So Falls the World - Chapter 14
Rachel tosses and turns in her bed, unable to sleep.
Images of Quinn's whipped and beaten body haunt her, and her stomach twists at the memories of her lover being punished in the arena—Quinn's back arching in pain as she was lashed over and over and over again. Rachel had never felt so helpless before in her life.
She wanted to scream at Sejanus to make it stop.
But she didn't. Instead, she ran.
Her stomach twists again, this time with guilt, and a few tears escape from her eyes as she remembers Quinn's pained expression—the way those hazel eyes had shined with agony as she stared up at her.
Rachel had been dangerously close to crying at the very first lash of the whip striking Quinn, but the moment their eyes locked, Rachel lost her composure. But she couldn't be seen getting so upset over a slave's punishment, especially in public. So despite how much she knew Quinn needed her in that moment, Rachel let her cowardice get the better of her, and she fled.
Curtius had followed after her, but she had to get out of the Colosseum. Hidden away in the shadows of the corridor, she told him to tell her fathers that she was feeling sick and that she was going home. He had looked at her knowingly and somewhat pityingly, and it stoked enough of her anger to keep her tears at bay until she stepped outside.
The crowd had erupted behind her then—their cheers echoing through the forum—and Rachel could no longer keep it together. She ducked into an alley, curled in on herself, and cried.
She cried for Quinn—for all her lover has lost and all she continues to endure as a gladiator. A sense of helplessness overwhelmed her as she cried over her inability to protect Quinn from the emperor's punishment. She cried over her own cowardice—wishing she wasn't so afraid to reflect poorly on her fathers and wasn't so afraid of what people would say if they knew she had fallen in love with a slave.
Torn and ashamed, she hadn't known whether or not to go to Silvanus's. She hadn't known whether or not Quinn would even want to see her after what happened today. But Rachel realized that she at least owed Quinn an apology, even if she didn't deserve Quinn's forgiveness. But mostly, she had to see Quinn with her own eyes and make sure she was okay.
And so, once her tears had dried, she made her way to the ludus and waited—her stomach churning with worry and regret as Quinn's punishment played over and over in her mind—only to find out that Quinn had been stripped of all her privileges.
Desperate, Rachel had tried to get Silvanus to make an exception—just this once. She had to see Quinn. But the lanista had been steadfast in her refusal, only saying that she would send word once Quinn finished serving her punishment.
Rachel presses the heels of her hands against her eyes, feeling her guilt and desperation grow. What little time she has left with Quinn is slipping through her fingers, and there is absolutely nothing she can do about it. Worse though is the uncertainty of where she even stands with Quinn.
"I'm sorry, Quinn," she whispers into the darkness of her room. "I'm so sorry."
After managing a few restless hours of sleep, Rachel awakens to the sound of heavy rain falling outside. She finds it fitting of her mood.
Instantly, her mind goes to Quinn, and her guilt returns in full force. She has to find a way to see her—to make things right—Silvanus's punishment be damned.
"Good morning, my lady," Elianne's soft voice washes over Rachel as she steps into her bedroom. "Are you feeling better today?"
"No," Rachel replies with a groan, rolling over in her bed to face her slave, who frowns sympathetically.
"Your papa would like to have lunch with you today, but if you're feeling unwell, he wants you to rest."
Rachel considers for a moment before deciding that staying cooped up in her room all day alone with her thoughts is probably not the best idea. "I'll have lunch with him," she says, pushing the covers off of her and slowly getting up, feeling her exhaustion deep in her bones.
Elianne helps her get ready for the day, and Rachel does her best to focus on the task at hand, but she can't stop her thoughts from constantly wandering to Quinn. As she walks along the peristyle to meet her papa in their smaller dining room, Rachel looks out into the garden and spots the gladiolus. Those flowers have always reminded her of Quinn, but never more than in this moment. Despite being pelted by rain, the flowers stand strong.
It's then that Rachel knows how she can see her lover. Her guilt doesn't waver, but her anxiousness over the situation gives way to determination.
"Good afternoon, Rachel," her papa greets her warmly as she steps into the dining room.
He is already reclined on his chaise, a cup of juice in hand, but she notices that the spread of food is untouched.
"Hi, Papa," she replies, offering him a tired smile as she settles down on the chaise across from him.
"How are you feeling today?" he asks. "Better, I hope."
Rachel nods. "A little," she replies, taking a few pieces of fruit for herself. She doesn't have much of an appetite, but she thinks she can manage that much.
"Good," he says with a smile before taking a piece of fish and some vegetables for himself. "I have to say, I'm even more impressed with how skilled Silvanus's gladiatrices are. Duvianus is planning on having a party for them sometime next week."
At this, Rachel perks up a bit before remembering that Quinn likely wouldn't be allowed to attend.
"So that's something to look forward to," he continues after taking a bite of his fish. "I know how much you enjoyed the party we had here for them."
Rachel blushes and takes a sip from her cup, trying to determine whether or not her papa is willfully oblivious to just why Rachel enjoyed that party so much or if he really has no idea. She suspects it's the former.
