A/N: Thank you much to 1oooWords for words of motivation and taking the time to promote this fic of mine! This chapter wouldn't happen if it weren't for you.

And thank you all for your support! I'm really glad that you guys enjoyed this

There was no warmth in his smile as Octavian graced the wry upturned of his lips towards the older boy, a hint of malice could be seen in his eyes as he regarded Jason as easily as he would lift his nose in the air towards the peasants, completely ignoring Reyna in a way that she didn't even exist. "You're back early. Of course, knowing you, son of Jupiter, victory should come easy for you," he calmly readjusted his grip on the book of parchments he had in his arm, where it looked too heavy in his bone-like arms. "Since beating a slave has not been so much of a competition before."

He still didn't acknowledge Reyna's presence then, and she only tampered down the spark of irritation that managed to ignite in her chest as she wrecked her head for some information of the scrawny boy in front of her. And wasn't surprised when she found that he was Pontifex Maximus' son, where she heard that even at a young age, he already had a keen eye on becoming a praetor.

He was there when the consul, dictators, praetors, and senators were deciding her fate, sitting beside his father as he stared at her with obvious hatred. Back then, she stood alone in the middle of the forum as all of them sat on chairs around her. She remembered standing tall in front of them all, staring straight ahead while only focusing her attention on Praetor Michael, feeling the jab of every insult uttered quietly in the room as they all were directed to her.

Jason didn't move at the words and instead stood his ground. "The fight was successful." he answered bluntly.

Octavian hummed, dismissive. "Pity it was a clean fight. After all, it has been a while seen gladiators had been wrestling on the field, and I do say that I love to watch them strangle each other to death," Reyna suddenly felt sick in her stomach. "But I suppose you won?"

"No."

A thin pale eyebrow raised. "No?"

"No," Jason agreed with a narrow of his eyes, as if daring him to say more of it. "I didn't win. Reyna did."

She calmly met Octavian's look, where he made no restrain in concealing his distaste for the girl. But she couldn't help but notice there was some relief hidden somewhere among the hatred he showed, and she was surprised by that particular fact. "You lost," he began slowly. "To a slave."

It was more of a statement than a question. "Yes," Jason answered lamely. "She's a warrior, and she had beaten me fairly."

Octavian sniffed in disdain. "Well, I suppose she would, considering her savage ways of scrambling here from the bottom of the food chain."

Jason bristled slightly. "She won fairly."

"Hardly," Octavian waved it away, seemingly becoming disinterested. "I must take my leave, you see. Father would want my presence to sort out some religious means of the shrines. It's highly important and I wouldn't want him waiting."

"Please, don't let us stop you." Reyna lamented.

He seemed insulted that she dared said a word towards him and shot her a glare, and she returned it with a flat look that made him huff, swooping past them that his shoulder almost collided with hers if she hadn't taken a step back.

She smiled lightly when his foot collided with her sword she deliberately stuck out that he stumbled, causing a few pieces of parchments to flutter from his grasp. He managed to catch himself and whirled towards them, his face red with anger. "You did that on purpose!" He spat at her, snatching one from the floor.

She blinked blankly at him. "I believe I have no part in this accusatory you blatantly told me, you merely tripped."

"I never trip," he hissed, fist clenched around the last parchment as he straightened up. "This is treachery. You're trying to tarnish my reputation!"

She gave a humourless smirk. "Looks like we have something in common now, have we? A son of the Pontifex Maximus with a lowly slave," she clicked her tongue, enjoying the way his face turned furious. "I'm sure we will get along easily."

Octavian didn't say a word as he stomped away, leaving the two teenagers to stare after him.

Jason looked at her in astonishment. "No one has ever dared doing such things towards him."

The last of her staged enjoyment was gone as she turned grim, feeling the dread sinking in her gut as she realised fully at what she done in her anger. "And I just made another enemy."

"What can he do?" he snorted. "He is as thin as a branch. He wouldn't stand a chance if you were to defeat him."

She turned sharply at him, narrowing her eyes. "You don't understand, do you?" she questioned quietly, making him fidget as she stared intently at him. "He's a son of one of the powerful figures in Rome. His father's word is as poisonous as the law itself."

He blinked once. "What does his father have anything to do with you?"

"It means, son of Jupiter," she snapped, and for the first time he saw real emotion flashed pass her face. "If he wishes to terminate me just because Octavian seems fit, then he shall do so without batting an eye. He'll convince the others to follow him, and the praetors would be outnumbered if they were fight with the senators verbally," she shook her head, turning away from him. "Praetor Michael has done much for me, I would not want to throw this away simply because I could not hold my anger and started a fight with someone's spawn."

