I'm limping as I make my way up there. Naia has done her best but it will still take me time to fully recover. By the time I reach Ravenna’s door, I need to lean against it while I knock. I'm almost surprised when she answers it herself, since I'm half expecting a servant to open it for her. But I guess there are limits to what even she can achieve here in terms of decadence.
Not many limits though, I suspect. The intoxicating scents of incense hit me as I stand there, and I can see that everyone within is dressed in finery I cannot hope to match.
“Lyra,” she says as she sees me. “I heard about what happened. Are you all right?”
She is wearing a dress of midnight blue this evening, slit high up one side. She has jeweled slippers on her feet rather thanthe sandals I am wearing. The room beyond her is draped in silks, while there is a long table set between some of the couches there, with various nobles lounging on them. Some are noble gladiators, while others appear merely to be visitors, without the gladiators’ marks we have.
“I’m… not sure,” I admit.
“Come in,” Ravenna says. “I should have thought to send a dress for you, but maybe this is better. People should seeyou, not some dressed up version I create.”
She gives me her arm, leading me into the room and guiding me to a couch alongside her. It means that a young nobleman must give up his spot, but he seems happy enough to do so. He is a few years older than either myself or Ravenna, with a short dark beard and spiked dark hair. I’m surprised to see a gladiator’s mark on his shoulder, and it is a complete one, the full five stripes crossing it.
“Lyra, may I introduce Oberon Cassis?” she says. “Oberon used to fight in the games. These days, he is as respected a noble as any.”
“Respected may be putting it a little strongly, Ravenna,” he says, in a voice that drips like honey. “After all, I do so little that is respectable.”
“Promises, promises,” Ravenna replies, guiding me to sit beside her. She gestures to the others there. “Some of those here, I’m sure you’ll recognize. Others either made their way through the Colosseum before your time, or have never chosen to take part.”
At least they got the choice, which is more than I did. I can see some of them staring at me as if trying to work out why I'm here. Others seem pleased by my presence, Oberon included.
“Tell me, Lyra,” a highborn gladiator asks me. She is wearing a gossamer dress that barely seems to be there, her red hair piled high. I think she has some control over fire, although shehas never deigned to speak to me for long enough for me to find out. "What is Lady Elara’s interest in you?Pleasetell us that it's everything the rumors claim.”
“She is just interested in my powers,” I say, resisting the urge to blush. “I think she's interested in making sure I achieve everything I can in the games.”
“And why would a noble be interested in a gladiator for those reasons?” the woman asks.
“Oh, ignore Portia,” Ravenna says. “She's just upset because she's only just realized she doesn't have to sleep with every patron she meets.”
Portia shoots a venomous look Ravenna’s way, but then laughs. “Frankly I'm shocked you know that, Ravenna.”
Ravenna shrugs. “If there's a chance that we die during the games, shouldn't we all seize life while we can?”
She passes me a goblet of spiced wine. I sip it slowly.
“Now, Grantulus,” Ravenna says, turning her attention to one of the nobles who doesn't possess a gladiator's mark. “We're all interrupting you. You were telling us about the sudden shift in your shipping interests.”
The noble starts to go on about the price of crops in different parts of the empire, the costs of transportation, and the trouble of getting people to protect his ships from pirates.
“Well in that case maybe you're in the right place,” Ravenna says. “Because Oberon here has many skilled fighters at his disposal.”
“You mean he hires out mercenaries,” Portia retorts. Again, everyone laughs as if it's a joke and not a pointed jibe at someone else's expense.
One of them picks up a lyre, starting to play and reciting verses about the heads of the various noble houses. Again, the noble gladiators seem to find it all outrageously funny. I’m mostly just starting to feel as though I should leave.
Ravenna touches my arm softly. “Don’t go,” she whispers.
I frown at her. “Are you reading my thoughts?”
“Just the tension in your body. You look as if you’re about to step into the arena to face a foe.”
“I don’t even understand what’s going on here,” I whisper to her.
She leans closer to me. “Oh, that’s easy. These are the sons and daughters of some of the most influential people in Aetheria, which means they are close to the most influential people in the world. Some of them like one another, some of them have petty rivalries, and a couple of their families have been unofficially at war for a generation after someone’s mother ran off with someone’s uncle.”
“I still don’t understand the point of all of this,” I say.
Ravenna puts an arm around me. It must look as though she's confiding intimate secrets to me. In a lot of ways she is.