His lips curve up into a smile then, his eyes twinkling. "Although, I imagine there's something coming up that you're looking forward to even more."
She blinks in confusion, unsure of what he's talking about.
"Your father told me that you have another meeting with Sejanus in a few days," her papa explains.
Rachel's stomach sinks at the thought. She had almost completely forgotten about it, and to say that she's dreading her upcoming meeting with Sejanus is an understatement.
"Ah, yes, that," she replies, not meeting his eyes and gazing out the door toward the garden.
"He seems to be quite taken with you."
She hates how pleased her papa sounds about that fact. Despite all the wishing in the world that Sejanus would lose interest in her, he continues to seek out Rachel's company. If she ignores the fact that he has been responsible for ruining Quinn's life, she might be able to admit that he's actually quite charming and that they have a lot in common. And he has shown her nothing but kindness.
But with every meeting, it gets more and more exhausting not to let her true feelings show—the conflict inside her ever-growing. And after everything that happened yesterday in the arena? Rachel doesn't know how she's going to get through this.
Three days later, Rachel once again finds herself standing on the steps of the palace.
It's just three candlemarks, Rachel, she tells herself as she takes a fortifying breath. You can do this.
As per usual, one of Sejanus's slaves is there to meet her in the vestibule and lead her to wherever Sejanus happens to be waiting for her. Today, it's the dining room.
He greets her with a warm smile and a brief hug—something that has become routine over the last month—before leading her over to the chaises. As always, there is nothing but the best for the emperor—the most delicious food and wine complete with musical accompaniment.
"How are you enjoying the Games so far?" Sejanus asks her after they get settled. He looks rather pleased with himself, and Rachel has to clamp down on her urge to tell him exactly what she thinks of them. But Sejanus's expression morphs into one of concern, and she knows her eyes have given her away. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," she lies, plastering on the sweetest smile she can muster. "Your Games are impressive—much grander than the ones Andronicus hosted," she continues, doing her best to stroke his ego despite how uneasy it makes her. "I've never seen anything like it."
Seemingly satisfied with her response, his lips curve back up into a smile. "I'm glad you think so. I've taken great care in making this an event the people will never forget. Although, the reenactment of the Battle of Arverni didn't quite turn out the way I planned. Silvanus's gladiatrices are much better than I thought they would be."
Rachel tears her gaze from Sejanus as he speaks, not trusting herself to hide her true emotions at this moment. Instead, she focuses on the fatted hen on her plate, doing her best to keep her hands from shaking with anger as she slices off a piece of meat.
"Unsurprisingly, that Gaul still hasn't learned her place," he laments with a mock sigh. "I really should have had her executed for her insolence, but, well, I know she's your favorite gladiator, so I decided to show her mercy."
Rachel presses her lips together as a strange mixture of anger and relief and unease swirls in her chest. That Sejanus had her lover lashed is the farthest thing from mercy in Rachel's mind, but the fact that the only reason Quinn is alive is because of her? It's… gods, Rachel doesn't know what to feel. It hits her just how dangerously close she was to losing Quinn forever that day, and it makes her feel sick all over again.
She chances a glance back up at the emperor, knowing she's expected to say something—expected to thank him, even though the very idea of it feels all wrong. "I appreciate that," she manages to say, doing her best to sound grateful (and she is grateful that Quinn still has her life). "Thank you for considering me."
"But of course," Sejanus replies, his expression softening as he gazes at her. "I must confess something to you, Rachel," he continues after a moment, reaching over to take her hand. "I really enjoy the time I've gotten to spend with you since I've returned home. I've grown very fond of you."
Rachel swallows, unsure of what to say. "I… thank you," she finally says, trying not to pull her hand away. She knows she should probably say something along the lines of being fond of him too, but she can't bring herself to do it. "I'm still getting used to the idea that someone like you would even want to spend time with me."
"Why wouldn't I?" he asks, squeezing her hand gently. "You are an amazing girl, Rachel. Although, sometimes it feels like you're holding back with me—perhaps you are intimidated by me—but I wish you wouldn't be."
"It's hard not to be," she says, and it's the gods' honest truth. She can't imagine what he would do if he knew everything going on inside her head, but she knows it wouldn't be anything good. "After all, you are the emperor."
"This is true," he agrees with a small quirk of his lips. "But I'd like for you be at ease with me."
"I'll try," she says, knowing full well that such a thing is close to impossible.
The smell of rain is in the air, and the temperature is starting to grow a bit cooler, so Rachel has opted to wear her cloak today. She has anxiously waited for this day since coming up with the idea one week ago, and as she knocks on the door to Silvanus's ludus, she only feels that anxiousness grow.
Balba lets her in and confirms that practice is, in fact, being held, and Rachel feels some of her anxiousness subside. She wasn't quite sure when Silvanus would resume training sessions, but she figured one week was enough time.
