“Mi Dona, if we could speak in private—”
“It was found in your room,” Leona said. “Beneath your mattress. Now I see why you were so eager to aid Gannicus and his guards in their search. But tell me, noble Arkades, how comes it that my underclothes are found among your possessions?”
“Mi Dona, I—”
“And what is this?”
Leona held up a small phial of clear liquid, gleaming in the sunslight.
Arkades blinked. “I have never seen that before in my life.”
“It was found wrapped inside my underslip. Hidden among your little trove. Perfume, perhaps? Or a little liquor to make the nevernights easier?” Leona turned to Mia, held out the phial on her palm. “Crow?”
Glancing at Arkades, seeing the fear swelling inside him, Mia took the phial from the dona’s hands. Unstopping it, she sniffed, dabbed her finger and tasted, immediately spat once, twice. Lips curling as she looked to Leona.
“It’s Elegy, Domina. No question.”
Leona’s glare welled with tears as she looked at Arkades, lip trembling, her entire body shaking with rage.
“You.”
Horror welled in Arkades’s eyes. “Mi Dona, I would never…”
“Then how comes it to be in your room?” Leona demanded. “Wrapped in the underslip you stole from me? Or do you deny the keeping of that, too?”
“I do not deny it, I fou—”
“You have known me from a child, Arkades! I thought you a man of honor, who saw the righteousness of my cause. I thought your infatuation harmless, but now I see it turned to poison before my eyes.” She shook the silk in his face. “Now I see to the heart of you! Now I see the reason you have walked with me all these years!”
“Infatuation?” Arkades was pale, his voice trembling.
“How much does my father pay you?”
“… What?”
“How much?” she screamed. “Ever I wondered at the lions you wore on your doublet, the lion’s head on your cane. I thought it simple homage to where you’d been and who you were, but now I see it for truth! You were always his man! Always!”
Magistrae placed a gentle hand on her mistress’s shoulder. “Domina, please.”
Leona snarled, threw off the woman’s grip. “Did he promise me to you, perhaps? Some broken trophy to hide beneath your mattress with all your other dirty little secrets? You’d poison my flock, murder an eleven-year-old girl to have your way? After what he did to my mother? Smiling like a snake and offering me your comforts?”
Tears gleamed in Arkades’s eyes. “You think me capable…”
“I think you a liar,” Leona spat. “I think you a murderer. I think you a sad old man ruled by lust and accursed drink and memory of past glory gone wrong and rotten.” Leona dragged ragged breath through gritted teeth. “I think you every inch the bastard my father is. I want you out of my collegium.”
“Leona, I—”
“Get out!” Leona roared. “Or I swear by the Everseeing and all four of his Daughters, I will show you the mercy you showed the child on that pyre!”
The woman stood trembling, tears pouring down her cheeks. But her jaw was set, teeth bared in a snarl. Arkades hung like a broken mirror, chest heaving, his face pale. Looking among the gladiatii, he found only disdain and rage. He turned back to Leona, agony in his eyes, one final, desperate plea on his lips.
“Please—”
“GET OUT!” Leona screamed, launching herself at him and flailing with her fists. Scratching his face, clawing at his eyes. “GET OUT! GET OUT!”
Arkades staggered back, and Magistrae pulled the flailing, screaming Leona off him. The guards stepped forward to separate them, hands on their swords, glowering at the executus. Gannicus placed a hand on his chest and shoved him farther away, warning plain on his face. The captain obviously had no wish to draw, but the wishes of his mistress were clear, and the smell of that burning child hung heavy in the air.
Arkades looked around the yard and found no friends. Tears brimming in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but found no words to save him. He searched the faces of his former charges, and found none to vouch for him. Mia could see words struggling behind his teeth, but looking into Leona’s eyes, he found only hatred and rage. And with no other real choice, he turned and began limping for the gate.
“Take this!” Leona cried, flinging the slip at his back. “May it keep you warm in the nevernight!”
The executus paused, looking back over his shoulder. But without a word, he hung his head and simply kept walking. Mia watched him leave, uncertain what to think. Jealousy could drive a man to any lengths, and Arkades did still wear the lions of his former master on his chest. To discover the woman he so clearly loved was bedding Furian must have been an awful blow, and love could turn to cancer when watered with betrayal. But a part of Mia found it hard to believe he’d betray Leona so cruelly …
Leaning on her magistrae, the dona left the yard, still weeping. Mia looked to the pyre once more, watching the flames rise higher. Heat caressing her skin. Smoke kissing her tongue. So much in the balance. So close to the end. So much to risk before she got there, and so keen to arrive.
She couldn’t wait ’til this was all over.
“Goodbye, Maggot,” she whispered. “I’ll miss you.”
And she still couldn’t remember the last time she cried.
*
The bathhouse swirled with steam, the heat of it scalded her skin. Mia sank into the water with a sigh, the ache in her ribs soothed by the warmth. Slipping below the surface, she tried to shush her thoughts, silence her doubts and rage and enjoy a moment’s silence. For just a breath. Just a second.
Bryn entered the bathhouse, walking like she were sleeping. Her eyes were bloodshot, her cheeks red raw. Without looking at Mia, she stripped off her clothes and sank into the water, washing the tears from her skin. She stayed under almost a breath too long, Mia about to reach out toward her, when Bryn finally surfaced, sodden blond framing her face. Drifting to the corner, the girl sat still as stone, as a statue, as a corpse, staring at the ripples on the surface and saying nothing at all.
“A hard turn,” Mia said.
“Aye,” Bryn murmured.
“Domina spoke the service well.”
“Aye.”
“… How are you feeling?”
Bryn looked up a moment, eyes gaining focus.
“How do you think?” she whispered.
Mia hung her head, stared at the swirling steam.
“… Aye.”
Wavewaker trudged into the bathhouse, unwrapped the cloth from his waist. Mia couldn’t remember a single turn where they’d bathed together and the big man hadn’t gifted her a song, but Wavewaker didn’t hum a note this time. His uncharacteristic silence hung heavy in the air, sorrow welling in Mia’s chest. Thinking of the water fight they’d had, here with Byern, just a few weeks ago. Thinking of that little girl burning on that pyre, and all that had been lost along with her.