Author's note: Thanks to poetzproblem for beta reading this chapter and for the great suggestion. :)
Character making his first appearance in this chapter: Aurelian = Artie Abrams
So Falls the World - Chapter 10
Rachel hums a little tune as she cuts through the forum on her way back home, feeling tired but incredibly sated. The sun is just starting to peek over the horizon, and the merchants are opening their stands, getting ready to sell their wares.
With every step she takes, she can feel a dull but delicious ache between her thighs. Rachel's lips curve up into a smile, and she shivers a little at the thoughts of what caused it—how Quinn had taken her again and again late into the night.
She'd heard of it before from Hostia—the battle lust that can overtake a gladiator post-fight—but nothing could have prepared her to be on the receiving end of it like that. Normally, Quinn is—well, she's always enthusiastic, but she's never been so rough and dominating. But Rachel honestly loved every moment of it, especially after witnessing such an emotional victory for her lover in the arena, and the memory of Quinn pinning her down and taking what she wanted—the hunger in those gorgeous, hazel eyes as they bore into her—causes a delicious fluttering in her belly.
She wishes she didn't have to leave Quinn, but she's already taken a risk by even going to Silvanus's last night, and she prays that no one has noticed her absence at home.
Quietly, Rachel sneaks in through the side door of her home, hoping to avoid running into her fathers. Or anyone else for that matter. All she wants right now is a nice, hot bath.
"Oh, thank the gods," Elianne exclaims, catching sight of Rachel and making her jump in surprise. She feels a touch of nervousness as her slave rushes toward her. "We've been looking everywhere for you." Elianne pauses then and looks Rachel over, an expression of worry marring her features. "Where have you been, my lady?"
"I went for a walk," Rachel replies, smoothing down her stola self-consciously and adjusting her hair to cover the marks Quinn left on her neck as she brushes past Elianne and heads toward the bathroom.
"Your fathers are worried," Elianne says as she follows after her, causing Rachel's nervousness to spike at their mention. "You should go see them first."
Rachel is about to argue when she hears her father's relieved voice sound behind her. "There you are, Rachel."
Letting out a sigh and bracing herself as best she can, Rachel turns to face him and her papa. "Here I am," she says, smiling and finding that she doesn't really have to fake it—not after her night with Quinn.
"Where were you last night?" her papa asks, eyeing her critically.
"Right here at home," Rachel replies evenly.
He looks at her disbelievingly. "You're still wearing yesterday's clothes."
"I was tired after yesterday's excitement at the Games, and I fell asleep in them."
"Elianne says you weren't in your room this morning," her father says.
Rachel nods. "That's true. I woke up early and decided to go for a walk out to the Velia to see the sun rise."
Her father shakes his head while her papa looks like he's about to blow his top. Before her papa can say anything, her father holds up his hand to stop him. They share a brief look before her father addresses her once more. "You know you shouldn't be out at that hour without an escort of some kind. It's too dangerous."
"Yes, Father," Rachel replies, doing her best to look thoroughly chastised. "I won't do it again."
"Good," he says, seemingly placated by her response, much to Rachel's relief. "Now that that's settled, I'm needed at the curia, but when I get back this evening, I'd like to have dinner with you and your papa. With the emperor's return home next week, I will be busy with the Senate making preparations for his triumph, and I won't have as much time to spend at home."
"Dinner this evening sounds lovely," Rachel says with a soft smile. "Have a good day, Father."
He says farewell and makes his way out, leaving Rachel alone with her papa. "You really did have us worried, Rachel," he says, obviously not as satisfied with her explanation as her father. "I fear that your impulsiveness might get you into serious trouble someday."
"I didn't mean to make you worry," she replies, trying not to get irritated by his overprotectiveness, but failing as her words take on an additional bite. "I just like to enjoy what little independence I do have."
Her papa frowns. "Rachel…"
Rachel looks away, her good mood quickly diminishing.
He sighs. "You know that I only want what's best for you."
"I don't want to talk about this right now," she replies, trying to keep the frustration out of her voice. She doesn't want to argue with her papa. She just wants to hold on to the good memories from last night. "I'm feeling tired again, and I could use a bath."
