“And I—I am free as well?”
She closed her eyes, savoring his question, and opening them again when she said, “Yes. Finally. After all of these centuries, you are now free. That is, if you choose to be. In the end, it’s up to you.”
“And our future?”
She smiled, eyes shining with hope and a surge of crystalline tears. “Ours to seize whenever we’re ready.”
He reached toward her, big, brutal hands cupping her cheeks with a tenderness I would’ve never imagined. Gazing upon her as though she was a precious mirage he feared would soon fade.
“And your uncle—he approves of our union, then?” His thumbs smoothed over her skin, his eyes fixed on hers as though no time had passed, as though he’d merely woken from a brief nap.
“No.” She shook her head, her fingers reaching up to meet his. “I’m afraid, he never came around to the idea. Though he’s hardly an issue anymore. The only thing that can stop us from moving forward, is you.”
“Me?” He stepped back, gazed around in confusion again, but only for a moment before the weight of his reality hit him. “Then it truly is over. I am no longer enslaved by your uncle—no longer enslaved by … them.” He gestured toward the empty stands. “And all of this—” He gazed down at his feet, kicked at the pile of rose petals he once held so dear, suddenly realizing he’d traded a love that’d never once faltered, for one that was as fickle as the wind.
“I should hope not,” she said. “But in the end, that is also up to you.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” he asked, moving toward her with purpose.
“We wait for nothing,” she said, smiling as she melted into his arms.
24
Theocoles walked alongside me as Messalina hung back with Bodhi and Buttercup. An arrangement I didn’t quite expect, but then again nothing was going as planned.
Even though I knew he had a soft side (after all, I’d seen it firsthand when I watched him in the ludus with Messalina), it was still kind of surprising to see how gentle he was. I mean, for a big, hulking, mass of a guy—one who definitely lived up to his nickname, Pillar of Doom, he spoke to me with such kindness, I had no doubt that the person I saw in the arena was more like a role he’d taken on in order to survive—a role that got away from him, sure—but it wasn’t who he really was deep down inside.
And while I was more than ready to make the shimmering golden veil right then and there, and send him directly from the arena to the bridge, Theocoles had been pent up in the ludus and Colosseum for so long, he wanted to see what had become of Rome before he moved on.
He wanted to see the real Rome—the modern Rome—the one with flushing toilets and running water.
Though as much as I preferred the new and improved, less barbaric version, Theocoles wasn’t quite so impressed.
“So, what do you think?” I asked, after having made a pretty good tour of the place.
He looked at me, shaking his head when he said, “This is how people dress?” He glanced around again, face dropping into a frown when he added, “I can hardly tell the women from the men!”
I rolled my eyes. I couldn’t help but take that personally since I’d ditched the baggy blue gown the first chance I got, exchanging it for jeans, a (super cute) tee, and ballet flats. And with my hair scraped into a ponytail, with my body back to its former stick-figure self, well, the statement felt like it was directed at me. Not to mention the fact that it came from a man who’d spent his entire life wearing a dress!
I shot him an injured look, saying, “Well, get used to it. Times have changed. Besides, not everyone can be as amazing as Messalina. Some of us are a little less fortunate in the girly department.”
“Messalina truly is the fairest of them all,” he said, gazing back at her to confirm it. Then returning to me, he added, “And you, Miss Riley Bloom, should not underestimate yourself—you may be young yet, but you show great promise.” He leaned down, flicked my ponytail, and sent it swinging back and forth, grinning at me in a way that made his topaz eyes twinkle and my throat go all tight and hot. The guy just oozed charm and charisma, he couldn’t help it, he was magnetic in every possible way.
“So, this is pretty much it,” I said, eager to cross him over and move on. “Old stuff, new stuff, cars, scooters, people, busy-busy-busy—seen enough?” We’d come full circle again and the Colosseum sat just behind us.
Theocoles squinted, looked all around, as Messalina and Bodhi continued to conference, the two of them whispering in a way that made me suspicious.
I was so focused on watching them, that when Theocoles looked at me and said, “What can I expect when I get there?” well, I wasn’t quite sure how to answer.
I took a moment to think about it, wondering how to best phrase it, just how much to reveal. I mean, I could give him a heads-up about the enlightening/mortifying life review process—I could tell him that he should definitely expect to be given an assignment of some kind—that it was nothing like the eternity of cloud lounging and harp lessons most people expect. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that wasn’t quite what he meant. Those weren’t the kinds of details he was interested in.
He was worried about the choices he’d made—the way he’d lived his life. This was a guy who’d left heaps of slain bodies in the arena, and he was worried if he might somehow have to pay for all that.
And while I really had no idea either way, I was able to say, “All I know for sure is that you will be met with an abundance of compassion, love, and understanding.” Remembering how I was the only one judging my actions in my own life review—I was the only one cringing at what I’d witnessed that day—the Council just wanted me to see my actions as clearly as they did.
Theocoles thought for a moment, then turning toward the Colosseum, he closed his eyes, threw his head back, and opened his arms wide, just like he did at each of his victories.
Though this time, it wasn’t the sound of applause, or adoration, or any of the usual things that he sought—this time he listened much deeper, listened for the truth that lurked in his heart.