as promised, here is the next chapter! :D

The Rumors

Unfortunately, Ellery and Huixing left about an hour before the dinner, so I did not have company as I paced in our suite. My stomach was beginning to do backflips as my nerves increased, and with it, of course, my prickles.

Why did Commodus look at me with that weirdly intense and serious expression? Why had he really requested I come visit him right now? Why had he let Ellery and Huixing join me, if he didn't care about them?

Perhaps it was because I was a child of Apollo? One thing I was pretty sure of, the timing of this could not be a coincidence. The thing I couldn't really figure out was why he wanted me to be here when Apollo was here.

I wracked my brain, trying to remember any stories about Apollo and Commodus, but I was coming up with a blank. Except for what Commodus had referred to when we'd first met: that they had been in a relationship. Besides, I had been reading more about Commodus himself, as an emperor, not caring much about his personal relationships.

You'd think I'd know more about my own father, but since we had a pretty rocky relationship, I didn't really spare him any extra time. Not that I had much extra time anymore.

A soft knock came from the door, breaking me from my musings. My stomach knotted, now feeling like a too-tight guitar string. I thought my guts might just snap from the pressure and kill me instantly. At least it would get rid of my chronic pain.

Taking a deep breath and swallowing my bile that was rising in my throat, I went to the door and slowly opened it up. I let out my breath in a huff, when I saw someone I wasn't expecting standing in the doorway.

They couldn't have been older than 18, Asian—maybe Vietnamese? Their black hair was long, but one side was completely shaved down. It took me a moment to realize that there was also a braid running down the edge of the side-undercut, with the end of the braid pinned back into the rest of their hair. Behind them was a rack of dresses.

They were dressed semi-formal, with black slacks, flats, and a purple button down underneath a black suit jacket. They had a makeup bag over their arm, and—

I jolted, feeling a sharp pain in my side. But it wasn't my pain. It was theirs.

I blinked, looking at the rack of dresses again to try and disguise my surprise and concern.

"Let me help you with that," I said, pointing to the rack, before they could say anything…like introductions. Which, in retrospect, would've been the more polite thing to do.

The person blinked, their mouth ajar—they must've been getting ready to introduce themselves. Oops.

Instead, they closed their mouth and smiled before saying, "Sure. Thank you."

I stepped away from the door, which swung shut automatically like a hotel door would. We maneuvered the rack so it would line up with the doorway better, and then I reopened the door, carefully backing into the room, pulling the rack as I did so. I had to clumsily prop the door with my foot and shuffle backward, but the other person helped keep the rack straight and from falling over from the weight of the swinging dresses.

I had expected as much from Commodus, unfortunately, seeing as when Nero had requested I sing for him (or rather, him and a few of his guests at a party he was hosting), I'd had to dress for the occasion, as well. But a whole rack full of dresses? Seemed a bit much.

Obviously, I would choose one, but it felt a little over the top, and especially odd coming from someone who I'd barely interacted with.

As we got the rack further into the room, past the door, I felt their wound throb painfully. I glanced at their face to see if they would show signs of pain, but they were good at hiding it. The only thing that may have tipped me off was the thin sheen of sweat forming on their forehead, but that could've easily been explained away from the workout we were currently getting.

I wanted to ask right then and there what was wrong, but was afraid that might startle them into not giving me a straight answer. I found patients often found it uncomfortable when we (children of Apollo) could just tell them where they were hurting. Instead, I focused on helping them. (Having worked part-time at a hotel, I'd learned how to move large, heavy things through small doorways without injury.) Maybe this would help me gain their trust, and they'd be more willing to open up to me.

When we finally cleared the door, we wheeled it in front of the mirror. The new person stepped back and huffed, straightening up but then wincing.

"Thank you, again," they said loudly, bringing my attention to their face and away from their side. Now that I was really looking at their face, though, I noticed their complexion looked a little ashen, too. This confirmed my suspicion. Whatever pain they were nursing in their side: it was recent.

I nodded. "Sure."

"I'm Kasey," they said, holding out their free hand. "It's an honor to meet you."

I blinked in confusion at their word choice but automatically reached for their hand.

"Thank…you," I managed, but accidentally made it sound like a question. It didn't even occur to me that I'd forgotten to say something along the lines of, "Nice to meet you, too" until much later, I was so confused by what they had said. And honor? What did they mean by that?

"Oh, did Emperor Commodus not inform you?" Kasey asked misreading me, as we pulled our hands away, their expression clouding over. "I'm…um, here to help you prepare for tonight's dinner." They turned before I could respond and went over to the vanity in our room, setting their make-up kit on the table.

I glanced back at the dresses. A rack full of dresses and a makeup…artist? Designer? I wasn't really sure what the right term was.

I could feel my prickles start growing in response to all…this. Whatever you wanted to call it.

Kasey cleared their throat and I looked back at them. They were facing me again. "I, uh, I'm sorry you were uninformed."

"Oh it…it's not your fault," I muttered, trying not to sound disgruntled. And if I did, hoping Kasey would understand that I wasn't upset with them.

Kasey smiled nervously at me, but said nothing, before stepping back and gesturing to the chair at the vanity. They had turned the lights on, so now it glowed brightly, easily outshining the lamps in the room.

I looked at it apprehensively before shedding my jacket, preparing myself for what was about to happen. I'd gotten dressed up before, of course. It just felt…weird, being treated like a guest, when I knew I was a hostage. Sure, I did things for the emperors when they asked me to, but that was because I wanted to keep Dan and Anya out of harm's way. There really wasn't anything more to my decisions.

