Tangled Web (20 page)

24

Azurha stood perfectly still as Izana fussed over her stola, making sure it draped her body in a manner befitting an Empress. The admiration glowing from the girl’s dark brown eyes made Azurha’s stomach cringe. The slave probably thought that the promise of an Alpirion Empress meant her freedom would soon follow, but Azurha knew it was all a ruse.

“You must be very excited to accompany the emperor to the games this afternoon,” Izana murmured.

Annoyed would be a more appropriate word. She had planned on sneaking out of her Imperial cage while Titus and the rest of the Legion were away, but now she was not only being forced to attend the games with him, she was ordered to wear this ridiculous outfit, complete with a crown. If that didn’t raise the ire of the Deizian nobles, nothing would.

Izana brushed her fingers over her clothes and adjusted the golden belt around Azurha’s waist. “There. Now you are dressed to rival any of those noblewomen.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” a male voice said behind them. Azurha whirled around to find Titus watching her with his arms crossed, and an approving smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you look?”

He took her hand and led her to the full length mirror in his dressing room. Her breath caught when she saw her reflection. The glowing white linen stola peeked out from under the deep blue overdress, expertly gathered by the golden belt that cinched her waist. The effect it produced made her appear as tall and graceful as the statues of the goddesses that adorned the palace. Then her eyes travelled up to the sapphire studded tiara on her head. Izana had coiled her dark curls around it, holding it in place as if it was specially designed just for her. The woman in the mirror appeared poised and polished, a figure of gold and silk that embodied everything an Empress should be.

And yet, Azurha found it hard to believe it was her, especially when deep inside, she knew the evil that lurked in her soul. She was nothing more than a common-born slave who murdered people for the right price. She didn’t deserve to be elevated like this, and her reflection mocked her. Her scant breakfast rose into her throat. “I feel ill,” she whispered.

Titus wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek. “It’s just nerves. Trust me, I feel the same way. After tomorrow, we can place this coronation nonsense behind us and start making plans for what we want to do with the empire.”

The soothsayer’s words echoed in her mind once again, heightening her unease. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going to happen today, something that would force her to act in a way that could destroy everything she’d built with Titus. She glanced down at her hands and already saw the blood smearing them in her mind’s eye.

Someone would die today.

But who?

He slid his hands down her arms and covered hers. “You could rival any Empress that has come before you. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

Yes, I could snap the necks of those that try to take my place and dispose of them in a heartbeat
. The severity of her possessiveness surprised her. She knew better than to keep Titus for herself, but every time she imagined another woman taking her place, her thoughts turned murderous. That was the problem with her profession. Killing had becom
e second nature to her, and there seemed to be no way to leave it all behind. Her past would always haunt her as long as there were those who knew who the Rabbit was.

Her hand itched to reach for the dagger strapped to her inner thigh, to reassure herself that she could unsheathe it at a moment’s notice, but her mind preached caution. She’d managed to keep it concealed so far, even from Izana. No need to lose the element of surprise. She gritted her teeth and followed Titus out of his chambers and into the waiting chariot.

They rode in silence until the coliseum came into view. Titus grazed her thigh, his hand coming dangerously close to the dagger, and she flinched. By the gods, she’d never been this wound up before. But then, there was never this much at stake before, either. If she failed, they’d both die. But if she succeeded…

I refuse to lose my head in thoughts of what can never be.

Titus retreated to his corner of the carriage. “What is it, Azurha? What has brought this change in you? Are you angry at me?”

She mentally scrambled for some petty reason. Anything was better than the truth. “Why are you trying to get me with child?”

He chuckled. “I thought that was obvious. I’ve told you before that I can’t imagine anyone else as my Empress. That includes being the mother of my children.”

“If you think a child will change my mind—”

“I do not believe you are so cold-hearted as to abandon your child.”

Her stomach dropped into the pit of her gut, landing with a dull thud. She’d grown up never knowing her real parents. Her master had bought her before she had been able to fend for herself, and she survived only because the other slaves like Ramina had taken pity on her. Could she do the same to her own child?

