Page 13 of Thawed Gladiator: Victor

The suggestion sends heat flooding my face. Share her bed? The impropriety… I shouldn’t even be alone in a room with an unmarried woman. Although her practical solution carries its own logic, I remain kneeling and my voice drops as I say, “That would be even more inappropriate,Domina.”

“Maya,” she corrects softly. “And what’s inappropriate is watching you sleeping on a hard floor when there’s a perfectly good bed available.” She runs a hand through her hair, frustration evident. “Fine. Here’s the deal—you take the bed tonight since you’re still healing. Once you’re stronger, we can revisit the sleeping arrangements.”

It’s a tactical compromise, acknowledging both my concern for her comfort and her worry for my health. Father would approve of such diplomatic navigation. Still…

“One night only,” I concede finally. “Tomorrow, we find a better solution.”

Relief floods her features. “Deal. Now please get up before you strain something.”

More mysteries to unravel. This woman who claims to own me, yet treats me with such care. Who tells me to call her by the name her father calls her. Who trains fighters yet fears for my safety. Who moves with a warrior’s grace but blushes at the thought of shared sleeping space.

The kitchen area draws my attention—familiar enough in purpose but filled with devices that might as well be magic. She demonstrates the “refrigerator,” a cold box that preserves food without ice.

“Take whatever you want.” She gestures to the “microwave,” telling me it heats food with invisible fire. “I’ll show you how to use it later.” And the mirror—there wasn’t one in the cabin—shows a reflection clearer than anything I saw in Greece or Rome. Is that man really me? I don’t know how I got here, but my image tells me I’m not the same man who set sail on theFortunain another part of the world.

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” she says softly, watching my reaction to each new wonder. “But you’re safe here. We both are, as long as…”

She doesn’t finish, but I understand. As long as I perform as Tony expects. As long as I fight in his underground games. As long as I don’t draw too much attention or ask too many questions.

A memory rises—another time I was expected to perform, another punishment for refusing. Standing in the scorching sun, arms outstretched, buckets of sand… No. That memory belongs to another life. I need to focus on the present.

“We’ll start training properly tomorrow,” she says, pulling me from dangerous recollections. “Light exercises at first, building your strength back gradually.”

A noise from the street draws us both to the window. Tony’s men, making another pass.Domina’sshoulders tense, and without thinking, I step between her and the window. She looks up at me, surprise flickering across her pretty features before being replaced by something softer yet more dangerous.

“You should rest,” she says, stepping back quickly. “Tomorrow will be difficult enough.”

I bow slightly, maintaining proper form despite our strange circumstances. “Gratias,Domina.”

“Maya,” she corrects softly. “Please… just Maya.”

The intimacy of the request sends heat through my chest. Another boundary crossed, another rule bent. Everything here defies my understanding—the machines, the endless items large and small that I can’t fathom, the complex web of obligations Maya seems caught in. And this? Her insistence that I break the code of a slave? Men have been killed for less.

But as I settle into the bed that still carries traces of her scent, one thing becomes clear. Whatever game Tony thinks he’s playing, whatever plans he has for using my fighting skills, he’s underestimated both Maya’s determination and my own.

The memory of the sun punishment tugs at my mind again, but I push it away. Those lessons in endurance will serve their purpose soon enough. Now, I need to put my efforts on regaining my strength, on understanding this new world, on protecting Maya from whatever threats Tony’s cold smile promised.

Sleep comes slowly, accompanied by the strange sounds of this odd world that no one in Rome could imagine—mechanical beasts prowling the streets below, the hum of fireless lights, the soft sounds of Maya moving in the other room.

Yet somehow, in this impossible place, I feel more myself than I have since Father’s death. Perhaps because, for the first time since then, I’m fighting for something more than mere survival.

Chapter Eleven

Victor

I bolt upright in the middle of the night, my breathing ragged as the vivid dream fades into wakefulness. It wasn’t merely a dream, but a memory so powerful it pulled me back through time—back to my punishment in theludus, feeling as real as the day it happened.

As my heartbeat steadies, I can still feel the phantom weight of those sand buckets hanging from my arms, still taste the bitter dust on my tongue. The memory rises unbidden, clear as yesterday though it happened years before the shipwreck.

Thelanista’sface twists with disgust as he circles my kneeling form. The coin of the Goddess Tyche hanging against my chest seems to burn—my last connection to my mother.

Before marriage to my philosopher father, she had served as the Goddess’s priestess, teaching me that fate’s wheel turns for all men. Her wisdom helped me endure the early days in theludus, though she and my sister had already been taken by fever two years before our family’s final fall.

“Five matches.” Thelanista’svoice is as furious and loud as if it’s happening to me now and not a memory. “Five victories. Five opponents left alive.” Each word drips with contempt. “Do you know how much money yourmercyhas cost me?”

My muscles ache from hours of training, but I maintain perfect posture, eyes forward as is expected of a good slave. “A gladiator’s purpose is to demonstrate skill and courage,Dominus. Death should be the last resort, not—”

The blow catches my jaw, snapping my head sideways. I taste blood, but don’t move to wipe it from my split lip.

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