"Oh," Kasey exclaimed as I threw my jacket on the bed. "May I ask that you take off your turtleneck now? I don't want it to ruin the makeup."

My hand went to the collar of my turtleneck, self-consciously as my pin-pricks reacted negatively. "Right now?" I asked, despite knowing the answer.

Kasey nodded. "I'm really sorry. It would smear the makeup, is all…" Their voice trailed off as they read my expression. Or maybe they were having second thoughts. I couldn't really be sure because I wasn't really sure what I was feeling at the moment. "Or, y'know, we could work around it, if you would prefer to keep it on—"

"It's fine," I interrupted. Not harshly, but if I was going to have to change into one of the dresses on that rack anyway, I'd be taking my turtleneck off, regardless. So, it's not like it mattered when that happened.

"Uh," Kasey began but I was already lifting my turtleneck over my head. I, of course, always had a tank top underneath, but that was obviously more revealing than a turtleneck. In fact, it showed basically all the biggest scars I'd acquired very blatantly.

I held my breath, keeping my eyes focused on the turtleneck in my hands as I threw it onto my jacket. I cleared my throat out of awkwardness as I forced myself to look back at Kasey.

Their brown eyes had gone wide, and I could tell they wondered about my scars. I mean, who wouldn't. I braced myself for the questions, but they swallowed again and awkwardly gestured to the vanity chair silently. I let out the breath I was holding in quietly, before going to sit down in the seat, wishing I had a pair of sunglasses. Though, that would also not really help with the whole makeup thing.

Kasey hadn't gotten very far before I couldn't sit quietly, knowing they were in pain any longer. And they gave me an opening, when they had to reach over me and across the vanity for something in their makeup bag. They winced visibly, before swiftly pulling back and turning away to cradle their side.

I turned in my chair to look at them. "Are you okay?" I asked.

Kasey's shoulders rose and fell rapidly as they tried to breathe through the pain, before turning back toward me with a strained smile. "I'm fine."

"That didn't look fine," I commented.

"It's nothing, really," they said, their smile growing bigger as they brushed their side. "I'm lucky to be here. I don't want to ruin it. I just want to focus on you."

I frowned. "Lucky to be here?"

Their smile dropped and they blinked, like they hadn't realized they'd said that. "Oh." Their face flushed, and despite their pain, they looked away in…embarrassment? Their eyes flickered to the door, before they stepped closer to me, gesturing for me to turn back and face the mirror. I looked at them skeptically, but they gestured again, more insistent.

Wondering what was up, I turned. They stepped to my other side, closer to their makeup bag and pulled out a brush. I vaguely wondered if they would give me a moment to take some pain pills because this alone had my pin-pricks working up a storm. I hated to think how the rest of the night would go.

"Don't tell anyone I told you this," they began quietly, as they continued to rummage through their bag. "But there are a lot of demigods who work for the emperors vying for the chance to meet you in person."

"…what?" was all I could manage.

Kasey set out a box of some kind, opening it up to reveal squares of color in all sorts of varying shades. They pretended to examine it, looking back and forth from it, to me.

"Your reputation proceeds you," They continued in that low voice. "You and Luke, leading a revolution against the gods? For demigods?" They looked at me. "You're kind of a legend." Their voice got even quieter. "We thought you were dead for a long time."—We? I thought. But Kasey continued—"Well, I never did. But others thought the gods had killed you like the rest of the demigods who'd joined Kronos's side. I knew the rumors about you still being around were true."

They smiled then, and to my utter shock, they actually looked pleased. Happy, even, that they had been right.

"Ah, here we go," they said in a louder, more chipper voice. "This should do it." They began to get back to work, bringing the brush to my face, not even giving me time to fully comprehend everything they had just said. But I reached up to grip their wrist before they could continue their work. (So far, they'd laid down foundation and primed my eyes.)

"How did you get that wound?" I asked, deciding to focus on the whole reason this conversation had started. I would unpack everything else later. I had too much on my mind right now to get caught up in whatever else they'd just said.

Kasey looked embarrassed again. "Commodus forced us to fight in a double-elimination tournament. So, I battled my way through quite a few people to get here." They chuckled breezily but I was horrified; my prickles grew almost getting to the point where I had to split my focus. "That last person had also fought quite a few people, so they were a lot harder to beat. Gave me the wound I have now. But it was worth it. To be able to see you. Talk to you."

When they noticed my horrified expression in the mirror, their smile dropped, and they pulled their hand out of my grasp.

"That upsets you." It didn't sound like a question, but their eyebrows were furrowed.

"Why would he do that?" I asked.

Kasey shrugged. "It's just how the emperors are. I'm a child of Aphrodite, but they teach any demigod how to fight."

"How did you end up here? With the emperors?"

I saw something I hadn't seen in a long time flare in Kasey's dark eyes: anger, rage, hate. For a moment, I saw Luke standing behind them, with the same dark expression.

"Aphrodite"—they sneered this—"abandoned me and my mom. And when my mom got sick, and I prayed to her, do you know what she did?"

"Nothing," I murmured, looking down at the hands in my lap.

Kasey nodded stiffly. "Triumvirate found me before I had to suffer in the foster system. They housed me, gave me food, and clothes. They taught me to fight, to defend and protect myself, and those I care about."

I didn't know what to say to that. In truth, I wanted to weep. I felt my eyes sting and tried to blink away any tears that were trying to form. I felt that old anger at the gods still burning in me roar to life. The old anger that Luke had—that I now carried for both of us.