Rachel twirls the stem of the gladiolus nervously between her fingers as she walks through the atrium. She hopes Quinn will appreciate the sentiment. That is, assuming she'll even be receptive to her presence.
As Rachel steps onto the balcony, she can sense the somberness that hangs over the training ground, and the overcast sky doesn't do much to shake the mood. But Silvanus isn't present—at least not that Rachel can see—and it makes her feel more hopeful about her chances of actually talking to Quinn. Rachel leans over the balcony railing in hopes of catching sight of her lover, but she soon realizes that Quinn isn't there.
Disappointment and worry floods her, and Rachel lets out a long breath as she takes in the scene before her, trying to figure out what to do next.
The gladiatrices who are in the small arena—Britt, Saoirse, Makelesi, Harmonia, and Sukie—are only doing light work. The battle last week has clearly taken its toll on them physically, and Rachel suspects the only reason they're outside at all is to get some fresh air. She watches for a few moments as Makelesi and Saoirse spar with wooden swords while the other slaves look on.
Her arrival doesn't go unnoticed for long, however, and Britt raises her hand in greeting. Rachel waves back lamely, watching as Britt begins to make the short trip to the balcony—walking with a noticeable limp.
"Where's Quinn?" Rachel asks as soon as Britt arrives beneath the balcony, unable to hide her worry.
"She's sick," Britt replies with a small frown. "Some of the lashes from the whipping got infected. She has a really bad fever."
Rachel bites her lower lip and stares down at the flowers in her hands, feeling her worry grow. She wishes so much she could comfort and take care of her lover, and knowing that she's sick with a fever and alone in some cell right now makes Rachel's heart ache.
"Quinn's not mad at you, you know," Britt says then, causing Rachel to look at her once more. "She's mad at the emperor, and a little bit at us too for not standing with her after the battle. And she's really sad about Mhonum… we all are." Her voice cracks a little, and she pauses for a moment, collecting herself, and Rachel can't help but feel a little sympathetic. "But when it comes to you, Rachel, Quinn is just hurt and confused, and I know she misses you."
Rachel smiles sadly at Britt, but she can't help the small measure of relief she feels knowing that Quinn isn't angry with her. "Can you do something for me?" she asks. Britt nods, and Rachel leans down and holds out the flowers, which Britt reaches up to take. "Please give these to Quinn. Tell her I love her. Tell her I'm sorry, and that I'll explain everything as soon as I can see her."
"Okay," she agrees. Her lips quirk up a bit then as she gazes at Rachel in understanding.
"Come on, Britt, let's get going," Saoirse calls out from across the arena.
"I'll see you around, Rachel," Britt says before turning to walk out of the arena, once again limping as she goes.
"Rachel," a voice sounds behind her.
Rachel turns and meets the cold, blue eyes of her host. "Silvanus."
"I thought I told you that I would send word."
"You did," Rachel affirms, "but I thought I might take in the training sessions in the meantime."
"You thought wrong," Silvanus informs her bluntly. "Don't come back here until I say it's okay. After all, Quinn is my slave, and she needs to learn her lesson. Seeing you isn't something she is allowed just yet."
She bites her lower lip and lets out a sigh of disappointment. "How long?"
"I haven't decided yet."
Rachel nods glumly. "Alright, I'll wait for your go ahead."
Silvanus offers her a curt nod before bidding her goodbye, and as Rachel steps back onto the street, she feels a rush of uncertainty. She trusts that Britt will deliver her message to Quinn, but not knowing how long she will have to wait until she can see Quinn again—especially when their time is so short as is—has Rachel in knots.
She glances up toward the sky and pulls her cloak tighter around herself before beginning the short walk home. She wonders if she'll ever feel settled again.
All too soon, she arrives back home, and suddenly, Rachel feels very tired. She just wants to sleep for a very long time, only waking when she and Quinn can be together again.
"Ah, here she is," her father says as she steps into the atrium.
Rachel looks over to see him wearing an excited smile, and she notices that her papa has a matching expression. "What's going on?" she asks as Elianne helps her to remove her cloak, watching warily as her fathers approach her.
"We have wonderful news," her papa explains, wrapping his arm around her waist and leading her toward his office. "We know that you weren't too happy when your father and I first told you all those months ago that we were going to start looking for a husband for you." At those words, Rachel's tiredness suddenly gives way to uneasiness. "So we have taken great care to find someone who is the perfect match for you, and we believe we have found him."
Rachel feels her mouth go dry and her stomach drop. No, no, no, this isn't happening. Not yet. Not now.
"He has asked us for your hand in marriage," her father says then, his smile never wavering as they step into her papa's office. "And we have accepted."
Standing in front of her papa's desk is Emperor Sejanus in all his glory, a jubilant smile lighting up his face as she comes into view, and Rachel feels like she's trapped in some horrible dream.
He steps forward then, gazing at her intently as he takes her left hand in his right. "I am beyond ecstatic that you will be my wife, Rachel."
The cold metal of his ring slides on her finger, and Rachel feels herself go numb.