Page 15 of The Legionary Seduction (Roman Heirs #2)

V olusia’s heart felt about to burst as she looked down at Max’s sleeping face in her lap. Her thighs had long gone numb under the heavy weight of his head, but she didn’t dare move. He’d been running himself ragged for the past day and a half, all for her sake. He needed to sleep.

She had never imagined that someone would risk so much—and lose it—for her. Of course, Avitus would always have defended her if necessary, but that was a matter of honor. As his wife, she was his to protect. But Max wasn’t bound by honor or duty to defend her. In fact, his duty should have compelled him to follow Glabrio’s orders and stand aside.

She stroked a gentle finger along the line of his jaw, which was rough with stubble. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Max slept for about an hour, then woke in late afternoon. He removed himself from her lap hurriedly, as if embarrassed, and said nothing further. They roused Iris, and resumed their journey until darkness fell.

They walked for another full day, and rejoined the road, knowing the soldiers would be far enough ahead by this point that they’d be safe. The following day, they began to encounter some signs of civilization: fences erected to delineate land allotments, fields planted and animals grazing.

Volusia’s legs were heavy with fatigue, and her feet had never hurt so much. The straps of her sandals rubbed her skin raw, and their thin soles were no match for the rugged road. Her body ached from sleeping on the hard ground, and she’d acquired a varied collection of bruises and scrapes all over her skin. Despite her urgency to get back to Rome and reunite with Lucius, at this moment she longed for nothing more than a hot meal and soft bed. And hopefully a bath.

By midday, they entered the gates of a sizable town. Volusia recognized it as Genua, which she’d passed through with Avitus on the journey to Narbo. That journey felt like a lifetime ago, though it was barely two months past.

The first order of business was to convert some of her jewelry into coin so they could pay for food, lodging, and hopefully horses. They passed several shops and finally found one which sold embroidered cloth, jewelry, and some other trinkets.

Volusia had never tried to sell anything before, and wasn’t sure exactly how to go about it, but didn’t hesitate in removing her ruby and gold bracelet and laying it down on the table behind which the shopkeeper stood. “I would like to sell this, please.”

The shopkeeper, a wiry man with shrewd eyes, looked her over with an evaluating gaze which lingered on the incongruity of her dirty clothing and expensive jewelry. His gaze then moved to Max, who loomed at her elbow. Iris stood behind them, arms crossed over her chest.

The shopkeeper picked up the bracelet and inspected it. He laid it on a scale and stacked counterweights on the other side. “May I ask where you came by this piece, lady?”

Likely he thought it was stolen. “It was a gift from my husband, of course.”

The shopkeeper’s gaze returned to Max. “Is this your husband?”

She shook her head. “I’m a widow.” The words sent a pang through her.

Max rested his palms on the counter, leaning forward so his shoulders seemed even broader. “I’m merely responsible for the lady’s protection. And to see that she gets a fair price for her jewels.”

The shopkeeper finished weighing the bracelet. “My condolences on the loss of your husband, lady. This is a beautiful piece, but these stones are glass. I’ll give you thirty denarii for the gold.”

Volusia bristled. “Those are rubies, sir.”

The shopkeeper shrugged. “I’m sure that’s what your husband told you.”

He was trying to shortchange her, and she would not allow it. After all she had been through, a shifty shopkeeper would not stand in her way. “Max, give me your knife.”

Max removed his short blade from its sheath and handed it to her. She reversed her grip on it and brought the hilt smashing down onto one of the rubies as hard as she could. The table shuddered.

Volusia held up the unharmed bracelet. “If that had been glass, that stone would have shattered. But as you can see, there is not a scratch on it.”

The shopkeeper took the bracelet and inspected it, his mouth twisting into a frown.

“My husband paid six hundred for it, but I’m willing to part with it for five hundred, given that we have immediate need of the coin.” In truth, she had no idea how much Avitus had paid for the bracelet, but it was a good enough guess. “You can sell it to the right buyer for seven hundred, no doubt.” Luckily, Genua was a big enough town with plenty of trade going in and out that there would be a market for expensive goods such as this.

The man gave the bracelet another appraising glance, then a short nod. “All right. Five hundred.” He disappeared into a back room for a few moments, emerging with a small wooden box full of coins. He emptied the silver coins onto the scale, weighed them to the correct amount, then swept them into a leather sack, which he handed to Max.

“Wait,” Volusia said as Max turned to leave. “I want to sell these as well.” She removed the gold and pearl earrings that had somehow survived the ordeal and placed them on the counter.

“We have enough,” Max said in a low voice. “There’s no need to part with your earrings.”

Volusia cast a glance at Iris, lurking by the door to the shop. “I have another use in mind for the money.” The events of the past few days had renewed her thoughts of freeing Iris, and she didn’t want to send her off empty-handed.

The shopkeeper examined the earrings and this time, gave them a good price without having to haggle.