"That's why I couldn't give up the hope that you were still alive," Kasey said, breaking me from my thoughts. I looked up from my lap and met Kasey's eyes through the mirror, now filled with determination. I'm not sure what for, because I wasn't sure what I could even do to help them. Right now, or in the future. Were they hoping for another revolution?

How could they feel such conviction toward me when 1) we had never met, 2) all they'd heard about me were through other people, apparently, and 3) Luke was dead and the gods had thoroughly stomped out any chance for any kind of demigod rebellion?

What did they honestly think I could still do now? Did rumors about my punishment from the gods float around, too?

Or was it just the one rumor that I had been killed that did?

But if they believed I was still alive, surely that meant there were other rumors about.

And now, I had to split my focus, and hope the pain meds I'd take later would actually work. Sometimes, when my chronic pain got like this, the meds didn't do anything.

I didn't have time for this!

I tried to grasp onto any fleeting thought I could, but Kasey's words, all the information they had just unknowingly dumped on me, was making the world feel like it was tilting. How was I to respond to any of that?

It didn't feel right to lecture them about how bad the emperors were. Or that I was trapped under their thumb. Or let them know about the resistance.

I had seen this so many times—a wounded and angry demigod, begging for help from their godly parent, only to get radio silence in return. Of course it was still happening! But…confronting it so suddenly, after months of not seeing it was…dizzying, to say the least. More so because of the way they talked about me, but I also felt a little ashamed. That I had ignored them for so long—opted to try and get away from my demigod life. At the same time, it wasn't my duty to lead them into battle against the gods!

All I'd done was fall in love.

I tried to shake off my thoughts, standing and turning to face Kasey. "Let me check your wound."

Kasey blinked, but stepped back, looking sheepish again. "Oh, no. That would be inappropriate. Commodus instructed me to help you get ready for the dinner. That's all."

I tried to soften my expression and my tone, tramping down on whatever else I may have been feeling in that moment (and my pin-pricks). "Please?" I asked.

That seemed to do the trick. Kasey tried to weakly object, but I kept giving them a pleading look and they very quickly relented, nodding.

"Thank you," I said, as genuinely as I could. I gestured to the bed. "Please, have a seat."

Kasey stiffly stepped over to the bed, perching on the edge. I sat down next to them, but gave them a few inches of space, so it wouldn't feel like I was crowding them.

"May I see it?" I asked, gesturing to their side.

They flushed but nodded mutely, carefully lifting their shirt. It looked like they'd been stabbed with a dagger, perhaps? It was bandaged, but blood was soaking through the gauze. I shifted slightly closer.

"Alright if I touch you?" I asked.

They flushed harder, but nodded again. Slowly, with gentle hands, I removed the gauze. No exit wound, so either the dagger was short, or their attacker hadn't been able to stab them fully.

I had to shift slightly closer, letting my hand hover over the wound. I closed my eyes and began to sing. Much like with the Minotaur, it wasn't so much a healing song, per se, but I felt it still got the message across. In a bit of a tangential way. The song was called, "King" by Lauren Aquilina.

When I was done, I felt nearly as drained as I had when I'd helped the Minotaur. My chronic pain was worse, now. I was able to sit up without putting my arms out though, which was good, because I didn't want to collapse in front of Kasey. I probably should have thought that through more, given how I felt after helping the Minotaur.

I opened my eyes, and sat back. Kasey was looking down at their side with wide eyes and a slack jaw.

"The rumors are true," they whispered, looking up at me and lowering their shirt. Their eyes now held something else in them—some kind of awe, and wonder.

"Um," I stuttered, not liking this kind of attention. I put a pin in their "rumors" comment; threw it in with the rest of the information they'd dropped on me tonight. "Let me take some pain meds," I said weakly. "Then we should get back to…" I trailed off and gestured to the vanity.

Kasey blinked. "Oh. Yes, of course!" They stood, their complexion much better. "I'll get the meds for you." Before I could protest, they went into the bathroom, returning a few moments later with four pills and a small cup of water.

"Thank you," I murmured, quickly downing the meds. Trying not to let it show how much that healing had taken from me, I slowly stood, feeling lightheaded, my prickles very annoyed, and shuffled my way back to the chair, carefully sliding into it.

After makeup, they worked on braiding my hair, but in a very different style than I usually did. They started at my widow's peak, and French braided it curving across my crown, then curving the opposite way, down at the back of my head. It felt incredibly loose, until I saw Kasey started to pull at the braided strands gently, fanning the hair out. Then they carefully looped the braid around itself, pinning it to the back of my head.

By this time, the meds had, mercifully, kicked in. My pin-pricks weren't where I would've liked them, but at least I could hold a conversation. And I didn't have to split my focus.

Kasey gave me a mirror to see the back and I gasped. They had braided it so it looked like a blooming flower. I was very impressed, and also extremely annoyed that such a pretty hairstyle was going to be wasted on a dinner I did not want to attend in any capacity.

After showering Kasey in compliments, it was time for the final touch: the dress (and shoes, but those were tangential).

Usually, you'd want to do makeup after the dress, to match the style. However, when Kasey had finished painting my face, I realized they had done this first, because once I was able to get a good look at the dresses, I realized they were all some varying shade of red.

I thought that very strange, but I didn't have time to think about that too much. The dinner would be starting soon. Unfortunately, for me, as I looked through them, I began to sense a pattern—none of them really had any sleeves that would cover my arms or my shoulders (or my neck), and a most, if not all of them, were backless.

With the clock ticking down, I begrudgingly chose the one I thought was the prettiest. If this were any other situation, and without my scars, it would be the dress I'd pick out to wear.