"Alright," he says somewhat agreeably. "I have some business to attend to anyway, so I'll leave you to it. I'll see you this evening for dinner with your father."
Rachel nods, offering her papa a tight smile before turning to head toward the bathroom. She's relieved to have gotten out of that conversation with her fathers being none the wiser about her true whereabouts, even though the conversation did take a slightly unpleasant turn near the end. She just wishes things were different—that she could have the life she really wants—but she's realized that it's a fruitless argument.
Elianne dutifully follows after Rachel and as soon as they arrive to their destination, her slave begins to prepare Rachel's bath for her to soak in. One of the benefits of being born to a wealthier family is actually having a private bathroom with hot water. Her fathers tend to use the public bathhouses, so really, Rachel is the one who mainly uses this room.
Unbidden, Rachel wonders what it would be like to share a bath with Quinn. Her lips curve up into an impish smile at the thought of her lover's supple body dripping with droplets of warm water. Maybe she can figure out a way to sneak Quinn into her home sometime when her fathers are out.
"My lady?" Elianne asks, breaking Rachel out of her revelry. Her slave's voice is laced with confusion as she gazes at Rachel expectantly—strigil in hand. "Aren't you going to get undressed?
Rachel flushes slightly as she realizes what a terrible idea that would be. She can't let Elianne see her naked—not after what Quinn did to her last night. No, that would be far too suspicious, and Rachel knows she can't lie her way around the countless marks left behind by her lover's talented mouth.
She clears her throat, hoping her blush has faded. "No, that's alright. I can take care of it myself. I'd rather be alone right now."
"Okay, my lady," her slave agrees demurely, placing the strigil alongside Rachel's preferred ointment and a clean set of towels on the small bench next to the steaming bath. "If you need anything, I'll be next door in the kitchen," she adds before leaving and pulling the curtain closed behind her.
Rachel lets out a sigh of relief as she runs a palm across her face. That was too close, she thinks as she begins to remove her clothes, taking in the sight of the purplish bruises on her hip. But it was so worth it.
There's a light bounce in Rachel's step as she exits her bedroom. It's something that seems to be present every time that she goes to see Quinn, but today is a little different. Rachel is actually going to watch Quinn train—something she has wanted to do for awhile now, but hesitated doing for fear of being seen by one of her father's colleagues. But with everyone in the Senate so busy preparing for Emperor Sejanus's return, she knows there is no risk of that happening today.
Rachel is anxious to see Quinn again, and there's nothing like watching her fight—the way her muscles ripple beneath sun-kissed skin as she moves with deadly precision. In a way, she reminds Rachel a little of the lions that stalk the arena floor during the Games.
"And where are you off to today?" her papa calls out from his office as Rachel walks through the atrium and toward the vestibule.
She pauses alongside the lararium and turns to face him. "I'm meeting up with Curtius to do a little shopping in the forum," she replies with a genuine smile.
He nods and offers her a smile in return. "Tell him I say hello."
"I will," she says.
"Actually, I'll tell him myself," her papa says, his smile growing wider as he looks just over her shoulder.
Rachel whirls around to see Curtius walking through the vestibule and into the atrium. Her eyes widen in surprise at the unexpected sight of him.
Not noticing her slight panic, he smiles at her. "Good afternoon," he says, offering her a hug. "I'm glad to see you're here." He lets go of her then and, as is proper, heads into her papa's office.
Rachel trails after him, feeling like things are dangerously close to unraveling in some way.
"Good afternoon, General Leon, it's good to see you again."
"Likewise," her papa says. "It's wonderful that you and Rachel have been spending so much time together. She seems to be in much better spirits these days, especially on the days that you've taken her to the theater."
A look of confusion crosses Curtius's face, but he recovers quickly, offering her papa a smile. "She does seem to be much happier," he agrees, glancing at Rachel momentarily, and she stares at him imploringly.
"Well, I guess I should let you two get going. Rachel mentioned you were going to the forum."
Another look of confusion flashes in his eyes, but his smile never wavers as he turns his attention fully onto Rachel. "Actually, I was hoping we could stay here," Curtius says. "I had a busy morning, and I'd like to relax if you don't mind."
