Page 34 of Firebird
I huffed in derision, not even bothering to reply, surveying the room as half-naked dancers began twirling along the paths between feasting tables. They all wore the golden slave collars stamped withIGNICULUS, their breasts bared, their skirts mere gossamer. Red-painted serpents wound around their bellies, backs, and between their breasts. They twirled to the soft tunes of the musicians playing the flute and tympanum in the corner.
“I heard a rumor about you, Julian,” said Ciprian, using my shortened name, which only close friends were allowed to do.
His face was objectively handsome, carved into sharper lines than most, like all aristocrats of the black and red dragon houses. But all I could see was the ugliness hiding within. Ciprian was a foul creature. No wonder my uncle liked him so much.
A woman in a green toga, the one Otho’s wife had greeted when she entered, plopped down next to Ciprian with a rumbling purr in her throat, a female dragon’s way of flirting. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close, his fingers teasing the side of her breast. She was obviously here with him, though he didn’t even bother to introduce her.
“What rumor is that?” I asked cavalierly, holding my goblet up for one of the servers to refill.
A pretty slave filled my cup, made a quick curtsy, and disappeared.Smart girl.It wouldn’t take long before things would get vulgar in here.
“I heard,” said Ciprian in a singsong sort of way that made his woman giggle, “that you shifted into your dragon on the battlefield and killed a man over a Celtic wench, then carried her away into the sky.”
I’d wondered who would bring this up first. It didn’t shock me that it was Ciprian. And she wasn’t Celtic, but I wasn’t going to correct him.
“What’s this? You shifted on the battlefield?” Igniculus asked me in disbelief. “Over a woman?”
Roman generals didn’t shift on the battlefield, not into half-skin or their dragon. It was considered a sign of weakness if they were forced to leave their human form during battle. They weren’t even supposed to get their blade bloody since that was the job of their soldiers.
“Yes, Caesar.” Ciprian laughed again. “That’s what I heard anyway.”
I remained unruffled as I’d been expecting this to come up at some point. “Your source is obviously addled in the head. And if I meet them, I’ll remove it for him.”
“What is the truth of the incident?” Caesar asked in a way that was a command, not a question.
I held his gaze steadily. “The truth is that one of my men disobeyed a direct order. And for that, I severed him in half.” I shrugged. “I could’ve done the same without shifting, but my dragon wanted his blood. And I wanted every man present to understand clearly the consequences of disobeying my orders and that my dragon would stand for nothing less than completeobedience.” My gaze shifted to Ciprian, who wasn’t laughing anymore. “That fucking rabble that Bastius left me is wholly undisciplined.” I swiveled my gaze back to my uncle, letting my dragon deepen my voice with promise. “They’ll obey me. Or they’ll die.”
Just as I suspected, my uncle grinned wide, that insane look of both bloodlust and pride mingling in his gaze as he leaned over and placed a hand on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze.
“That’s correct, nephew. You did the right thing. Use brutal forceto teach them the way.” Then he chuckled darkly. “By Dis, my blood certainly runs through your veins.”
We clinked goblets. Ciprian fumed since I’d stolen his moment. He’d thought to show me weak in front of my uncle. That wasn’t going to happen. Yet he still continued to try.
“So, you didn’t carry that witch off? The one who supposedly helped the Celts evade Bastius?”
“Oh, no. I took her. She’s quite the beauty,” I confirmed, having to give some reason for why I took her. “It’s the general’s prerogative to take the choicest spoils of war. But you wouldn’t know that,Prefect. You aren’t a general.”
His eyes filled full black with his dragon. He was itching to shift and claw me, which only made me smile and lift my goblet to him. It was improper etiquette to shift at the emperor’s palace. Only the emperor himself could do so.
Caesar tilted his head back and laughed uproariously. When he settled, he said, “Don’t worry, Ciprian. I believe you’ll be seeing a promotion soon enough.”
“Thank you, Caesar,” said Ciprian, now openly fondling the breast of his companion.
She didn’t seem to mind, drinking down her wine and watching the guests below us.
“That must be one sweet piece of Celtic cunt,” said Ciprian venomously.
Fury swirled like a snake in my belly. But I kept my face cold and impassive.
“Speaking of cunts.” Caesar glared at Otho sitting at the table directly across from us, the dancers swirling between us.
Why had that fool even come to this feast? After openly arguing against a law the emperor had wanted passed. And especially with his young wife.
“Otho!” called Caesar over the music. “What lovely creature have you brought as a guest?”
Otho stood with a smile, helping the brazen girl in purple to her feet. “Caesar, this is my new bride, Sabina Candida of the Amethystus.”
Caesar flicked a hand to summon her. “Come closer, Sabina.”