They took the money, gave him the jewelry, and left the shop.

“Are you sure it’s enough?” Volusia asked anxiously. She used to monitor the household accounts, so knew how much wine, food, or fabric cost, but had little concept of what something like a room at an inn or a horse would set them back.

Max hefted the bag of coin. “It will get us a room and some meals. And two decent horses, I’d say. We’ll have to take turns walking.”

That was enough. Volusia’s wrist and ears felt strangely light without the jewelry, but she would have traded the pieces a hundred times over for the certainty of a hot meal and a bed that wasn’t rocky dirt.

They found a tavern that looked clean enough, and Max handed over a handful of coins to secure a room upstairs, a vat of hot water for a bath, and a meal for the three of them.

They sat at a rickety table in the cramped dining room. The wooden stool was held together with twine, and the legs were uneven, but sitting on a chair after nothing but rocks and grass felt like the highest luxury.

A few other travelers eyed them curiously, no doubt wondering at their disheveled state. Despite all they had been through, Volusia couldn’t suppress a flush of embarrassment at appearing in public like this. She tried to comb her fingers through her hair and rub the dirt from her face. Max, for his part, seemed entirely unbothered, though she noticed that he did position his bulky frame to block her from view of the other travelers as much as possible.

The food that arrived consisted of lumpy porridge topped with a few paltry pieces of gristly, under-seasoned meat, with a pitcher of sour, watery wine on the side. They devoured every bite. The food that Max had foraged on their journey had kept them from starvation, but Volusia still felt as if she hadn’t eaten in days.

Once her belly was full, Volusia reached across the table to take Iris’s hand. “There’s something I’ve been thinking about these past few days.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t think you should return to Rome with us, Iris.”

Confusion flickered across Iris’s face. “What do you mean? Not—” Her mouth dropped open. “Please don’t sell me. I know you need the money for another horse, but—”

“Of course I’m not going to sell you!” Volusia squeezed her hand. “No, Iris, I want to free you. I know we discussed waiting until we reached Rome, but I’m afraid you’ll be dragged into all this mess. More than you already have been. If you return to Rome with me, you’ll be questioned once we bring these accusations against Petronax. I don’t want to risk that.”

Iris’s blue eyes darkened with grim understanding. Testimony from a slave was only deemed valid if extracted under torture, so by returning with Iris to Rome, Volusia would be condemning her to abuse of the cruelest kind.

“You’ve been such a good friend to me—better than I deserved.” A rush of emotion tightened Volusia’s throat. Iris had been her friend—sometimes her only one—for ten years. She had been there through the early days of marriage to Avitus. She’d held Volusia’s hand during childbirth. She’d listened to her frustrations as Avitus spent his nights with others. She’d helped soothe Lucius when he wouldn’t stop crying. She had been a constant, reliable, comforting presence.

But letting her go was the right thing to do, if Volusia cared at all for her. Volusia wiped away a tear with the back of her hand. “Maybe one day you’ll come back to Rome, and we can be true friends. But until then, you deserve to have your own life back.”

Iris squeezed her hand. “Thank you, mistress.”

Volusia withdrew the coins from the sale of the earrings and slid them across the table to Iris. “You deserve far more, but I hope these will help you on your journey. You’re of course welcome to stay with us for as long as you want. We have the room upstairs to rest in.”

Iris closed her fingers around the silver coins. “Thank you, mistress, but I think it’s best if I’m on my way. I saw a merchant heading back to Gaul when we were entering the town. If I hurry, I might be able to hitch a ride with him.”

“Oh. I see.” Volusia couldn’t help feeling a bit deflated that Iris was so quick to leave, but Iris was free now, and she owed Volusia nothing. She stood, and gave Iris a quick, tight hug. “May Mercury watch over you on your journey.”

Iris returned the embrace, her hands pressing into Volusia’s back. “Go with the gods, mistress,” she murmured, then pulled away. She tipped her chin at Max. “You. Keep an eye on her.”

Max nodded solemnly. “I’ll do my best.”

A few moments later, Iris was gone. Volusia sat back down at the table and stared mournfully at her empty plate. “I don’t think I’ve gone a day without seeing her since she came to me.”

“Since someone bought her for you, you mean,” Max said.

She glanced up to meet his gaze. “Iris was better off with me than she would have been anywhere else.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Max said. “But I think you did the right thing by freeing her.”

His approval warmed her even more than the food. “I hope her family welcomes her ba—” A jaw-cracking yawn overtook her, and a wave of exhaustion swept over her.

Max pushed his stool back and rose. “Come on, let’s find our bed.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and guided her through the maze of tables and chairs to the rickety staircase in the corner of the room.

Our bed . If she hadn’t been so exhausted, those words would have made her blush and shiver, no doubt. But for now, all she wanted to do in a bed with Max was sleep.