"That's fine," Rachel says a little too tightly, causing Curtius to raise an eyebrow at her. "Why don't we sit in the garden? Are you hungry?"
"A bit, yes," he confirms.
"Elianne can bring us something to eat." At Rachel's words, her redheaded slave scurries off in the direction of the kitchen.
Rachel then wraps her arm around Curtius's and practically drags him out of the office. "It was nice to see you, General Leon," Curtius calls out as he lets Rachel lead him away.
"You too, Curtius," her papa calls after them, a bemused smile on his face.
"What are you doing here?" Rachel asks under her breath as they make their way toward the peristyle.
"Lovely to see you too, Rachel," Curtius replies with an affectionate roll of his eyes.
Rachel looks at him abashedly. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm glad to see you," she assures him. "I just wasn't expecting you."
"Sorry for dropping in. I had an incredibly busy morning meeting with a few people, and I finally had a break, and I really wanted to see you," he explains as they take a seat on the bench at the far side of garden, beneath the shade of the peristyle's roof. "Other than going to the Games the other day, I haven't seen you nearly as much as I would like these days."
"Your work certainly has kept you busy," Rachel agrees. She honestly finds it a little boring, but right now, she wants to keep the topic of conversation on him. "What do you even do in these meetings?"
"I'm sure you don't want me to bore you with the details," he replies with a half smile before turning his attention across the peristyle and on to Elianne, who is carrying a platter toward them. "Everyone's just trying to prepare for Emperor Sejanus's return. He hasn't been home in almost two years, so it will be a bit of an adjustment."
Rachel gets the sense that there's more to it than that. Curtius runs with a younger group of aspiring politicians, and they seem to rub against the grain a little. At least, that's what her father says.
Elianne reaches them then and sets down a simple platter of fruit, cheese, and fish along with a carafe of juice. Rachel isn't particularly hungry, as she ate shortly before she intended to go see Quinn, so she just sips on some juice while Curtius takes a few mouthfuls of food.
"Your family has the best food." He hums a little in pleasure as he eats some more, watching Elianne disappear back inside. Once they're alone, his attention instantly turns toward Rachel. "So where have you really been spending your time?" Curtius asks her curiously. "Clearly it hasn't been with me since we haven't been to the theater once since I returned from Florentia."
Rachel considers for a moment whether or not she should tell him, but she quickly realizes that lying to him isn't really an option now that he knows something is up. He'll keep pushing until he gets the truth. "You have to promise not to tell anyone," Rachel implores.
Curtius's expression grows concerned. "I promise."
"I've been going to Silvanus's," she confesses.
"Silvanus as in the lanista Silvanus?" he asks almost disbelievingly.
Rachel nods, feeling herself grow tense at his tone.
He presses his lips together briefly as his brow furrows in realization. "Please tell me what I'm thinking is incorrect."
"What are you thinking?" she asks somewhat guardedly.
"That you've taken that Gaul as a lover," he says, disapproval written all over his face.
"Why are you so surprised?" she asks defensively, wishing that he wasn't reacting so negatively. "You knew I was attracted to Quinn, and you knew what happened between us at the party."
"Yes, but I thought it was just going to be a one-time thing. You know, get it out of your system before your fathers marry you off."
He isn't wrong. The last he knew, that was all Rachel had wanted from Quinn. "So did I," Rachel explains, trying to get him to understand. "But after I had a taste, I needed more. Her kisses are more intoxicating than wine."
Curtius shakes his head and stares at her intently. "Rachel, you're playing a very dangerous game right now. If word gets out that you've taken a gladiatrix as a lover…" he trails off, but he gazes at her with deadly seriousness.
"I know, it will hurt my fathers' chances at finding me a husband," she says, not bothering to hide her frustration or bitterness.
He frowns sympathetically. "It would probably be best if you stopped this now before you get caught."
