pending nuptials.”
He narrowed his eyes. “No.”
“I…I’m afraid I don’t understand the meaning of this, then.”
He took the paper out from his coat and held it out to her. “Take it. Read it.”
Sidonia did as he commanded. She sputtered. “This is all lies! This isn’t true—”
“Look at me, old woman.”
And like an abject fool, she did. He caught her in his orange eye. Caught her in his hypnotism. It was so easy to do. It was just like reaching into someone’s mind and flipping on a light switch. “Tell the truth, you cunt.”
“I…”
She was stronger-willed than he gave her credit for. He pushed harder. “Tell. The truth. Did you sell Hope into slavery?”
Then came the answer he knew was the truth—but also had to be a lie at the same time. “No.”
He furrowed his brow. “What?”
“I didn’t sell her.” The old woman was trembling, caught still in the web of his hypnotism. Her voice sound faraway and faint, coming from somewhere deep in her soul as if she were dreaming. “I just bought the necklace with temple money.”
Hope staggered back. She leaned on a column for support, pressing her hands against the stone. “You can’t mean to say that…”
Nero released the old woman. The damage was done now. She cringed, put her wrinkly hands to her face, and shook her head. She looked at Hope with such regret, such shame, that he knew she was telling the truth.
“You aren’t a slave, Hope…my poor, dear Hope. Don’t you understand? I wasn’t ever supposed to have you. I…I meant to give you away once you were born. But once I saw you, I—I had to keep you—so I hid you the only way I could imagine.” Sidonia was crying now.
Nero snarled in rage and snatched her up by the front of her robes and shook her hard. “You rancid cunt! Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”
“Stop—” Hope’s strained voice interrupted him. “Stop, Nero. Don’t hurt her.”
He growled but obeyed, dropping the old woman who landed in a heap of robes on the ground. She might have gotten there with a bit of a shove, but who was counting? Hope couldn’t see; she couldn’t tell.
“You…I’m…” Hope shook her head. “The whole time…”
“You’re my daughter, Hope.”
“And my father?”
“I don’t know.” Sidonia paused. “I was invited to a Bacchanalia. I had never been before, and…it was taboo for me to go as a priestess, but…I went, and…”
Nero laughed hard. “Oh. Oh, that’s rich!”
Hope beat him to it. “I was conceived at an event where there were too many options for you to know the father. You were shamed to