"Praetor Michael would protect you," he started to assure her but then paused, considering fully of his next words. "As I would."

She laughed hollowly. "I started my fights, I believe I can end them on my own without anyone breathing down my neck. Especially from the likes of you."

She couldn't bring herself to feel guilty when he looked hurt. "I'm not like them, Reyna, I won't scorn you for your gender and your ability to fight as perfectly as any warrior would. I do want to help you," he paused. "If you give me your full consent."

"And I would not," she easily answered. "I don't need your help, I have been on my own for years, why change that?"

He took a deep breath. "An ally would help in certain circumstances and prevent you from getting hurt."

Her expression hardened. "You know as well as I do that would hardly stop them from trying."

"Then, we would stop them from getting to you first." he replied smoothly.

"Why are you trying so hard to protect me?" she demanded. "Did you not hear what Octavian said? I am a slave, my presence with you will only let everyone look down on you, son of Jupiter and Mistress Baryl," she was satisfied to see him flinch. "They will say I would try to seduce you to bed, take you for your wealth and become as charming as a bed slave. And believe me, you would not want something as difficult as that hanging above your head."

He sighed, as if admitting defeat. "Is it so hard to believe that I want to be your friend?"

Surprised, she took a step back. But then she shook herself out of her stupor and clenched her jaw, turning away from him and left him alone, where she couldn't bring herself to be in his presence any longer as she already broke one of her vows she made to herself during the time she waited to be introduced to him yesterday.

Make alliances, but do not let a string of attachment from them or herself latch onto each other.

She huffed, making her way towards her room that Michael provided for her, ignoring the looks from people as she yanked her door open, disappearing inside with a slam of the wooden door.

Setting aside her weapon, she unbuckled her armour, letting Jason's words churn inside her head as she thought of his offer, but after she abandoned him in the clearing, she doubt that it still stood.

He was persistent, she saw how genuine he was when he said he wanted to help her to the point that he thought that something caramaderic would be formed between them. Most shallow minded people would be enthusiastic at the idea of a demigod -especially if his father was the king of gods- wanted to be in their presence. But she knew of Jupiter's children, how fickle their mind would be in things they thought they could handle. In the end, they were just as fragile as any human.

She couldn't take the risk of becoming his friend, and she was determined to be as far away from him as possible if she could help it, where she would immerse herself in her upcoming duties as praetor after she would decide his punishment of losing to their duel.

There was a knock on the door just when she finished took off her armour, and let it settle on the beautiful crafted chest at the foot of her bed. "Come in."

The door creaked open and a mass of curly hair quickly came in, and Reyna allowed herself a smile when she saw her old friend holding a tray of food in her hands. "Hazel."

Eyes that looked too sharp for such youthful face stared back at her, and a grin grew. "Hello, Reyna."

Reyna watched her friend gently set aside the tray of cheese, bread, grapes, and a jug of water on the table near the window, while she grabbed a brush to polish her armour. "I heard that you won."

Reyna lifted her head and raised an eyebrow. "Did you?"

Hazel nodded, pouring water into the cup. "You know how news travels fast when something as important as that happens, people are excited."

"You don't have to do that," Reyna began softly when Hazel began treading towards the bathroom, no doubt getting ready for bath. "I was about to do it myself."

"Well, you're not a slave anymore, it would be an honour for me to do it for my future praetor," There was a sound of tap turning. "As I was saying, people are talking at how you defeated Jason at the duel this morning, where he was shamed in front of the public and I quote, 'An embarrassment to the male civilisation'."

"He doesn't look ashamed," Reyna muttered, brushing the breastplate in her hands a bit rougher than before. "If anything, he doesn't seem to think that he has been publicly embarrassed in front of people at all."

"As if the thought of you being a woman went over his head and what you two did was merely something between companions," Hazel added from where she was in the bathroom. "Which is good but odd in a way, yes?"

The smell of flowers wafted into her room. "Precisely. It," Reyna clicked her tongue. "Unsettles me."

Hazel step into her room with a chuckle. "Everything unsettles you, Reyna, but I must admit that this is new. A man civilly fighting with a woman?" she shook her head. "The world is ending."

Reyna sent her friend a smirk. "You're far too wise for an eleven year old."

Hazel giggled, wiping her wet hands onto her toga. "I'm cursed with it, you have to listen to me at all cost, for your own safety," But then, her smile dropped slightly, a worried frown marred her features. "Do you feel safe, Reyna?"