I went into the ensuite bathroom to get changed.

I leaned against the door, sighing heavily, the dress draped over my arm.

Why was Commodus going to all this trouble? Why did he insist I play dress up? This seemed a bit too much. Then again, thinking about the way he'd been dressed when we saw him, I suppose that was just his thing.

I hung the hanger on a hook next to the door and stepped back to just take the dress in fully. It was red, as I mentioned, but the design from the last red dress I'd donned couldn't have been more different.

The skirt of the dress went from the waist down, so the fabric was fuller. Not quite Cinderella, but half-way there. About one-third of the bottom was taken up by flowers made from fabric, the same red of the dress, but completely opaque, sewn on, and interspersed. They didn't completely take up the last third of the skirt, but there were a lot of them.

The bodice was decorated with jewels and thin lines of black fabric that sparkled in a pattern that resembled diamonds. Confusingly, the sleeves, or what was left of them, hung loosely at the sides, and it took me a moment to realize that thin straps of skin-toned fabric were what was holding the dress to the hanger. (And what would most likely keep the dress on me. At least it wasn't strapless and the straps were actually the brown of my skin tone; I had to take the small victories where I could.)

Biting down on a groan, I finally undressed to just my undergarments and took the dress off the hook. I carefully slipped into it, slowly putting my arms through the sleeves (or what I was pretty sure were the sleeves, because the design was confusing me), and pulling the straps of fabric up over my shoulders.

Looking at it on me now, I realized that the "sleeves" were supposed to be off-the-shoulder, limply hanging against my forearms. They looked to be made of sheer, red fabric, which cascaded in a train all the way to floor. The very tops of the "sleeves" were decorated similarly to the bodice.

Then I realized this hid absolutely none of the scars I wanted to keep hidden most.

I felt a hot burst of anger in my chest, followed by my growing prickles, but tramped down on it. There was no use. Even if I had a choice, I would still do it because it would keep Dan and Anya safe. And help the resistance. I only hope Ellery and Huixing were having a better time than I. And that they were successful in escaping their blemmyae babysitters. (Maybe the intel they found would also help me brainstorm an idea to set Audrey II free without getting my brother and his fiancée killed.)

Still, looking at myself in the mirror, I couldn't help but shake my head. What was I doing here? How was I part of Triumvirate by playing dress up with the emperors? How was I a valuable asset to the resistance wearing ballgowns and dining with murderous, ruthless rulers? It was so pathetic!

How was I being useful to anyone doing any of this?

Someone knocked lightly on the bathroom door.

I tried not to sigh too loudly before responding, "Coming," before they could say anything.

I quickly zipped up the dress (one of the backless ones), and turned away from the mirror. I took four more pain pills, then slid into the glossy red flats (another small victory) and took a deep breath before opening the door.

When Kasey saw me, their eyes went wide, and they sucked in a small breath.

"Oh, wow," they breathed.

I held up a hand. "Please. I don't…" I trailed off, not really sure what I was going to say, but Kasey seemed to understand. They quickly masked their expression.

"Some blemmyae are waiting outside for you," Kasey said. "I'll be hanging back and clean up." They paused. "Thank you. For healing me."

"Of course," I said. They stepped to the side.

I took another deep breath, gripped the skirt of my dress to keep my hands from shaking, and started to the door. Half-way there, one of my knives caught the light of the vanity. I threw a glance to Kasey, just to see if they were watching me (they were; though this was a small room, so I guess I couldn't be surprised), before pulling the belt from my jacket and attaching it to my ankle. I say ankle, but it nearly went up to my knee, but I felt more comfortable with my knives on my person already.

I nodded at Kasey as I stood, before exiting the room.

The blemmyae butlers led me to the dining room that Ellery, Huixing, and I had eaten in before. Except now it felt far too big and far too empty with just me and Commodus. There were, of course, the other blemmyae servants, as well, but they stood at the edges of the room, silent.

Commodus had also replaced the long, rectangular table with a single circular one. A table that was big enough to fit at least eight people, and only one in the center of the room. It felt more like a ballroom than a dining room with the table and chairs moved out.

The table was set for dinner, but no food was on them. Commodus already sat at the table when I entered, but he stood and faced me when I paused at the threshold. And honestly, facing him again made me feeling like my scars being on display was the least of my worries right now.

I was surprised to see he was no longer in his formal, purple emperor robes and was now dressed in an incredibly modern, extremely formal suit. If I had to guess, he was dressed for a white tie occasion. The suit jacket and pants were, however, purple, like his robes had been earlier. And he still wore laurels in his hair.

I was about to step in when I saw a sheathed sword sitting against the side of the table. A chill ran down my spine, and my prickles burst once again, when I realized it was the sword I had brought with me. At some point, he must've taken it from the room he'd assigned us. Well, one of his servants anyway. I really should've kept a better eye on it, but with my throwing knives nearly always on me, I hadn't really thought about it, since I used them a lot more often now.

I, of course, still kept my sword skills sharp (pun intended). It was just no longer my first choice of weapon.

"Please," he called, noticing my hesitation. He gestured to room. "Come in."

Flitting through a list of coping mechanisms Rowan and I had practiced, I began to walk toward the table.

Commodus stood as the blemmyae led me in, grinning at me, a spark in his eyes that made me suspicious and on edge. I simply stared back at him, unsure of what to do.