She shook the morose thoughts from her mind and replaced them with the steely exterior that had served her so well during her years as an assassin.
Do not get emotionally involved,
Cassius had warned her on her first day of training
. Emotions cloud your judgment and make you hesitate.
“Why do you wish to complicate matters further with a child your peers will not even recognize due to his tainted blood?”

“Because he will be a symbol of the new empire.” He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. The plea in his eyes tore away at her defenses. “You and I, we can do great things, but only if we work together. I can’t do this alone.”

Her heart skipped a beat, and an ache formed deep in her chest. He sounded so earnest, she wanted to agree to his plan right then and there. What could they accomplish together? She squeezed his hand in return, letting some of the pain ease from her soul. No matter what she did, she couldn’t seem to make him hate her. Perhaps it was better that way. She’d leave him with happier memories of her instead. “Forgive me. Everything has changed so quickly that I haven’t had time to adjust to it all.”

“I understand.” He pulled her closer to him, his arm wrapping around her waist. The heat from his body flowed into her deepest recesses, but instead of lust, she felt something more blooming inside her. Even when grey strands streaked her hair, she’d probably feel this way in his arms. This had to be what love felt like, and the realization filled her mouth with bitterness.

“When my father died, I felt like I was adrift in a sea of chaos,” Titus continued. “I didn’t know how someone like me could ever replace him. He was a natural leader, an emperor who could lead men into battle and protect those within his realm. I was a man of books and dreams, not a warrior. Then I decided I didn’t have to be him. I could shape the empire into something new. Something better. Something far greater than my ancestors could ever imagine. I didn’t need to be confined by their rules and definitions, and neither should you.”

“But as emperor, you have that freedom to enforce those changes. I’m nothing more than an Alpirion who gained her freedom covered in her master’s blood.”

Her stark words had the desired effect. His grip on her hand loosened, but only for a second. Then he hugged her closer, forcing the air from her lungs with the fierceness of his embrace. “I swear in the name of all the gods that I will do all in my power to make sure no one suffers what you did.”

The growl in his voice stirred a new wave of love within her. She’d never had someone care if she was happy or sad, safe or in peril, alive or dead. And in truth, she was glad she’d always had to fend for herself. She was strong and independent. She’d taken the pain from her past and shaped it into something that sustained her over the years. Every time she killed, she drew upon the fear and determination she’d felt the first time she drew blood, but in the end, she was left feeling cold and empty.

Until now.

“I know you will,” she whispered and allowed herself to bathe in the warmth and security of his presence until they were forced to part.

As soon as Titus stepped out of the carriage, the crowds erupted in cheers. The deafening noise shook her focus, and she doubled her efforts to search the crowd for any signs of another assassin. The cold leather straps of her dagger’s sheath bit into her thigh. Its presence calmed her, and a grin curled her lips. She dared someone to try to harm Titus. They’d meet her blade before they drew their next breath.

“You seem on edge,” Titus whispered through clenched teeth. “Smile and wave to them. You should appear happy to be my consort.”

“Crowds make me nervous.” Especially when assassins were lurking around every corner.

But she did as she was told and followed him into the coliseum flanked by their protective cocoon of the Legion. The feeling of dozens of eyes upon her made her skin crawl. They were testing her, searching for her flaws, her weaknesses. They would tear her to shreds in a moment’s notice and leave her remains for the ravens to pick over. All because she wasn’t like them. She was a usurper, a former slave who held the coveted place in the emperor’s bed.

Titus squeezed her hand again and flashed a brilliant smile in her direction. Her pounding heart slowed. She held more than just a place in his bed. She held his heart.

They climbed the stairs to the Imperial box, and he led her to the seat on his right hand side—the Empress’s seat. She lowered herself into it as if the moment her bottom touched the gold-adorned chair, she’d be tossed into the gladiator’s ring like a condemned convict. To Titus’s left, his mother nodded approvingly, and some of her doubts eased. So far, one person accepted her in this role. How many more would follow?