Reyna was startled at the question and met her friend's somber eyes. Hazel only waited for her response, and in return she thought hard on that question. "I suppose, as long as I breathe, they will try to pester me until I cannot handle the pressure of the people and drop my chance of proving everyone that women can, in fact, rule a post of high ranking as much as men can. I cannot allow this chance to slip from my fingers like it happened to Hylla when she tried to do what I'm doing," she looked away, occupying herself with the brush and armour. "This will be an open door for women to do what we were forbidden to do, that something as important as having a voice is considered as illicit."

Silence stretched through the room, and she hadn't realise that Hazel had moved until she felt a hand on her shoulder. "Sometimes I forget that we are too young to think like this," Hazel murmured. "That this was just a twisted game everyone is playing."

Reyna shot her a wry look. "I'm fourteen, Hazel. I'm in marriage age already. But, I doubt anyone would want to marry a savage woman such as myself."

Hazel hummed, squeezing her shoulder briefly before letting go. "But even then we are still too young," she made her way towards the door. "I must leave, work is demanding as of late and I don't think I want to hear anymore screaming from the Head Slave."

Reyna stood up, setting aside her armour and made her way towards her, pulling Hazel into a hug. "Thank you, for everything."

Hazel hugged her back before she slipped past the open door and closed it gently behind her, leaving Reyna standing there with an echo that filled in the empty space of her room.

It was evening when Reyna was reading a book that a slave told her Praetor Michael required her presence.

As she walked down the hallway, noting at how empty the place was, she couldn't help but be slightly nervous at what he wanted from her. And as she threaded through the stoned floors towards the large doors, her nerves were becoming more tangled.

She knocked, and was granted access when she heard his muffled voice. Michael was behind his desk, writing something on his parchment as the evening sun shone behind him. "Ave, Reyna. Please, come in."

Softly, Reyna shut the door behind her, and closed the space between them by standing in front of his desk and bowed. "Ave, Praetor Michael. You asked for me?"

"Yes. Seeing that I just witness an impressive duel you had with Jason, I was wondering if you have thought of what kind of punishment you would do to him."

She straightened herself up slowly. "I have."

He raised his head, a smile on his face. "Excellent. Would you be so kind to tell me what would it be?"

She frowned slightly. "I thought I was going to announce it to the public."

"Oh, there's no need. You'll only have to declare his punishment in front of the high consuls only, the people of Rome do not need to know of this," he put down his quill, giving her his full attention. "What do you have in mind for him?"

For some reason she was hesitant in answering, but she shook it off as tiredness. "My personal guard for the rest of his life."

He seemed surprised. "You do realise that doesn't consider so much of a punishment?"

She stared at him. "Did you expect me to say that he has to be severely punished?"

"For a second, I did," he leaned back on his chair. "For a second, I thought you were going to suggest that he should be whipped at the post, bleeding as his scars are the reminder of when he challenged a woman such as yourself."

She blinked. "I am practical, Praetor Michael," she told him evenly. "If I wanted to hurt him more, I could have done it myself on the Colosseum when I had the chance. However, as far as embarrassment goes, this is one of the worse I could think of."

He smiled in amusement. "Punishing a man to serve as her personal and loyal guard when society disapproves of it, very well thought of. And yet, you do not want to hurt him."

"I did hurt him, but the only reason my attacks are light is because Jason holds back his own blows."

"He hesitates?"

"Unfortunately."

He hummed, as if considering something. "Very well. As it is your decision, Jason will be your personal soldier for as long as he lives as his punishment. I will announce it tomorrow when the time comes."

She nodded. "Thank you."

"How is your sister?"

She stiffened, the sudden question caught her off guard as she forced herself to meet his eyes. "I have yet to see her since two summers ago."

He shuffled his parchments that were scattered on his desk, as if he was looking for something. "I hear she has been well." When she stayed quiet, he looked up from his search. "I hope I had not offend you."

"No." she replied thickly.

He didn't seem convinced, but continued moving his belongings aside. "Her mistress personally came to me and wanted me to give you this letter, since she knew you would spend most of your time learning with me," he let out a sound of triumph. "Here it is."

She slowly walked towards him, tentatively taking the folded parchment from his fingers.

"And she congratulates you on beating her son."

The outrage that was directed to Reyna that morning wasn't a surprise, she merely stood in the middle of the clearing like the first time she step foot into the forum, accepting the insults with a calm air.

Jason was staring at her with his mouth agape slightly from where he stood beside her, but she ignored him as she waited for the ruckus to shimmer down, her hand clutched her side from where she hid Baryl's letter in her toga, away from prying eyes.