I knew he had mentioned he wanted to hear me sing. But he also mentioned dinner? But there was no food on the plates. And what was my sword doing here? Maybe it should've been obvious what he wanted from me at this moment, but I was still weak from healing Kasey. My stomach felt painfully hollow, which could've been hunger or could have been anxiety. It was all I could do to keep myself from turning heel and sprinting as far away from Commodus as I could.

"Good evening," he greeted, still grinning. "Please." He gestured into the dining room, beckoning me closer.

I swallowed hard and forced my feet to move. Just one slow and careful step at a time.

"I thought you…wanted to hear me sing?" I asked, as I got closer, keeping several feet between us, and one eye on my sword.

Commodus nodded. "Yes, but instruments, microphones, speakers—they would distort your voice. I want to hear your voice, and your voice only."

Any other time, I would have been flattered. In fact, I would have appreciated that sentiment (not to say that having those additions took away from a song, of course). But coming from him, the tone of his voice, the way he smiled, the glint in his eyes, it only unnerved me more.

Faster than I was anticipating, Commodus moved. I tensed, my prickles responding, but he brushed past me and pulled out the chair, opposite his. He gestured to the seat silently. My stomach knotted. I stared at the chair, not wanting to get any closer to him than I already was, but he was staring at me expectantly.

Steeling my nerves, I went to stiffly sit down. When he leaned over my shoulder, I froze, digging my hands into the skirt of my dress. If Commodus noticed, which I was sure he had because my hands were sitting in my lap, he didn't comment on it.

Instead, he asked, in a low voice, right in my ear, "You can do that. Right?"

I nodded once, gritting my teeth. "Of course."

"Good."

He pulled away and went to sit down in his own chair, opposite mine. I let out a slow breath, trying to quickly go through one of the coping mechanisms Rowan had taught me so my voice wouldn't shake when I sang.

"Do you have a request?" I asked, once Commodus was seated and comfortable.

"I'll let you choose."

I nodded. I took a deep breath, trying to get my heart to stop racing so fast. My hands still trembled, but again, that could've been hunger, fatigue, anxiety. I gathered the fabric of my dress in my hands to try and keep them still. I had to look down. Commodus's gaze was fixed on me and it was difficult to keep. I closed my eyes to further block everything else out.

I sang, "Wake Me Up" by Avicii. For as upbeat as the song was, there was an aching melancholy to the lyrics.

By the time I finished, my hands had stopped shaking, relaxing in my lap. Singing calmed me; it was good therapy. Maybe I should try it more often.

Slowly, I lifted my gaze. Commodus still had his eyes on me, but that glint that set my nerves on edge had softened. It almost looked like he was…studying me.

He shifted in his chair, sitting up straighter. I jumped.

"Shall we eat?" he asked in a low voice.

I blinked. "S-sure."

Commodus made a "come here" gesture and some blemmyae appeared with our dishes.

I looked down at the plate full of what looked to a fettuccine alfredo dish. There were pink pieces of food that, after a moment of staring, looked to be salmon. On the side was pan-fried asparagus, which actually smelled delicious.

My stomach growled as the smell of the alfredo wafted toward me, and I hoped beyond hope Commodus hadn't heard it. Despite this, I glanced up at Commodus to see if he had begun eating, and jolted when I met his eyes.

"Ladies first," he said, gesturing to my plate.

I tried not to make a face, and keep my hand steady, as I reached for my fork and slowly swirled the pasta onto my fork. I took an experimental bite (again, not that I trusted anything from Commodus, but more so because I really had no other option). I don't know why I was so surprised that it actually tasted good, but I was. Of course, only the best for Commodus.

Not denying that it could've still been poison, though.

After my second bite, Commodus finally began eating, as well.

I ate slowly, trying not to let it show how hungry I was. How weak I still felt from healing Kasey. Again, it wasn't so much due to my singing, but the fact that I had healed them with my singing. At least the pain meds seemed to be working to keep my pin-pricks at bay, despite my growing stress. For now.

Commodus finished before I did. After taking a sip of his wine (? It looked like wine; I also had a glass of wine but opted for my glass of water), he cleared his throat to get my attention. I set my fork aside, still chewing on the bite I'd just put in my mouth and looked at him warily.

He took the sword—my sword—that'd been sitting against the table near him and unsheathed it slightly, to get a glimpse of the blade within.

"I see you aren't using the gift we gave you," he commented, eyes raking over the sword, before he sheathed it again, setting it against his chair. "Seems a little ungrateful, considering the work put into it."

"You say that like you personally worked on it," I said, trying to keep my anger in check.

"Do you prefer your throwing knives more now?" Commodus asked, ignoring my comment. Probably for the best. I really shouldn't have been getting into fights with the emperors.

"I do, but I make sure to keep my sword skills up to task," I said. "I can't always rely on my long-range weapons."

Commodus hummed. I couldn't tell if he was agreeing me, and his expression had become weirdly intense again. "You were taught by the best swordsman, as well. Is that why you preferred your sword more in the past? Or perhaps you didn't like using long-range weapons because of who your father is?"

I gritted my teeth but shrugged, not dignifying his questions with a response. Spoke too soon about the pain meds.

"Would you prefer a set of throwing knives made like the sword we presented to you?" Commodus asked, cocking his head to the side.

"No," I objected vehemently. "I don't want—" I broke off, trying to get a handle on my tone. "I appreciate the offer, but I have to respectfully decline." I paused. "It's not the sword, it's the method you used to create it."

"And if we commanded you," Commodus said. "Threatened to kill your brother if you didn't use our gift?"

My knuckles turned white as I dug my fingers into the skirt of the dress, but tried to keep my body relaxed otherwise. Tonight was definitely going to be a bad night for my prickles.

