Page 7 of The Sorcerer of Shadowholde

He had deftly pulled her away from his group of friends, not wanting any chance of them spoiling things. They talked for what felt like hours, huddled together for warmth until Mariana dragged her away. Verian would always remember that last sweet smile she gave him as she followed her guardian back to the festivities.

“Whatever you do, Vita deserves to be treated well. She’s a good person,” Verian said, his voice low.

There had been many moments over the course of his friendship with Vita where he had considered sharing his true feelings with her. The time when they ran from the tavern hand in hand after being chased out for underage drinking, laughing uncontrollably. Thatsummer day when they had laid by the river, making up a fairy story as Vita furiously scribbled it down in her notebook. When she came to him crying, the angry slash of her employer still raw on her cheek.

So many moments where he could have spoken the truth, told her how important she was to him, how much he adored her. But he never did.

Vita deserved better than him.

Verian didn’t want to be a lowly city guard forever. He hoped to work his way up to centurion, though that meant he could never marry. He read so many of Vita’s stories, knew that she wanted a full life with a partner she could always rely on, and that couldn’t be him. It pained him, but it was the way things had to be.

She had given him hints; the way she hooded her eyes when she gazed at him, the way she bit her lower lip as she glanced at his mouth. Gods, those sweet looks made his chest flutter, his cock stiffen in his pants. All signs he’d initially considered part of her normal flirty demeanor until he realized it went deeper than that.

Vita would have been happy to fall into bed with him, he was certain, but he wouldn’t do that to her. She wanted more than he could give. He’d have to settle for the women he met at the tavern, women who wanted a night of fun and nothing more.

Drusus clapped him on the back, returning Verian to the reality of the dining hall.

“I treat every girl well,” he said with a smirk, and Verian’s stomach soured. Drusus nudged him in the ribs with his elbow. “Ad Noctua tonight?”

Verian rolled his eyes, but nodded.

Anything to take his mind off Vita.

CHAPTER 4

Vita

THIS WAS ONLY THE second time Vita had ridden in a cart, and she hated it just as much as the first. She sat across from Praetor Amulius, who hadn’t taken his eyes off her as the bumpy streets jostled them, his wife wedged tightly beside her.

Vita guessed she should be grateful.

Domina Amulius had kindly loaned her one of her old dresses, though she was certain it was the Praetor who had forced her to do so. Regardless, it was gorgeous, lovelier than anything Vita had ever worn, if scantier than she would have preferred.

The dress was silky, a deep shade of crimson that gathered to a point at her neck. A gold necklace held the top up, a matching belt cinching her waist. The dress had no sleeves or back, though shecarried a shawl around her shoulders, trying to cover herself as much as possible.

Vita’s wavy black hair hung down her back, coiled as neatly as she could manage. Rouge dotted her cheeks and shadow dusted her eyelids, though there was nothing to be done about the ugly red scar. She avoided Amulius’ gaze as much as possible, the task difficult with the way he leered at her.

Walking would have been preferable, though that simply would not do for the Praetor and his wife.Andhis servant girl.

Vita’s excitement over the past week had turned sour, anxiety vibrating through her mind and body. She just hoped she could continue avoiding the Praetor’s fondling, like she had successfully done since the incident outside her door.

The Domina was stunning, her satin dress the perfect shade of eggplant. An almost-sheer bodice accentuated her waist, long sleeves draping over her thin arms. Blonde ringlets were piled on top of her head, bouncing with every jolt of the carriage.

The trip was short, though Vita was thoroughly dizzy once they arrived. A footman helped her down the steep steps of the cart and the warm evening enveloped her in its humid embrace.

Darkness had fully set in to the mountains beyond. The palace was lit up with countless torches and braziers, the white stone façade glowing with ethereal beauty.

“Are you going to be a good girl tonight?”

The voice reminded her of a hissing snake, as the Praetor creeped up beside her, the hair on her neck standing on end. She glanced at him, resisting an eye roll, and thought it best not to answer the question.

From any other man, the words might have titillated her, but not him.

He graciously took his wife’s arm and escorted her across the bridge, flanked by glowing torches. Vita grasped the Domina’s train, holding the silky fabric aloft as she followed them into the palace.

Domina Amulius had given all the servants the day off for the holiday, and Vita had gone into Shadowholde that morning with Rhea to observe the Aonalia festivities.

They had delivered small, sweet cakes to the temple, a traditional offering to the virgin Goddess. Vita had painstakingly collected water from the sacred spring—a necessity for the cakes—while Rhea had spent the morning baking them. The temple had buzzed with energy as women gave their offerings and sang praise to Aona.

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