“Legatus,” Lucius said as he drew close. The familiarity in his voice made Lydia’s stomach drop. They knew each other. Knew each other, and … Her eyes flicked to the cisterns. Perhaps only twenty soldiers had voted—not enough to move the mark—but as she watched, the tokens in Lucius’s cistern shifted. And she knew.
“Lydia, darling,” Lucius said, and she cringed as his hand closed around her elbow, drawing her against him. “This is Legatus Marcus of the Thirty-Seventh Legion. Legatus, Lydia is my intended, and I’m sure you know of her father, Senator Valerius.”
“Senator,” the legatus said, inclining his head to Lydia’s father. Then his gaze turned on her. “Domina.”
His voice was cool. Polished. The product of officer training at Campus Lescendor. But all the manners in the world would not make up for what he had done. What he was doing even as they spoke.
“It appears your legion favors Lucius, Legatus,” she said. “Though I suppose that’s unsurprising given that he favors the legions.”
The young man’s blue-grey eyes seemed to measure her words, and then he said, “In my experience, men vote for the individual they perceive will act in their best interest. Only a few vote for the good of society, altruism being a rare quality.”
“Which sort of man are you, Legatus?” she asked, not caring when Lucius’s grip tightened painfully on her arm. “The sort who desires to save the world? Or to save himself?”
Something shifted in the soldier’s gaze, but before he could respond, Lydia’s father hauled on her arm, pulling her out of Lucius’s grip. “That’s enough, Lydia. Perhaps we might go inside out of the heat. Excuse us.”
“I am not overheated,” she hissed, trying to extract herself from her father’s grip but afraid if she pulled too hard he might topple over.
“Your temper certainly is.”
“And what of your temper, Father? Don’t you see what’s happening out there? They’re all voting for him.”
Dropping Lydia’s arm, her father wiped sweat from his brow before resting a hand against a column. “It’s their right, Lydia.”
“I know it’s their right.” Her words came out louder than she intended, and the men conversing in the cool hallways frowned. “But they’re all voting for him. Something about this is off. Why are they here at all? He’s tricked them or forced them. Lied to them. He’s—”
“Mind your tongue.” Her father’s voice was flat, a sure sign he was angry. “In the space of minutes, you insulted the future consul as well as the legatus of the blasted Thirty-Seventh Legion. Did you stop to consider there might be consequences to that?”
“I hardly think the legatus is going to order his men to burn me alive on the steps to the Curia,” she replied, her tone withering.
But her father only gave her a weary shake of his head. “You will stand here and remain silent,” he said. “Or you will be sent home.”
Scowling, she gave a sharp nod, though she knew it would take all her willpower to keep her tongue in check.
A veritable crowd of senators and their hangers-on had grown in the shade of the building, all of them drawn by the sound of the marching soldiers and the rumor that the most infamous legion in service was turning the tide of the election. There had long been speculation as to why the Thirty-Seventh had been recalled from Chersome. No one seemed to know exactly who had arranged for them to return to Celendrial, but the answer to that question seemed abundantly obvious.
Now speculation turned to what Lucius would do with his apparent alliance with Legatus Marcus, what it meant for his policies and plans. Such alliances between influential commanders and consuls had occurred in the past, but they were typically tied to a military campaign. Except there was nowhere left to conquer. No one left to subdue. Which begged the question of what the legatus had to gain from putting Lucius in power.
In numb silence, Lydia listened to a dozen or more theories, but as the sun began to set in the west she eased back outside, keeping to the shadow of a column as she watched the lines of legionnaires efficiently trooping through the voting pavilion, Lucius’s cistern filling while those of the other candidates remained unchanged. No other voters entered the Forum, not with this legion’s ranks filling it, and with the polls closing at sundown, any citizen in the city who’d yet to vote would have lost the opportunity. Lucius had won the consulship. Lucius