"You would go to so much trouble just because I won't use a sword?" I asked. "Seems like such a frivolous thing. You said so yourself, it was a gift. I get to choose what I do with it."

"And what have you done with it?"

I paused, shifting uncomfortably.

Some kind of interest sparked in Commodus's eyes. "You haven't gotten rid of it? You still keep it, despite how much you despise it?"

I didn't know how to answer because, truth be told, I didn't really know why I still kept it, either. Maybe out of some weird, twisted sentimentality. But…other than that, I had no idea why I hadn't had an Hephaestus kids melt it down. Especially since it came from them, the emperors, after I'd "joined" Triumvirate.

"No matter," Commodus boomed, jolting me from my thoughts. He waved his hand, suddenly dismissive, and sat forward. "There is something else I would like to address with you."

I tensed, trying to mentally prepare myself for whatever was about to happen. Commodus's tone set off alarm bells in my mind. And I didn't like the amused glint in his eye.

The last time this had happened, I found out Dan and Anya's lives were being threatened. My prickles burst at that memory, and the sudden anxiety that Commodus was about to bring them in. For what purpose, I was unsure, but I didn't want either of them anywhere near any of the emperors.

Or maybe Ellery and Huixing had been caught snooping around the palace? I tried not to leap out of my chair right then and there to go search for them. That would also be very bad. I wasn't quite sure what kind of person Commodus was yet, so I didn't know what would happen to them if they had been caught.

I'd only met Nero once, but he exuded an air of leadership. Despite this being a triumvirate, I could tell that Nero headed the cause and the company. He was the one who looked after his "children" of the imperial household. I had not met Caligula, but after reading up on stories about him, I knew he could be volatile. So, I hoped to never have to meet him.

Commodus was hard to read for me. I, of course, familiarized myself with his stories (as mentioned), as well, after joining the resistance, but none of the stories could have prepared me for this. He seemed incredibly different than what I'd read. Something had shattered inside him, and he had not picked up the pieces from it. But I didn't know what had led to what I was seeing.

He seemed chaotic in a way that Caligula wasn't. Caligula may have been cruel, but he was predictable in his cruelty. In his stories at least. Commodus was a true wild card. I never knew what emotions to expect out of him; how he might react to something. (It was in this moment I was truly aware of what Annabeth meant when she'd called me a wild card.)

"Bring them," Commodus called, not taking his eyes off me. I swallowed, not wanting to take my eyes away from Commodus, but also wanting to look at the door, to see who was coming in.

When movement caught my eye, I finally tore my eyes away and looked at the door.

To my surprise and horror, my prickles rising in response, two Germani entered with Kasey between them. Kasey, understandably, looked nervous. Sweat was already beading on their forehead. As the germani led them toward us, Commodus, who had turned to look, turned back to me.

"I heard you healed Kasey," he said.

"And what of it?" I asked, glaring at him, curling my hands into fists in my lap. The germani stopped on my left (Commodus's right), a few feet away, in good view for both of us.

"It's a sign of weakness," he said. "Needing the help of others, rather than fighting through the pain. There is a reason Kasey did not take any ambrosia."

"I think it's a sign of strength," I replied, momentarily forgetting who I was speaking to. "To know when you need help, ask for it, and accept it."

Commodus blinked, like he hadn't been expecting that from me—either what I said or the fact that I responded at all. But his gaze hardened, and he said, "No matter. Kasey, will, of course have to be punished for this."

Just as he said this, a young teen boy walked through the door. He was muscular, with curly hair held back with a bandana. He wore a red and white Cornhusker's t-shirt—which kind of ruined his entrance—and jeans. A sword rested in its scabbard at his waist. And he had criss-crossing scars covering every inch of his exposed skin, even his face.

"What?" I shot up from my seat, watching as this new person went to stand at Commodus's right. "That's not fair! I…I'm the one who insisted. I basically had to force them to let me help."

Commodus scoffed, sneering at me. "So much for the strength of asking for help, hm? Regardless, the deed is done." He gestured to the new person. "This is Lityerses, Reaper of Men."

I vaguely recalled someone with that name from Leo, when he was telling me about his quest with Piper and Jason to rescue Juno. But, again, a lot had happened since then, so any memory that might be helpful facing him was gone. Not that I really wanted to get into a fight right now, but the way Lityerses was grinning definitely made me think one could easily break out at any moment.

"He's my new Prefect," Commodus continued. "Lit, this is Victoria. You may know her as, Seirína."

Literyses snorted. "A song isn't going to do much to me."

I glared at him, annoyed with how Commodus had introduced me. Especially since he knew I had gone through Triumvirate's rigorous training, as any demigod working for them had to. And Commodus knew that.

It's a ploy, the voice that sounded like Luke spoke in my head.

Wait. Commodus had purposefully introduced me like that. To make Literyses put his guard down with me? But why? Was this some kind of test for his new Prefect? A test for me? Did he know I currently had my throwing knives on me? If Literyses worked for the emperors, wouldn't he know that all their demigods were trained by only the best?

That didn't matter. I didn't have time to think about it too much because Commodus spoke, breaking me from my spinning thoughts.

"Literyses, behead Kasey," Commodus said, with a nonchalant air.

I barely had time to gasp, let alone say anything more, before Literyses had moved to stand behind Kasey. And now I had to split my focus between this and trying to push away my pin-pricks.