His suggestion makes it feel as if a vice has gripped around her heart. "I can't," Rachel says, unable to keep the desperation out of her voice, the idea of not seeing Quinn anymore tearing her up. "I'm not ready to let her go, Curtius. Quinn is… gods, she's amazing. She makes me feel so alive, and don't I deserve to have that? Don't I deserve to have some happiness before my fathers force me into some loveless marriage? Quinn is the best thing to ever happen to me, and I know that I'm one of the only good things in her life. After everything she's had to endure, she deserves some happiness, and I want to give her that."
His gaze turns incredulous. "It sounds like you have actual feelings for her."
She takes pause at his accusatory tone. "I care for her. What's so wrong with that?"
Curtius leans forward, his blue eyes flashing in warning. "She's a slave, Rachel. One of the lowest of the low. It's one thing to bed her, but love her?"
"I… I don't love her," Rachel denies, but the words feel all wrong on her tongue, and she's terrified to consider what that might mean.
"You know what I mean," he argues. "You care more than is appropriate for a slave, especially a gladiator."
She knows what he's saying is true, but it still makes her bristle all the same. "I don't need you telling me this."
Curtius's jaw clenches, and he looks like he's about to say something more, but instead he closes his eyes and lets out a breath. "You're right. I don't need to tell you what you already so clearly know. Otherwise, you wouldn't have gone to the trouble of hiding it," his words still have a bite to them, and he pauses, letting out another sigh. "Just be careful," he says more gently. "And next time, if you're going to use me as an alibi, give me a little warning first. Do you realize how easily I could have shown up at your home unexpected while you were supposedly out with me? That's almost exactly what happened today."
"I know," Rachel replies, feeling a touch of regret. Perhaps her papa was right about her impulsiveness. She should have thought it through a little better. But she almost can't help herself when it comes to Quinn. "Still, I wish you would just be happy for me. If you were to take Flavian as a lover, I would be happy for you."
Curtius flushes a little at her comment and smooths out a non-existent wrinkle in his toga. "You know that I don't have to play by the same rules as you, Rachel," he says after a moment, raising her ire. "Besides, I only want what's best for you."
Rachel huffs out a bitter laugh. "You sound just like my fathers," she says hotly. "You want what's best for me? Then you should want me to be able to make my own decisions about my life."
Curtius looks at her contritely. "I'm sorry," he says after a beat. "You're right. I… I do wish that you could choose for yourself though. And I know that if you were a man, you would have that choice," he tells her earnestly. "But Rachel… this isn't only about that. Even if you were a man, that doesn't change the fact that Quinn is a slave, and you're emotionally involved. That's frowned upon for someone of our stature, and even though it shouldn't matter, the fact that you are an unmarried woman just exacerbates things. So again just… be careful."
"I will," she promises a little testily. "And your apology is accepted." She takes another sip from her cup and turns her attention to the gladiolus plant off to her right, trying to collect herself.
She's still upset with the way their entire conversation went, but despite that, a part of Rachel knows that everything Curtius says is true. She hadn't fully realized it until he said it, but she is emotionally involved with Quinn.
It's like Quinn has taken root in her mind and in her heart and blossomed as a deep affection that seems to grow stronger every moment of every day.
But does she love Quinn?
She doesn't know—she's never been in love before. All Rachel knows is that she thinks about Quinn constantly, and she's always looking forward to when she will see her next. She yearns to feel the warmth of her body pressed against her own, and when they are together, it's like she's found the perfect song. Being with Quinn makes her feel alive and complete, and there's no better feeling than when she brings a smile to Quinn's face.
Rachel presses her lips together and lets out a long breath as she closes her eyes, feeling her heart sing and ache all at once. I think I'm in love with Quinn.
It's a terrifying realization. Because Curtius is right—it's not proper to feel this way about a slave.
But even knowing that doesn't change anything. Like everything relating to Quinn, Rachel just can't help herself.
Two days that feel like an eternity later, Rachel is finally able to get away long enough to see Quinn again.
The relief in Quinn's eyes at the sight of Rachel is unmistakable as she approaches her.
"I've missed you," Quinn confesses quietly, searching Rachel's eyes hesitantly, and it makes Rachel's heart melt. How this girl can be so strong and yet so vulnerable with her will never not amaze her.
