do.”
Octavia chuckled and walked over to sit down on the bed next to her. “I heard. Well, you should consider yourself lucky.”
“Why? He’s a violent lunatic and extremely promiscuous. He’ll rape me, and once he’s bored, he’ll kill me like all the rest.” Hope clenched her fists. “Do tell me how that makes me ‘lucky.’”
“I mean, well, um. I meant more that you’ve never been sold before. Most of us have. I’ve had six masters.”
“Seven. You’ve had seven.”
Octavia paused as if she were counting. “Seven. Right.” She giggled. “Seven.”
Octavia was a lovely girl. Not bright. But lovely. Hope smiled again. She didn’t much care if her friend was less than the most stellar student, she was a wonderful companion. “I know. At least I’ll only be sold twice. I doubt I’ll survive whatever fate Nero schemes up for me.”
“It won’t be so bad.” Octavia turned to face her and ran a hand up and down her back soothingly. “When I served the tibunus of the eighth legion, I wound up on my back all the time. He was handsome enough, and he knew what he was doing. But Nero is—you’ll enjoy him. If you let yourself.”
“Octavia. I am not going to ‘let myself’ enjoy anything of the sort.”
The girl sighed dreamily. “I would love to be sold to the South Wind. I wish you could see how handsome he is. Truly beautiful. The statues in the marketplaces don’t do him justice. I bet it’ll be much more exciting than being cooped up here in this musty old basement. He’s going to shower you with riches. I bet you’ll be his queen!”
“For a day. Or a night. As the case may be.”
“Then enjoy it, I say. A queen for a night is better than a slave for life. And that’s all you and I will ever be, eh?” She reached up and placed a kiss on Hope’s cheek.
Hope had to chuckle. It sounded sad and defeated. She was both. “I suppose.”
“Get some sleep. Might be the last time you have to sleep alone. I’ll see you off in the morning when the car comes for you.”
Have to sleep alone. She said it like it was a bad thing. She said it like sleeping alone wasn’t the better way to live. Now, Hope didn’t enjoy being lonely. But if her options were an empty bed for the rest of her life…or the South Wind?
She was pretty damn sure she’d pick the empty bed.
The bed wouldn’t set her on fire and string her burnt corpse up in the forum. She had never seen the grisly sight for herself, obviously, but others were eager to describe it in detail to her.
“Good night, Octavia.”
The other girl got up to leave. The door creaked open, and she hesitated. “He really is beautiful, Hope. There are legends about how good of a lover he is. If you’ve gotta be sold to somebody for pleasures of the flesh, hey…at least it’s him.”
“I suppose.”
Then, with a click of a door, the other girl was gone. Standing, she untied her robe and threw it aside, slipping on her sleeping gown. Making her way back to her bed, she lay down under the covers.
Reaching up over her head, she found a particular spot in the plaster that she had touched a thousand times. There was a crack in it, and she ran her fingers along it like she did every night. There was no reason for it. There was nothing important about it.
But it was part of her wall. And she had lived here since she was a little girl.
And now it was going to be gone. Or, rather, she was. It would belong to someone else now.
Taken away from her by Nero. The South Wind.
Her “master.”
At least she probably wasn’t going to live very long.
3
Nero lay awake all night, staring at the mural painted over his enormous bed. He was alone, which was rare for him. He wanted no one beside him tonight. He wanted no flesh to distract him.
For the first time in a long time, Nero was truly and fully alone.
It was overrated. No wonder celibate monks and hermits went insane. But suddenly, it felt wrong to fill his bed with bedfellows.
He was going to be married soon.
A priestess of Hera would probably look down upon a philandering fiancé. What with Hera’s relationship to Zeus and all. It was strange. He had thought it would be hard for him to not want to bury himself in his companions.