The germani forced Kasey to their knees, who only struggled a little, as Literyses raised his sword. I was surprised they weren't making more of a fuss, but maybe that's because they weren't me. Or because, despite them being a Greek demigod, they had been raised under Roman ideals.

"No!" I growled, shoving my chair back so I could reach for my throwing knives, and without thinking, threw it at Literyses's hand.

To my shock, Literyses was fast enough to use the momentum he'd built up to behead Kasey, divert its direction, and parry my knife. I quickly got over this, however, and threw a volley of knives at him and the germani, just enough to make him and the germni step back. I rushed forward, grabbing Kasey's now free arm, and dragged them away from Literyses, the germani guards, and Commodus, putting myself between Kasey and the rest of them.

I brandished what throwing knives I had left, but didn't have time to call any of the others back to me, because Literyses had already stepped past the germani.

He was faster than I'd ever seen any swordsman, and that scared me. Thankfully, I didn't really have time to be scared or think.

I shoved Kasey back further, just managing to dodge Literyses's swing at me. But I couldn't go on offense because he was too fast.

I turned to face him fully, but he nicked my upper forearm. I gritted my teeth, my prickles expanding.

I managed to dodge his next strike—one aiming for my head.

But as I straightened up, he swiped at my hand, cutting me and knocking my throwing knife out of it. I cursed.

I tried to go low, but he anticipated that and caught me in the side.

That one was more painful; harder to ignore.

With a pained gasp, one of my knees buckled, and my free hand went to my side. I felt the warm blood begin to pool there, spreading out against the red fabric of my dress. Though, that could have also been from my bleeding hand, as well. I still stubbornly held onto my throwing knife in my left hand.

Literyses had paused his onslaught. To gloat? I wasn't sure, but the smirk he gave me when I met his eyes made me think so.

"This is why they call me Reaper of Men," he said before swinging his sword toward me neck again.

"Tori!" Kasey gasped from behind me.

Quicker than I'd ever moved before, I grabbed the last of my throwing knives from my ankle and held it up, the spine of the blade against my arm, blocking his strike. I ignored how the burning pain in my hand and my side flared; how my prickles roared.

I met Literyses's eyes again, glaring at him. His eyes widened in shock.

Not giving him a chance to recuperate, I stood, dragging my blade against his, locking my blade with his hilt as I got to full height, and throwing out my other dagger at his neck. He tried to extricate our blades, but when he realized he couldn't, with a grunt, he stumbled back, his sword clattering to the floor.

We were both breathing heavily, but his was due to his anger. Mine was due to my open and actively bleeding wounds.

A thin line of blood beaded at his neck. He blinked, like he was questioning if he was felt that right. He quickly reached up to wipe at it, his hand coming away with a smear of blood.

His surprise quickly faded into that anger before, and his eyes flickered to his sword, but I stepped over it, concealing it with the skirt of my dress. I gripped my throwing knives, the blood from my right hand dribbling down the blade and spattering onto the floor.

I saw Literyses tense, and I held my breath, preparing for his attack, but Commodus interrupted.

"That's enough," he said.

Literyses's hands furled into tights fists. "Sir," he spat through gritted teeth, not taking his eyes off me. It didn't sound like a question, but I could tell it was one.

So could Commodus.

"Questioning my judgement?" Commodus asked, his voice becoming dangerous.

Literyses's eyes blazed with fury toward me, but he managed to ground out, "No, sir."

Commodus stood, his eyes now on me. There was new interest now mixed with that intense look he'd been giving me these past few days.

"Take Kasey to the prisons," he said. "I will escort Victoria to the infirmary."

The germani, who'd stood and watched that whole altercation because they had not been ordered to do anything else, now moved, going over to Kasey.

I glared at Commodus, still gripping my throwing knives.

"If you hurt—" I began.

Commodus waved his hand. "Kasey will not be harmed." He stood slowly as the germani led Kasey past me. We briefly locked eyes, but Commodus's voice brought my attention back to him. "For now."

I frowned but before I could ask him what that was supposed to mean, the energy drained from me, my prickles taking the place of the adrenaline that had been rushing through my body a moment ago. My throwing knives clattered to the floor. I nearly took a spill but suddenly Commodus was there, stabilizing me.

I wanted to pull away in disgust, but it wasn't like I was in any position to actually do so. His grip was firm, but surprisingly and startingly gentle, as he righted me, linking his arm with mine. I had no choice but to lean against him for support, lest I wanted him to carry me. Leaning against him seemed like the least worst option out of two very bad options at the moment. Unfortunately

We slowly began forward, toward the exit. I was too tired to worry about my knives, and too much in pain to care. But if Commodus was so obsessed with what weapons I used, I had a feeling he would get one of his staff to gather them and bring them back to me.

I wanted to move as fast as possible, so I wouldn't have to be this close to Commodus for a long period of time, but it was all I could do to simply stay on my feet. Blackness was slowly and steadily encroaching my vision. I could feel my heart pounding irregularly in my chest. My ears rang. My prickles threatened to completely engulf me—it was a miracle they hadn't yet. I just wanted to lie down and go to sleep.

My side and my hand continued to slowly bleed, and I got a small grim satisfaction that I was dripping all over his hallways. I knew it would just be cleaned up and disappear, but I pretended like it mattered to him.

Commodus's low, rumbling voice stirred me from my half-dead state.

"You're rather quiet," he said. "After all that."

I wanted to glare at him, but I was concentrating too hard on keeping my chronic pain at bay and putting one foot in front of the other.

"I'm focusing on staying awake," I spat through gritted teeth.

Commodus chuckled. "What? You don't trust me to carry you if you pass out?"