Empress Horatia leaned over to Azurha. “You look lovely this morning. I’m pleased you chose to wear my gift.”

“It is a crown fit to grace an Empress, not a lowly consort like me.”

Horatia laughed. “I doubt you’ll remain a consort for long.”

The words echoed in her mind, followed by the soothsayer’s prophecy. Yes, after today, she’d no longer be Titus’s consort. She’d become his ghostly protector, a guardian restricted to the shadowy underbelly of the Deizian Empire. There she was the Rabbit, someone to be feared.

A man strode out to the middle of the dusty field and called the games to order. She almost rolled her eyes at the lavish praises he extolled on Titus as the new emperor. This form of pomp and ceremony grated on her nerves, although it gave her an opportunity to scan the crowd while they remained transfixed on the listing of the day’s events. A few of the Deizian nobles cast frowns in her direction, but Pontus was not among them. He was nowhere to be seen, and his absence made the hairs on the back of her neck rise. As a member of the Imperial family, she thought he would seize the opportunity to take his place near his cousin.

The crowd roared to life as the first two gladiators entered the ring, pulling her from her thoughts. The clang of the swords against shields echoed off the sandstone bricks of the coliseum and mesmerized the onlookers. The sun beat down on them, enhancing the metallic scent of the sweat and blood to the point it made Azurha’s stomach roll, but she continued to watch the powerful movements of the skilled combatants. To them, this wasn’t a game. It was a battle to the death, played out as much by their agonizing cries as the swings of the weapons.

The first gladiator fell, and the crowd applauded the victor as his opponent drew his last breaths. A group of slaves rushed into the ring to clear the loser’s body and cover up the blood stains, but it was mere gesture. The next two combatants would have seen the prior fight and would know what awaited them—victory or death.

A jolt of unease raced up Azurha’s spine, locking her body in place. Her eyes flickered across the crowd, wondering what caused it. She was just about to blame her hyper-vigilant nerves when she spotted him.

His face stood out from the sea of onlookers like a shining beacon. Her mentor. Her rock in those years of doubt following her freedom. The man who had turned her into the most skilled assassin in the empire.

Cassius
.

Only now, he was her enemy. Why else would he be clad in the uniform of the Legion? He stood at the edge of the Imperial box, a mere fifteen paces away. His hand wrapped around the hilt of his sword as he watched the second battle, but she knew his movements well enough. He was waiting for the perfect time to strike. When the crowd rose to cheer for the victor of this contest, he’d make his move under the cover of chaos.

Cassius leaned his head in her direction and locked gazes with her. A cruel smile darkened his face, confirming her suspicions and making her gut tighten into a tangled knot. There was no pity, no kindness in his expression. He was there to finish what she had failed to do, and when he was done, she would suffer the same fate as Titus.

“Azurha, what’s wrong? You look ill.”

Titus’s hand on her arm warmed her chilled flesh and pulled her attention away from Cassius. She debated telling him the truth, but once again her fear of being exposed for what she truly was tempered her honesty. “I never liked these types of games,” she lied. “The sight of blood…”

“Say no more. We shall leave.”

He started to rise from his seat, but she halted him with a touch. Cassius had vanished during the seconds of their conversation. He was lurking in the dark corners of the interior aisles, no doubt, waiting to spring on them the moment they left. That is, if she didn’t stop him first. “It would appear rude if you left the games held in your honor so quickly. I’ll just retreat out of the sun and cool off. I’m sure that’s all I need.”

She hurried out of the box before he could protest and slipped into the dimly lit interior corridor. Two members of the Legion stood guard at the entrance to the Imperial box, but neither one of them was Cassius. Otherwise, the area seemed abandoned at the height of the games. It provided the perfect opportunity to hunt her hunter.

Azurha slipped into an alcove and drew her poisoned dagger. The weight of the cool metal in her palm felt like an old friend, and the embossed rabbit on the hilt reminded her of who she was. She was the Rabbit, the best assassin the empire, and it was time Cassius learned that.