Page 40 of Black Sea

I looked away, overwhelmed by the noise, laughter, scents, and colors that made it hard to think clearly. “Amlach—”

He grabbed my chin with two fingers, generating a rattle between our shackles, and forced me to turn my attention back to him. “Do you still trust me or not?”

I got lost in his gaze, so furious, so mesmerizing, so good at working its way into me and making me doubt everything.

So good at making me feel vulnerable.

And mysteriously safe.

That’s when I realized that, just as I had protected him, Amlach had also looked after me in the best way he knew how.

“I do,” I said in one breath.

And I dreadfully understood that I would always trust him.

“Good,” he replied as quietly.

However, his expression became even more hostile as he moved his thumb toward my lower lip and . . .

“You two!”

Roxior’s old slave’s booming, raspy voice snapped us back to reality. I pulled away from Amlach with a move so sudden and forceful that the chain between us stretched with a crack.

“Don’t stay behind,” the woman scolded us.

I stared at Amlach, deeply upset by the earthquake of emotions shaking me. By the angry intensity with which he first watched the distance I had put back between us, then me.

He wanted me to get close to him again; I could read it in his eyes.

But before he could pull the chain again, I suddenly set out for our waiting group, dragging Amlach along with me.

23

Master Roxior’s house was situated east of the Rubra forum, close to the arena where the Games took place. It consisted of several light-colored buildings of various sizes, all featuring striking terracotta tile roofs.

We walked through the double main doors framed with red stones and crossed the porch supported by brick columns and flanked by two square towers.

The older slave instructed us to wait in the circular atrium, which led to the peristyle surrounding the central patio. She whispered something to the other woman, who then disappeared through a doorway on the left.

Shortly after, two servants emerged from the same door, both adorned with bronze collars and bracelets. The young woman smiled at the couple and their children, gesturing for them to follow her, while the man beckoned the boys with a crook of his finger.

When only Amlach and I remained, the stoic slave gazed at us for what felt like millennia. “I never expected the Master to buy a gladiator again—let alone two.” She slightly curled her upper lip in disappointment. “Therefore, your room will be ready tomorrow. If the Master wants you there,” she clarified.

“Thank you,” I replied with a gentle nod, for I suspected this woman was some matriarch to Roxior’s servants. “I’m sure any accommodation you can give us will be fine.”

Her face remained neutral. “Come on then.”

She spun on her heels and vanished through the doorway where the others had gone. I traded a quick, hesitant glance with Amlach. Then we went after her.

As we walked through the narrow corridors, we arrived at a large outer courtyard filled with sandy gravel. Surrounding this area were porticoed service buildings that housed the dormitories for guards and slaves, as well as kitchens, bread ovens, stables with haystacks and chicken coops, pantries, cellars, laundry facilities, and bathrooms.

There was such a buzz that, for a moment, I thought I was back at the market.

Some peasant women tended a vegetable garden with tomatoes, salad greens, potatoes, and carrots. Nearby, men were busy caring for a solitary apple tree beside the garden. Others were milking two cows in a small pen attached to the stables, while some fed the pigs in their enclosure. Meanwhile, a few individuals returned from the chicken coop with a basket full of eggs. Under the sun, sweat-drenched soldiers were training, and blacksmiths were inspecting the horses’ harnesses tied to the fence beneath a shed.

The matriarch marched through the crowded courtyard, ignoring the curious stares that followed us and the voices getting lower and lower.

I noticed that they all had copper collars and bracelets.