The Warrior's Bride Prize

‘Some money...and this.’ He gestured towards his gladius. ‘It belonged to my father.’

‘Oh... May I?’ He nodded and she reached out, curling her fingers gently around the hilt. ‘It looks valuable.’

‘It is.’ He cleared his throat. ‘It’s also the sword of a man who brought dishonour on his family, who was accused of cowardice, disobeying orders and inciting mutiny. Before you make a decision, you ought to know that Varro isn’t a name most people would choose to associate themselves with.’

She lifted her head to look at him, her fingers tightening around the hilt. He was telling her something painful, she realised, something important about himself before she gave him an answer. He was telling her about his family history under the assumption that there was nothing out of the ordinary about hers. Ironically, he was giving her a chance to say no. Surely she owed him the same? It was only fair that she told him about her mother, too.

‘In that case, there’s something I ought to tell you as well.’

‘I can’t offer you riches, Livia.’ He seemed to not hear her. ‘But I’ll be a good husband. A good father, too.’

She caught her breath at the words. A good father. Wasn’t that what she’d wanted most when she’d come north, a good father for her daughter? Providing a stable home for Julia was the most important thing of all. How could she risk telling Marius anything that might jeopardise that? After all, he was a Roman soldier facing a potential Caledonian rebellion. What if she told him about her heritage and he was horrified?

No, she decided, now was hardly the time to complicate matters with the truth. Besides, he hadn’t seemed to care about her being half-Briton, and as for her mother’s tribe and the rest of it...well, she could tell him all that after they were married...when she was ready...or perhaps never... Marius didn’t seem like the kind of man who’d tolerate blackmail, but surely there’d be no reason for Tarquinius to blackmail a centurion either. Her secret would be safe. Even if it felt wrong not to tell Marius, as if she were misjudging him again.

Yet, ironically, she wanted to tell him the truth. She wasn’t ashamed of her mother or her heritage. No matter how often Tarquinius had denounced her, she was still proud of her mother, a woman whose warmth and vibrancy had shone like a beacon in her early life. She could never be ashamed of anything connected with her. She wanted to tell Marius about her, to be as honest with him as he was being with her, but the habit of secrecy was so strong that she didn’t know where to start.

‘If you need time to consider...’

He seemed to interpret her silence as a refusal, starting to move backwards, but she tightened her grip on his gladius convulsively, stopping him from leaving.

‘No. There’s nothing to consider. I don’t care about your name, Marius. I don’t care about your father’s dishonour. If you’ll have me, then I’d be honoured to marry you.’

Chapter Twelve

The door to Nerva’s office was open. Which was a good thing, Marius thought, since his senses were so addled he might otherwise have walked straight into it. He’d just asked Livia to marry him and she’d accepted, though her exact words had taken him by surprise. She’d be honoured to marry him? Honoured? No one had been honoured to be connected with him since...ever. The very word sounded bizarre. He’d wanted to catch her up in his arms right then and there, but he’d felt as stunned as if he’d just been hit over the head.

So had she, apparently. He’d started his proposal off badly, almost disastrously, leading her to think first that he wanted money, then that he only wanted to sleep with her, though when he’d finally told her the truth she’d seemed equally shocked. It had taken her a few minutes to answer, long enough for him to wonder if he’d made a terrible mistake after all.

Then she’d said yes, though there hadn’t been time for him to say anything in response. Or if there had been, he’d been too dumbstruck to use it. He had a vague memory of Hermenia entering the courtyard a few seconds later, of Livia saying something that had made her smile, albeit somewhat over-brightly, and then of the two women leaving together.

At the last moment, Livia had looked back over her shoulder and he’d immediately regretted not having seized the opportunity to kiss her again. If his thoughts hadn’t been in so much turmoil, then he would have. He would have sealed their betrothal with a kiss like the one they’d shared the previous night, a real kiss, not a chaste peck on the cheek, only this time one that didn’t have to be clandestine. Because she was going to be his wife.

He felt a soaring sense of elation. She’d chosen him. Him, despite what he’d told her about his father, despite the fact that he had no money and probably not much of a future now either—not that the last part was necessarily true. He hadn’t surrendered his ambition. He still intended to win his promotion, even if he’d probably just made it a hundred times harder for himself with Scaevola as an enemy, only now he was going to achieve it with a wife at his side.

Livia. A woman he liked and admired, whom he’d desired from the first moment he’d seen her, who preferred him to a tribune. Despite everything, he couldn’t stop himself from smiling.

‘Sir.’ He walked up to the Legate’s desk with a spring in his step.

‘You’re looking pleased with yourself.’ Nerva’s voice was the one he normally reserved for formal occasions, distant and impersonal. ‘Can I assume that you were successful in your suit?’

‘Yes, sir. She’s agreed to marry me, sir.’

‘I see.’ The Legate slammed the tablet of wax he w

as holding down with a thud. ‘So, to be clear, after I dismissed you both last night, you and Scaevola took it into your heads to start gambling?’

‘It wasn’t intentional, but, yes, sir, something like that.’

‘I’ve just spoken to Pulex. His story matches yours.’

‘Didn’t you believe me, sir?’

‘Of course I believed you,’ Nerva snapped, ‘but if I’m going to make a report—and I’m going to have to make a report—I need to have witnesses. Fortunately, Pulex confirms everything you said when you dragged me out of bed so early this morning. No doubt Arvina and Drusus will do the same. I only have one question.’

‘Yes, sir?’

‘What the hell were you thinking, gambling over a woman?’