"I've missed you too," Rachel replies before pressing a lingering kiss to Quinn's lips. Quinn's hands find purchase on Rachel's hips, and Rachel feels more than hears Quinn sigh as their mouths part to briefly deepen the kiss.
"I was afraid I scared you off," she tells her once they break apart. "I don't know what got into me the other night."
Rachel presses a finger to Quinn's lips and shakes her head, her mouth curving up into a sensual smile. "Don't. I loved it. It reminded me of what drew me to you in the first place—the power you exert in the arena… it's an incredible thing to watch. And it was even more incredible to be swept up in it—to be under your control, completely helpless to your touch."
Quinn's eyes darken with Rachel's confession as her hands tighten on her hips and her tongue lightly licks her lips.
Quinn dips her head just as Rachel lifts her chin, and their mouths crash together in a heated kiss. Rachel threads her fingers through blonde locks and presses their bodies together, needing to be even closer to Quinn.
There's an undercurrent of desperation with every touch and taste of Quinn Rachel takes. There's not a doubt in her mind anymore—she loves Quinn—and knowing just how forbidden this is makes it all the more intense for Rachel. It makes her want to hold on to Quinn and never let go, because the specter of her future looms closer and closer—a future with no place for Quinn.
And as she slides her hands beneath Quinn's tunic and caresses the scarred skin of Quinn's back, Rachel tries to push away those thoughts of the candlewax burning down. She wants to cherish these moments with Quinn for as long as she can have them.
The day of Emperor Sejanus's return to Rome is ushered in with a triumph. Rachel finds herself with Curtius among the masses of people that line the route of the procession. She's grateful that they're situated on the Capitoline Hill, not far from the Temple of Jupiter, where the triumph will be concluded.
The people are excited, and it's hard not to get caught up in it, but there's a sliver of confliction in Rachel's heart over this particular triumph. Her feelings for Quinn make it difficult to fully appreciate the victory being celebrated, but she has always loved her country and honored the men who fulfill its greatness, and today is no different.
"Here they come," Curtius says a little excitedly as the distinctive white tunics of the senators come into view, while the faint sounds of trumpets begin to reach their ears.
Rachel spots her father marching near the front of the procession along with the rest of the Senate, and she feels a surge of admiration. She cheers for him along with the rest of the crowd, smiling and waving at him. He notices her and smiles in her direction.
The trumpeters briefly cut through the din of the citizens' cheers as they pass by, playing songs of fanfare. Since Rachel first heard these songs as a small child, they have never failed to inspire feelings of pride for Rome's victories, and she finds that it still holds true even now.
The spoils of war come next. Cartloads of Gallic armor, weapons, and coins are hauled by prisoners of war turned slaves. Rachel has only been to a handful of triumphs—most memorably that of her papa—and she has only ever felt satisfaction at the sight of these war trophies. But now, there are unbidden thoughts—things suddenly taking a personal note. Does Quinn know any of these men? Were they her friends?
Rachel frowns and swallows thickly, trying to push away the unpleasant thoughts. It doesn't matter. They're still enemies of Rome, she tells herself, purposefully ignoring what that makes Quinn as she brings her attention to the pair of beautiful, white bulls—a sacrifice for Jupiter—that follow.
Behind them, the arms and insignia of the fallen Gallic tribes are displayed along with images of the conquered cities and the names of the conquered people. Rachel catches sight of the tribe of Arverni's name—the yellows and reds of their insignia flapping in the breeze—and her grip unconsciously tightens around the flowers in her hands.
Next are the emperor's lictors, who carry fasces wreathed with laurel, and the cheers of adulation begin to mount. Rachel lets out a long breath and loosens her grip, her curiosity growing as she peers further down the road to see four white horses pulling the emperor's chariot.
And then Rachel finally sees him through the flowers being showered upon him by the cheering masses—Emperor Sejanus, standing proud and tall in his chariot. He's even more handsome than Rachel remembers, and his laurel crown and tunica palmata—a highly decorative purple tunic covered in gold embroidery of foliage with its rich, colored stripes along the trim—give him an almost godly aura.
