Michelle Styles - The Gladiator's Honor

His fingers curled around the doorframe, holding him there. He had never expected to discover her here, and had allowed his desire for her to overcome his reason. The depth of his reaction frightened him. It was impossible to ignore that he had feelings for the girl and wanted her to be his.

He grabbed his strigil and used the blade to scrape his skin clean for the second time that day. He wished he could discover a device to peel off the layers of his life and send him back to before, and he could lead his life spotless up to the point where he met Julia. Valens pressed down with the strigil , bringing his mind back to the present. His past had no meaning for him. He refused to remember it. He walked in the sandals of a gladiator now—who he had been had no bearing on who he was or who he could be. He had learnt that lesson and it had kept him alive.

He wished he held a status worthy of her. There was no denying the hardest part would be when her father married her off to another, but to offer now would mean punishment— for both of them.

He had no illusions about what would happen or about the double standards of Roman life. Roman matrons were for Romans only—in public, at any rate. Men might enjoy the company of slaves, but women never—Roman women must be kept pure for breeding more Romans.

He slammed the strigil down and angrily bathed his body in the cool water. The wetness enveloped and soothed him.

There was little point in railing against what could have been. He had to be sensible. The only way forward was to carry on with his plan. Should the gods favour him, he'd win the rudius; if not, he'd die trying. Either way, he'd regain the honour he needed.

Valens closed his eyes and allowed himself to dream about what could happen, if all went as planned. He built villas in the air, imagining Julia with two small boys clinging to her skirts as they lived together on his estate near Pompeü, far away from the frenzy of the arena. He dribbled water over his head and smiled at his fancy.

Then he pushed it away. All that could come after he had defeated Aquilia, after he had won the rudius and was a slave no longer.

Julia stood at the entrance to the dining room, waiting to have her feet washed by one of the servants. The last bang of the gong sounded, and even though she anticipated Valens would not be there, Julia had decided to wear her rose-coloured gap-sleeve gown. It could help explain the high colour in her cheeks, she decided as she slipped off her sandals and prepared to enter the room.

The dining room with its frescoed walls of blue and green, depicting the perfect garden, was the one room her father had refused to allow Sabina to modernise. Julia instinctively sought out her mother's favourite fresco, a tree with two doves in it. But before her eyes reached it, her gaze fell on Valens. He raised an eyebrow and his lips contracted to give a silent appreciative whistle. She felt the colour rise higher in her cheeks.

His hair curled slightly from the damp of the bath, and he had dressed carefully in a longer pure white tunic, one that only revealed his calves. If she had been meeting him for the first time, she would have sworn he was a patrician, rather than a gladiator. She found it impossible to do anything but stare at him. The memories of what they had just experienced flooding her body.

'Ah, Julia, at long last you arrive.' Sabina's sneer cut across Julia's confusion. 'It is so pleasing that you have taken time out of your busy schedule and finally decided to make an appearance. I see the pile of wool is sitting untouched in the atrium where you left it yesterday.'

'I had a slight headache and was resting,' Julia answered calmly. 'It wasn't until I heard the gong that I realised the time.'

The truth, but not the whole truth. Julia trained her gaze on the ornate floral patter of the middle couch.

'Sabina, Julia is but a little late,' her father said. "The other guests have just finished having their feet washed. And it is a pleasure to see her looking so pretty.'

'Try to keep better track of the time,' Sabina said, pursing her lips as if she had swallowed a glass of vinegar. 'You shall have to have the right couch with the gladiator next to you. I have already assigned your usual place to Livia.'

Julia vaguely listened while Sabina told the two other couples where they would be reclining. Her heart had leapt at the thought of being so near Valens so soon, but then had plummeted to the hem of her gown. She would have to be very careful not to betray her interest in him. This was the first time she had encountered him under the watchful gaze of her father. She had to remain calm.

At Sabina's signal, Julia went to the couch on the far right-hand side and started to arrange herself crosswise. Within a breath, Valens was reclining beside her. She ruthlessly suppressed a tingle as she felt his breath on her cheek.

'I thought you dined alone,' she said, forcing her lungs to breathe normally.

Valens reached over and put a cushion between her and his body. 'Are you disappointed that I am here?'

'Not disappointed, surprised. You gave no indication when…when…' Julia's voice trailed off.

'Your father came into the bathing suite just after you left and insisted I join him for dinner. It seemed churlish to refuse an invitation from the man who has provided me with all this hospitality.'

Julia's breath caught in her throat and she started to cough as she realised how fortunate she had been to escape from the bath suite undetected. Had she lingered a little while longer, her father might have burst in on them. Or he might have been waiting patiently outside when Valens had unbolted the door. She brought her napkin up to her face to hide the worst of the blush.

'I had not realised…'

'We understand each other,' Valens said smoothly. He took a napkin from the waiter, spread it in front of him and then washed his hands in the ewer of perfumed water that another waiter proffered. 'Your father is an honourable man and I can respect that honour. So it was with great pride I accepted his invitation to dine.'

Julia risked a glance at his profile, but she found it impossible to read. Did he mean that he felt he had somehow dishonoured her father's hospitality? Or was she trying to read too much into his words? She concentrated on arranging her napkin and ignoring the stabs of guilt and doubt. She risked a glance at her father, but he was speaking to one of the guests. Julia glanced down at her hands. The time was wrong for confessing.

'I see Senator Mettalius is not here,' Julia said, changing the subject.

'Your father said when he invited me that the senator had pleaded another engagement and there was a place spare,' Valens answered in an undertone. 'He wants to keep the guests to the number recommended by his soothsayer.'

"That could explain Sabina's bad mood.' Julia whispered back. 'A senator at the table would have given her superiority over Livia Gladiticus, the woman on my father's left and Sabina's great social rival. Sabina used to take great pride inviting Lucius, my former husband. Every second conversation was about how wonderfully he was doing in the Senate. Sabina's overriding ambition is to be greater than Livia. See how many times she has pointed out the new water clock and its ability to spit out pebbles on the hour.'

'And was your ex-husband a rising star? Another Pompey?'

'No, but Sabina ignored that. She only saw the broad purple stripe of his senatorial toga and smelt its stench from the Tynan shellfish dye.'

'There is more to a man's character than the stripe of his toga and the odour of his clothes,' Valens said decisively.

'I know…' Julia sighed '…but try telling Sabina or my father that.'