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Yet something had set him apart from the rest to me.

Long ago, in another world, I lived a life that I thought couldn’t happen in Rorrim. Here, I believed, I could never again feel so helpless, or hopeless, or resigned to suffer. Now, however, flashes of all those feelings came back to me, reflected in Salas. His suffering resonated with recognition in my chest.

At the same time, Salas didn’t appear weak. He had stood on that platform like an oak tree in an open field weathering a storm, and I had a feeling that the storm he’d been battling was even bigger than even I could see. Yet he endured it, and that made him stronger than any storm that came his way.

I could never explain it all to Gem. She wouldn’t understand. Instead, I wetted my lips and said the first trivial thing I could think of, “For example, why is he not married?”

“Maybe he is?”

I shook my head. “If he had a wife, it’s highly unlikely he’d be a slave. All debts would be in her name not his. If she needed money, she would use her property as a collateral for a loan or work out a repayment arrangement with wages garnishment.”

Gem tapped her chin with her finger. “Maybe he’s a widower?”

“His wife’s family would’ve taken care of him after her passing. Or if there was no living female relative, he would’ve been directed to a widowers’ house, which is an esteemed charity establishment. There, he’d be working under the care and supervision of staff, keeping his freedom. With his size and strength, he could easily be a gladiator too.”

Gem huffed. “Not everyone can be a royal gladiator, Ari. One needs a character reference from a lady of the royal court, in addition to his talent, abilities, and skills. And even then, the games master can send him away packing. That woman isn’t easy to please. Besides, maybe he didn’t want to become a gladiator at all. Gladiators fight in the arena, risking their limbs and lives.”

“You know he isn’t afraid of a fight.”

“Well, maybe that’s where his problem lies? No one would hire a man of his size when he’s known to be violent. He sold his freedom to pay off his debt. That’s how slavery usually works. Which could mean he’s a gambler too.”

I pushed my glasses up my nose in a gesture that was mostly just a habit. The frame fitted me perfectly, needing no adjustments.

“I don’t know, Gem. There is just something about him that breeds questions. Like in the way he speaks and holds himself. At some point, I got the feeling he might’ve been educated.”

Salas used his words to hide behind them, which I’d learned to do well myself.

“Education is useless for a man,” Gem dismissed. “For a slave, it would actually be a burden. But...” she perked up, her voice lifting, “I’m glad you like him.”

“Like him?” I stared at her incredulously. “I don’t know the man enough to either like or dislike him.”

“But I have a feeling you may want to get to know him a little bit moreintimately.” She smiled slyly.

I ran a hand over my hair and said nothing because Gem wasn’t entirely wrong. I had questions about Salas. I wondered about his past. But I also knew that nothing good could come of us getting closer in any capacity. He must know it, too, judging by how eager he seemed to escape my company.

Gem pulled her chair closer to mine and leaned forward. “I’ll tell you what. Instead of going to the theater, why don’t I ride to the city and talk to his owner?”

“About what?”

“About letting him off work for a day or two, so I can bring him to your bedroom for a visit. Very discreetly, of course.” I drew in a breath, but Gem grabbed my hand, not giving me a chance to voice an argument. “Listen, I’ve noticed how you look at each other. You let him hold your hand, for Goddess’ sake. I’ve never seen you holding hands with a man before.”

“It was just a random touch.” I jerked my hand away from her.

“There was nothing random in how long it lasted. He didn’t seem to mind it, either.”

Gem darted a glance over my shoulder, where the bricklayers must’ve returned to their work. I couldn’t see them while sitting with my back to the garden, but I assumed Salas would be working with them again, probably carrying another load of bricks on his mangled back.

“We’ll clean him up for you,” Gem said. “I’m sure he’s handsome under all that dust and scruff.”

“It would help if his back was healed,” I replied quickly.

“True.” Gem curled her lips, cringing. “You don’t want him to stain your sheets with blood.”

I didn’t care about the sheets, but Gem didn’t need to know that.

“He’ll never heal if he keeps working like that,” I pointed out.

“Maybe, but we can’t tell his owner how to run her business. If she feels he’s fit for work, she’s within her rights to make him work.”