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I can’t marry this man. I can’t do it. I’m sure of it now that I’m touching him.

My gaze drifts to the doorway, and I fantasize about running straight out and not stopping until my legs gave out.

I could. It would ruin the reputations of everyone here, but I could do it.

Fear keeps my feet rooted in place.

Quadratus squeezes my hand, and when I glance at him, he gives me a reassuring smile, which makes this entire situation worse. Because I’m getting the impression that Quadratus is actually a good man. Maybe Livia deserves to have her reputation smeared, but I’m not sure my groom does.

The magistrate comes over to me and Quadratus. He nods to my groom, though he does not acknowledge me.

“I see you’ve found your bride,” the Roman official says, his gaze dropping to our joined hands.

Livia titters with nervous laughter as she and Titus gather close.

The magistrate clears his throat. “Let’s begin.”

Romans are big on omens. Good ones, bad ones—they dictate much of Roman life.

So when screams start up in the distance, I’m sure it’s an ill omen for this marriage.

Not that I’d ever been hopeful about this particular wedding.

The magistrate, who has been droning about the legal obligations of this union, now pauses as the rest of the room shares uneasy looks. An omen like this might be reason enough to postpone the wedding. My heart soars at the possibility.

But neither Livia nor Titus indicate that they want the proceedings to stop.

So the magistrate resumes speaking, even as the screams continue.

I listen to them, the sound raising the hairs on my forearms. In Rome, when people scream, there’s a good reason for it. Maybe an apartment tower has fallen, or a fire has broken out, or there’s violence in the streets. And perhaps it’s my imagination, but I swear the noise is getting closer.

“Daughter,” Livia says sharply.

I blink, realizing she’s been calling for me.

I clear my throat. “Yes…Mother?”

“Your vows,” she says slowly.

My vows? We’re already to that part?

Livia eyes me like she thinks I might run. And I feel it in my blood again, that driving need to cast off all these garments and flee this house and never look back.

My groom gives my hand another squeeze, and when I glance at him, his face is reassuring.

“Where you are…” Quadratus prompts me.

There I am.That’s how the vow goes. Short. Simple. All I need to do is utter those three words and the vows will be complete.

My skin pricks at the weight of everyone’s stares.

I clear my throat, ignoring the way my magic is beginning to leak out of me again.

The screams draw closer. Beneath them, I hear something else, something that grows louder and louder.

Hoofbeats.

My heart begins to pound, and excitement replaces fear. Could it be…