Page 124 of Of Love and Treason
Titus touched her shoulder. “Iris.”
“Don’ttouch me.” Venom laced her words as she snapped straight and shoved him backward. “How could you do that? How could you make me look at what you’ve done?” She clapped her hands over her face, sobs rising from somewhere so deep in her body, the moment between the sob and her next breath felt infinite. The crush of the crowd afforded a privacy they would not have had otherwise.
He took a step toward her, touched her shoulder again. “I’m sorry, really—”
She slapped his hand away and slammed a fist into his chest. He wore his leather breastplate beneath his tunic. The sharp pain made her angrier.
“Iris.” He caught her other wrist as she swung for him, tears and anger blurring her vision.
“Let me go!”
“You’re drawing attention—” Her fist connected with his jaw. The people near them gave a wider berth to the woman assaulting a Praetorian Guard. No one wanted to be near the consequences of that. Iris hit him again, then sagged against the Ludus sobbing, energy spent.
“We should go.” Titus frowned at the thickening crowd.
“Make way!” A shout barked through the noise and others joined in. “Make way for the Lupercai!”
The shoving of the crowd grew worse now, forcing them to stay pressed against the Ludus or be crushed. Someone stepped on her foot, shooting pain through her toes. Tears stung her eyes, nothing to what Valentine must feel.
A path opened down the center of the street and everyone fought to be along the inner edge when the priests of Lupercal passed, brandishing long thongs of the sacrificial goatskins to lash any women nearby. A lashing meant good luck and a promise of fertility. The cheering crowds closed in behind the Lupercai, joining the procession as men rattling jars over their heads came next.
“Come, ladies!” The jar-men beckoned. “Write your names on a tile for a pairing with your Lupercalia lover!” The jars rattled with wooden tiles as the men shook them over their heads. Their efforts were immediately rewarded by a swarm of young women eager for men to draw their names out of the jar and be coupled off for the holiday.
The crush of the crowds eased. Iris slid down the side of the Ludus and sat in the dirt. She pulled her knees to her chest and dropped her forehead on top, blocking out the bare legs of men and swirling skirtsof women in their best sandals. She sensed Titus drop to a crouch beside her, but he didn’t reach for her again.
He took a deep breath as if to speak but didn’t as he let it out and drew in another. “I didn’t mean to capture him that night.”
She squeezed her eyes shut against the dimness created by her drawn-up knees. Did he expect her to believe that? She’d seen his face, his anger.
“I mean...” He faltered. “I wanted to—at first. When you said you loved him, I wanted to kill him.” The admission came out in a whisper.
Iris stilled.
He kept talking, pouring out the same story he’d told the morning he came to tell them Valentine had been arrested. This time, she listened in silence.
“I knew you’d never forgive me if I arrested him, and no matter howIfelt about him, your happiness means more to me than my loyalty to—” A swallow. “I tried to intercept him—I promise I did. But I wasn’t soon enough.”
She lifted her head. “Am I to believe you didn’t mean to beat him either? To burn his arms, tear out his nails? Were those accidents too?” The words came with a hard edge.
He pressed his lips together and looked away. “I’m sorry.”
“Well, I don’t—” She pushed to her feet. “I can’t forgive you, not—I don’t even want to look at you.” She wiped the back of her hand along her jaw and pulled the garish palla over her head, angling her face away from him. She’d trusted Titus, spoken highly of him to her friends, assured them he would help. And he’d betrayed them all—hermost of all. The anger had left a hollow in her, like Vesuvius, emptied of her molten rock. “Take me back.”
Titus walked beside her, until they entered the swell of the crowd again and she nearly lost him. He gripped her wrist then and, without looking at her, tugged her through the tiled plaza around the Flavian Amphitheatre where men selling tickets stood on barrels near the entrances, shouting to be heard over the noise of the crowd.
“I’ve got tickets for the afternoon gladiator matches!”
“Three tickets here for the morning beast hunts—all with a chance to win a hindquarter of beast!”
“Gladiator matches! Noon show included!”
“Watch a man wrestle a panther!”
Iris clamped her lips against the swells of nausea. Titus maneuvered them swiftly through the crowds until they broke free of them on the Via Flaminia.
“I can make it alone from here.” Iris shrugged out of his grip. “You’ve done enough.” The words came out more accusatory than she’d meant them to, but she didn’t apologize. That was for him to do.
“I leave tomorrow morning with the Ninth Minerva.” He crossed his arms. She felt his gaze on her but wouldn’t look up. “I don’t know if I’ll see you again so—”
