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“I’m sorry.” The words are ripped from her mouth. I see her swallow once, twice, three times, trying to shove something else down. The magic hasn’t released its hold. “I’m sorry for hurting you and being…being a terrible mother,” she finally says. Tears prick her eyes. I wish those tears were for me, but I doubt it.

There is a place within me where my pain and anger toward Livia fester. Where they might continue to fester long after today. But for the first time in my life, I can walk out of this house and leave her behind entirely. That is my sincerest wish—to never see her again, for her to become a memory and nothing more.

I move to her as though in a trance, crouching an arm span from where she lies.

“I’m leaving,” I say. “And I’m never coming back.”

Livia flinches.

Straightening, I cross over to Memnon, the gaping stares of my groom and his father pricking at my skin.

Memnon glances at his men, who have stoically watched this entire event unfold. “Ready the horses,” he says in Sarmatian.

“This, this is outrageous,” Titus says, but the words are spoken too softly to be a direct challenge.

Memnon’s attention shifts to the man until he shrinks back. Then the Sarmatian’s gaze flicks to the marriage document still resting on the table. He crosses over to it, the metal scales of hisarmor tinkling. His eyes rove over the text, and with a shock, I realize he can read.

He places his fingertips on the papyrus. A tiny blue plume of smoke is expelled from his hand, and as it curls against the document, fire sparks, then spreads.

“This wedding is called off,” he says as we all watch the papyrus burn.

The Sarmatian king’s eyes fall to mine, and they seem to smolder. “I have crossed rivers and kingdoms, I have fought armies and bandits to be here before you. For you are mine and I am yours, and those are my soul’s deepest truths.”

He reaches out, his palm extended in invitation. “Be mine before all the gods and live out your life as my queen and the ruler of my people,” he beseeches.

I draw in a shaky breath.This is the strangest proposal I have ever heard, I tell him silently.

Memnon smiles a little.

After a moment, I take his hand in my own. “Yes,” I say softly. “I will.”

CHAPTER 10

ROXILANA, 18 YEARS OLD

54 AD, Rome, Roman Empire

I don’t takea last look at the walls with their chipped green paint or meet the eyes of anyone else in that apartment. The only thing I concentrate on is the warmth of Memnon’s hand and placing one foot in front of the other. We step out into sunlight so sharp, I have to close my eyes against the glare, and for a moment, enveloped in that heat and light, I am filled with absurd joy.

Once my eyesight clears, I take in the gathering below. Most of the wedding guests have scattered; those who remain cling to the edges of the courtyard, watching with wary eyes the group of fearsome Sarmatians astride their horses.

Memnon leads me down the stairs and over to his men. Among them is a riderless horse adorned with a bridle made of intricately carved wood and gold. I slow as I take the beast in. I have never sat on a horse, let alone ridden one. I don’t know?—

Memnon grabs me by the waist and hoists me up onto the creature. I yelp a little as my backside hits the saddle, and I nearly slide off it. Before I can, Memnon’s magic is there,guiding me back into place. I marvel at the sight of it, at once both so similar to and so different from my own.

Memnon lifts himself into the saddle next, settling behind me.

I’m sitting sidesaddle when Memnon taps one of my thighs. “Little witch,” he whispers against my ear. “This leg needs to be on the other side of my steed.”

My face flushes. “Women don’t ride like that.”

“Romanwomen,” he corrects. “But you are to be aSarmatian, and our women sit astride their horses.”

After a brief hesitation, I try swinging my leg over as Memnon suggested. Only, it snags on my long bridal tunic, the fabric pulling taut against my leg.

Gods, but this is embarrassing.

Worse, people are still watching—his people, plus the horrified crowd of onlookers gathered around us; I even manage to look up at the second-story windows of the insula and see some neighbors staring down at me with unbridled curiosity.