Rachel gets swept up in the crowd's enthusiasm and experiences a rush of excitement, and she cheers as he passes by, tossing her flowers in the emperor's direction along with the rest of the citizens surrounding her.
Finally, taking up the rear are the unarmed, high-ranking soldiers who served under Sejanus in the Gallic war, but Rachel, and seemingly almost everyone around her, hardly notices them. All eyes follow Sejanus's chariot as it travels up the road and then finally stops outside the Temple of Jupiter.
He gracefully steps down from the chariot and walks over to the pair of white bulls, where a priest and the vestal virgins await next to the altar. The virgins offer Sejanus wine and sacred bread, which he then takes and sprinkles over the bulls' heads. The priest then hands Sejanus a ceremonial dagger. With practiced ease, he slits each of the animals' throats, causing them to fall to the ground as their lives are offered up to Jupiter.
Two of the emperor's lictors then step forward to take ceremonial blades from the priest and proceed to cut open the bulls, removing the most vital organs and placing them on the altar that sits outside the temple. Sejanus then takes a torch and sets fire to them, murmuring what Rachel presumes to be prayers to Jupiter under his breath. I give that you might give, is how it goes.
The priest then fastens a blindfold around his head and whispers another prayer over the sacrificed animals and their burning entrails while one of the vestal virgins plays a flute.
The sacrifice complete, Sejanus then enters the Temple of Jupiter along with his lictors and the priest, while the crowd outside awaits with baited breath. The final part of the ceremony calls for an offering of his laurel crown to Jupiter along with the lighting of incense.
Long moments later, the emperor exits the temple, his crown still affixed atop his head, drawing awed murmurs from the assembled citizens.
"Does he think himself a god?" Curtius mutters under his breath, and Rachel shoots an odd look in his direction.
"It's not unheard of for an emperor to permanently retain the title of imperator," she refutes quietly so as not to draw attention to their conversation. "After all, he isn't like the rest of us."
"He's still mortal," he argues before clamping his mouth shut.
Rachel eyes him strangely, but before she can say anything more, her father begins to address the still-gathered crowd outside of the temple.
"People of Rome!" he calls out, coming to stand alongside Sejanus. "The triumph of Emperor Sejanus is now complete. He would like to invite you all to share in a banquet to celebrate this evening."
The declaration is met with cheers from the citizens of Rome. Rachel watches her father turn to say something to the emperor, and Sejanus nods, offering her father a smile as he clasps their hands together. It gives her an odd feeling, but before she can consider it, Curtius has looped his arm in hers. "Come on, let's get to celebrating," he says, and Rachel isn't sure how to interpret his tone, but she gets the impression that he's less than thrilled.
She decides it doesn't matter. She's determined to enjoy herself tonight.
Rachel is escorted to Sejanus's palace by both of her fathers. The moment she enters the massive dining room—it's at least five times the size of the one in her home—there is no doubt that this banquet is by far the most extravagant she's ever attended. Her senses are instantly overwhelmed by the sounds of music, the sight of dancers, and the smell of freshly cooked food.
Most of the citizens are partaking in the lavish public banquet in the forum, but the patricians, politicians, and high-ranking soldiers have been invited to celebrate with the emperor himself in his home.
Rachel soon spots Curtius involved in what looks to be a deep conversation with one of those young politicians he's been spending so much time with lately—Aurelian, she thinks his name is.
Her papa excuses himself shortly after their arrival and wanders off to talk with Lieutenant Brutus. Rachel exchanges pleasantries with a few girls she is acquainted with—daughters of other senators—as she and her father continue to move through the crowd.
Rachel smiles to herself when she sees Hostia and her husband, one of the lieutenants fighting under Sejanus, happily reunited. Hostia's admitted to Rachel that they don't love each other, but they respect each other and have deep affection for one another. They freely take other lovers to their beds, and Rachel thinks their relationship is a bit unusual, but it works.
"Rachel," her father says a little excitedly, drawing her attention to him. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."