"I don't trust you at all," I retorted.

Commodus chuckled again but was silent the rest of the way to the infirmary. I half-sat, half-collapsed onto a cot once there. Despite what I had told him, I had to wait as he strolled over to a storage cabinet and pulled out the food of the gods. I briefly wondered why he was doing all this, considering he had been lecturing me not a moment ago about how Roman warriors, or whatever, didn't need ambrosia, and in fact, shouldn't take ambrosia when wounded.

He handed me a small baggie of ambrosia, and while I ate some of it, he took my other hand and poured nectar over my wound, letting the nectar spill onto the floor. (Well, there went my hope that he would be bothered about blood in the hallways.) I felt my side stitch back together as the throbbing stopped in my hand, the blood washed away by the nectar. My pin-pricks went completely silent before starting back up again at a level I could handle.

I was still exhausted, though.

So exhausted it took me a moment to realize Commodus was still holding my hand. When I looked up at him, his eyes swirled with that strange, intense look I couldn't decipher. And it wasn't until he stroked his thumb across my fractal scar, did I realize what he was staring at.

I jolted, pulled my hand from his, frowning. That's when I realized I'd been so focused on everything else, I'd completely forgotten my scars had been showing at all. It also made me wonder how Lit hadn't seemed to notice. You'd think someone with that many scars would understand someone else with scars (albeit, in less numbers) would also potentially be formidable.

Commodus's eyes met mine as he let his arms drops to his sides.

I felt my heartrate begin to creep up again the longer he stood over me. It didn't feel menacing, necessarily, but the expression on his face was unnerving me. It was just…intense. I know I kept saying that, but there was no other way I could describe it.

"You have a question for me," he said, breaking the long silence. When I didn't respond, he followed up with, "Ask it."

I stared up at him, heart beat still steadily climbing, and with it, my prickles (of course). "Why did you bring me here?"

Commodus was quite for a moment. Something I didn't really associate with him.

"How much do you know about your father and I's…relationship?" he finally asked.

I shook my head, not liking the glint that had appeared in Commodus's eyes. Now I was starting to feel like a trapped animal, afraid any sudden movement would get me noticed and killed.

Though, it didn't really end up mattering anyway, because Commodus leaned forward, forcing me back, as he put his hands on either side of me. I put an arm out to keep myself somewhat upright, propped up on my elbow. The second rush of adrenaline the only thing holding me up at that moment. My prickles began steadily rising as my heart began racing.

"Do you know how your father and I's love affair ended, Seirína?" he asked, as he loomed over me.

I continued to force air in and out of my lungs, trying to fight away the panic that was building in my chest.

Commodus took my silence as a no. He slowly reached up, brushing his thumb against my cheek. I tried not to wince away, though my breathing became shallow. Then, he let his hand come to a rest against my throat.

I froze completely, holding my breath. What was he doing?

"He drowned and strangled me," Commodus said, his voice catching on "drowned" and "strangled."

There was pain, and immense anger, but I could hear the hurt underneath it all. Maybe it was just me, but I could see it swirling in his blue eyes—centuries upon centuries of a held grudge that stemmed from the ultimate betrayal. It was no wonder he seemed not all there. Though, I supposed, he was a bit of a mad emperor in his time, too.

"I knew Apollo would arrive soon," Commodus continued, his hand still at my throat. Just resting there for now, but I wasn't sure how long that was going to last.

My arm ached, as I continued to hold myself up. I forced small breaths through my gritted teeth.

"My oracle told me as much," Commodus continued, his eyes boring into mine. "I invited you here because I want to hurt him. Like he hurt me. And I know how much of a soft spot he has for his children. His bleeding heart."

Despite my current predicament, probably due to how exhausted I was, a question, unbidden, came spilling out before I had to time to filter it, "How do you know?"

Commodus blinked, that slightly crazed look vanishing from his expression as he regarded me. "What?" His hand fell away from my throat as he stood and stepped back.

I painfully straightened up. "How do you know he'll care if you hurt me?" I repeated.

Commodus laughed, but I could tell it was out of confusion and surprise. With that unnatural speed, he stepped toward me again, grabbing my left hand and pulling me away from the cot. His other arm came around my waist (I tensed when I felt the fabric of his suit against my bare back), and he held me like we were about to start dancing. I tried not to squirm away from him, afraid that might upset him, but also not wanting to be this close to him.

"What a question," he breathed, looking down at me. "What could have convinced you of that?"

A picture of Meg popped into my head almost immediately. It was irrational, I know, but I…just couldn't get over how desperate Apollo had sounded that day he went to search for Meg.

Where had that person been for me? For the rest of his children? If Commodus was right?

I don't know what my expression was doing but Commodus was studying me again. He hummed after a moment, gently spinning me. I was too dazed, both from his demeanor and from my own tiredness, to rightly try and step away from him. I was going to down maybe 6 pain meds and then collapse in a heap onto the bed. I didn't think I would have the energy to change, much less the time, before my body forced me to rest.

Commodus pulled me into him again, my back pressed against his chest. He was holding both my hands now, but my arms were crossed over my middle.

Commodus leaned down to murmur in my ear, "Why don't we find out just how much he cares, then, shall we? Seirína?"

O-kay! A long chapter with slightly more plot! Whoo!

Love how I lie all the time. I was unable to keep a chapter ahead, as I did not have the energy to work on the next chapter this week. But oh well, we continue forward.

Back to sporadic updates, friends

As always, I hope you enjoyed! Commends are much appreciated! ^_^

Thank you for reading,
thebrightestnight