Page 21 of City of Secrets and Shadows
“They were the only ones who chose to escape with me,” I said finally. “When the dragon broke free, everything was chaos. Most gladiators ran for the exits, but Septimus and Tarshi followed me. We’ve been traveling together ever since.”
“And now Marcus has found you,” Octavia said, a knowing gleam in her eye. “Quite the reunion.”
I felt heat rise to my cheeks. “It’s not like that, Tavi.”
“Isn’t it?” she asked lightly. “The way he looks at you hasn’t changed, you know. Like you hang the moon and stars.”
My heart stuttered. Did he still look at me that way? After everything? “It’s... complicated.”
Octavia laughed, the sound bright in the small room. “Oh, I can imagine. Two handsome men, both devoted to you in their way. Most women would envy your complication.”
“Septimus isn’t devoted to me,” I protested. “He tried to kill Tarshi before we even left the city!”
“Did he now?” Octavia raised an eyebrow. “And why would he do that, I wonder?”
I looked away, unable to meet her knowing gaze. "Like I said. It's complicated."
“Well,” she said, patting my knee, “you’ll have plenty of time to tell me all about these complications. For now, though, we should discuss your plan. This idea of posing as a noble to enter the trials.”
I latched onto the change of subject gratefully. “Do you think it could work?”
To my surprise, Octavia nodded thoughtfully. “With the right preparation, yes. Before I was sold to the ludus, I was a lady’s maid to a minor noble’s wife. I know how they speak, how they carry themselves. I could teach you.”
Hope flared in my chest. “You could? Truly?”
“It won’t be easy,” she warned. “Nobles are bred into their mannerisms from birth. You’ll need to learn everything from how to hold a fork to how to address people of different ranks. And your story will need to be flawless — where you’re from, your family history, why you’ve never appeared at court before.”
“I can do it,” I insisted. “I’m a quick learner.”
Octavia smiled, a hint of mischief in her expression. “That you are. And we have the advantage of aiming for a provincial noble— they’re expected to be a bit rough around the edges. We’ll say you’re from one of the eastern provinces. They’re remote enough that few in the capital would know every minor noble family there.”
My mind raced with possibilities. “A fifth child, perhaps? Less likely to be well-known.”
“Perfect,” Octavia agreed. “Fifth daughter of a minor house, raised in seclusion due to your mother’s early death and your father’s grief. Now that you’ve come of age, you’ve travelled to the capital to make your mark and honour your family name by joining the Dragon Elites.”
“That’s... actually quite good,” I said, impressed.
She tossed her head with mock arrogance. “I didn’t spend three years listening to noble gossip for nothing. Now, we’ll need to secure appropriate clothing, documentation, perhaps a servant or two to accompany you.”
“I have the gold for it,” I said, thinking of Marcus’s generous gift. “And we have time — the trials aren’t for another month.”
“A month to turn a gladiator into a noblewoman,” Octavia mused. “It will be a challenge, but not impossible.”
A knock at the bedroom door interrupted our planning. “Everything alright in there?” Marcus’s voice called. “We’ve sorted out sleeping arrangements if you’d like to join us for a late meal.”
Octavia and I exchanged a glance, both of us suddenly aware of how long we’d been sequestered away. “Coming!” she called back, then lowered her voice to add, “We’ll continue this tomorrow. For now, try to relax. You’re safe here.”
Safe. The word felt foreign, almost unrecognizable after so many weeks of constant vigilance. Was I really safe, even here? The Empire still hunted escaped gladiators. The Emperor still lived, unpunished for his crimes against my family. But lookingat Octavia’s warm smile, I allowed myself to believe it, if only for tonight.
We rejoined the men in the main room to find they’d set out a simple meal on the table — bread, cheese, dried meat, and a flask of watered wine. They’d arranged the sleeping area as well, with the couch designated for Marcus and bedrolls laid out for Tarshi and Septimus. I was relieved to see Tarshi had been given one, I had an idea that if it had been up to Septimus, Tarshi would have been sleeping in the hall on the hard floor.
“Not exactly the ludus dining hall,” Marcus said with a wry smile as we seated ourselves around the table.
“Thank the gods for that,” Septimus replied, tearing off a chunk of bread. “I don’t miss that slop they called food.”
“You ate it eagerly enough,” Tarshi remarked mildly, earning a glare from Septimus.
I tensed, expecting an argument, but to my surprise, Marcus laughed. “He’s not wrong, Septimus. You were always first in line on stew day.”