His tone makes her a little uneasy, but she allows him to lead her toward a small group, where the emperor is laughing along with a few of his generals. Rachel feels herself grow inexplicably nervous as she realizes she is about to meet the emperor, a man that she has always revered but who has never seemed quite real to her. Sejanus's eye catches Rachel and her father approaching, and he excuses himself, meeting them halfway.
"Senator Hirrus," he greets her father with a warm smile.
"Emperor Sejanus," her father replies in kind. "I'd like to introduce you to my daughter, Rachel."
Sejanus smiles at her then before addressing them both. "Is this the same Rachel I've been hearing about—the one with the voice that would make Apollo himself jealous?"
Rachel blushes, and her father beams proudly. "The same," he confirms. "She also plays the cithara masterfully."
"Very impressive," Sejanus says, looking pleasantly surprised and somewhat intrigued as he gazes intently at Rachel. "I'm something of a musician myself, you know," he tells her. "I would love to have the opportunity to perform with you sometime."
Rachel's eyes widen in surprise. "That would be lovely," she says, almost beside herself.
"Pardon the interruption," Senator Romulus says then, seemingly coming out of nowhere as he steps alongside the trio. "I need to borrow Senator Hirrus for a moment."
"That's fine," Sejanus replies, motioning with his head for her father to take his leave. He smiles charmingly at Rachel then. "I'd love to have the chance to talk to Rachel some more."
Her father looks pleased by this, and Rachel can't help but feel a bit awed as Sejanus holds his arm out for her to take. She delicately places her left hand in the crook of his elbow, and as he leads her across the room, Rachel is all-too-aware of the curious eyes of the other partygoers watching them, but she can't say that she doesn't like the attention.
"So besides music, what else do you enjoy doing?" Sejanus asks, letting go of her arm as he comes to a stop in a quieter corner of the room, continuing to take Rachel by surprise. She almost can't believe that the emperor is actually interested in anything about her.
"I'm actually quite fond of the Games," she says, immediately thinking of Quinn and unable to stop the smile that comes to her face as a result.
"Are you now?" he replies with an excited glint in his eyes. "I have a few ideas in mind for the first set of Games that I'll be hosting. I'm thinking a retelling of my most recent conquests in Gaul would make for an entertaining and educational fare."
Rachel's smile falters slightly at the mention of his conquest—the reality of what that meant for Quinn suddenly hitting her once again. She should hate what Sejanus has done, and a part of her does. But he is still the emperor of Rome, and there is nothing greater than the glory of their empire. She doesn't know how she should feel about this man—someone who she has always admired and who is practically revered as a god by some—standing in front of her.
"Something wrong?" he asks, his brow furrowing in concern at her dismay.
"No, everything's fine," Rachel lies, smiling a little too brightly. "I think that sounds like an excellent idea."
"I'm glad you agree," he replies. "After all, I heard my cousin Andronicus put on an extraordinary set of Games in my stead, and I would be remiss not to meet the challenge of doing one better."
"They were quite spectacular," she confirms, unable to stop thinking of Quinn, and she has the uncomfortable thought of how Quinn would feel if she knew exactly what Rachel was doing right now. She lets out an uneasy breath as she meets Sejanus's eyes. "But I'm certain yours will be even better."
His lips curve up smugly, clearly pleased with her response. "I've heard that one of the Gauls that I declared ad ludum has made quite a name for herself," he says then. "Quinn her name is. Have you seen her?"
Rachel swallows thickly and nods. "I have," she replies, trying not to betray any of the turmoil she's experiencing. "She's probably the most gifted gladiator I've ever seen."
"She is something, but sadly for her tribe, not enough on an actual battlefield," he says a bit haughtily. Rachel clenches her jaw as she recalls what Quinn shared with her about the battle, but she maintains politeness and keeps her mouth shut. "But that was to be expected. After all, my battle plan was impeccable."
"I'm sure," Rachel says tightly, trying to think of a way to change topics. Or even better, just get out of the conversation all together, but that's not an option. "You're probably glad to be home now though, aren't you?"
He nods, offering her another charming smile as he gazes intently at her. "I most certainly am."
Rachel's eyes widen as the meaning of his words sink in, and the sliver of confliction that's been in her heart all day suddenly feels like a riot of anarchy.