The Warrior's Bride Prize

‘The game. I won.’

‘Oh.’ She stared at him blankly. Did he expect her to congratulate him? ‘And you woke me to tell me that?’

‘No.’ His expression shifted to one she hadn’t seen there before, as if he were uncertain of himself. He seemed to be having trouble finding words. ‘There’s more...about Scaevola.’

‘Has something happened to him?’ She felt a fleeting, very fleeting, moment of concern. If he was hurt in some way then it would explain his absence. Although it might also postpone their wedding, she thought hopefully.

‘Not physically, but, yes, in a manner of speaking. He ran out of money.’

‘You mean he was gambling?’

He inclined his head and she rolled her eyes scornfully. Of course he’d been gambling and now he’d run out of funds again, just as he had in Lindum. She was amazed he’d had anything left to play with in the first place. Then she tensed as another thought struck her. Was that why Marius was there? Because Scaevola owed him money? Had he come to ask her to pay the debt? Her mouth turned dry at the thought. Surely that couldn’t be the reason he’d come to wake her and yet...what else could be so important?

She pulled her shoulders back, bracing herself for the worst. ‘If he’s indebted to you, then I’m afraid I can’t help. I don’t have any money of my own.’

He drew his brows together so sharply they met in a hard line in the middle. ‘I’m not here for money, Livia. Is that what you think of me?’ His gaze dropped to her mouth. ‘After last night?’

She tensed again as the low, intimate tone of his voice sent a frisson of excitement racing through her body, though she forced herself to ignore it. They shouldn’t talk about last night.

‘No. You’re right—I shouldn’t have said that. I just thought...’ She licked her lips, trying to put her confusion into words. ‘I don’t think of you like that, but why are you here, Marius? What’s so important about a game? Did Scaevola lose so much?’

‘Yes, but it’s not about money...’

‘Then what?’

He muttered an expletive before answering. ‘He staked you.’

‘What?’ Her body seemed to go into shock, though it took her brain a few seconds to catch up with the words.

‘He had no money left, so he staked you.’

‘In a game of tabula?’

‘Yes.’

‘You’re saying that he offered me as a prize?’

‘Yes.’

‘And that you won?’

‘Yes.’

‘So you won...me?’

The word fell like a stone into a river between them, a heavy splash followed by a series of small, yet equally powerful shock waves. Neither of them moved or made a sound, as if all of the air had been sucked out of the room suddenly. Which was impossible, she thought, since they were in a courtyard. It wasn’t even a room. There was no roof. There was air around and above them...

But Marius was still speaking, she realised, only she couldn’t make out the words. His lips appeared to be moving, but there was no sound, at least none that she could hear. She felt as if she were inside a bubble, isolated from everything except the vibrations of her own heartbeat, thudding against her chest like a drum. And then the shock waves ceased and the air seemed to pop suddenly and sound came back in a roaring torrent, bringing with it a tumult of anger and disappointment.

This time, she felt as if there was too much noise around her, as if every thought in her head were shouting and clamouring for attention all at once. Scaevola had staked her. That idea was outrageous enough, but what exactly did it mean? Since he couldn’t not marry her without facing some kind of retribution from Tarquinius, he couldn’t have staked her personally—which meant that it had to be something else that Marius had won, something that Scaevola himself didn’t want, but that other men might.

There was only one thing she could think of.

She clutched a hand to her belly, feeling as if she were about to start retching. Was this Scaevola’s idea of punishment for her pouring wine over his head? Or was it simply a glimpse of her future, being used as payment for her husband’s gambling debts? Either way, how could he demean her like this, whoring her out as if she were his possession to do with as he pleased? How could he still expect her to marry him after this? Even if he didn’t want her himself, how could he stoop so low? Worse still, how could Marius agree to it?

‘Livia?’

Marius reached out a hand towards her, but she staggered backwards, horrified by the thought that he’d actually colluded in the game. He’d played for her, treating her just as callously as Tarquinius and Scaevola had ever done! She would never have believed it of him, not unless the words had come from his own lips, which they just had. Were all men the same, then? Whatever their outward behaviour might suggest, were they all equally monsters underneath?