Page 41 of House of Serpents and Slaves

"Your power has improved, but you need more precision," he observed, guiding me through the subtle adjustments necessary to land accurate hits.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, we transitioned to sparring. Marcus' strikes were swift and brutal, forcing me to rely on instinct to evade and counter. At first, he easily bested me, landing blow after blow. But with each fall, I rose again, learning from my mistakes and adapting to his movements.

"Stay low, Livia," he advised, swiping at my legs. I barely dodged, leaping to one side and retaliating with a swift punchto his ribs. He stepped back, surprise flickering across his face before he grinned. "Not bad."

"Thank you," I panted, a surge of pride swelling within me.

"Take a moment," Marcus said, tossing me a waterskin. We sat in companionable silence, our bodies slick with sweat and the aches of exertion. As I sipped from the waterskin, I couldn't help but think about the progress I had made in just one day under Marcus' tutelage.

"Marcus," I began, hesitating only briefly. "I wanted to thank you again for taking me on as your student. I know I still have much to learn, but I promise you won't regret it."

He looked at me, his gaze unreadable. "I believe in you, Livia. If I didn't, I wouldn't be here." His words were simple, yet they resonated deep within me, fueling my determination to become the best gladiator I could be.

"Tomorrow, we'll focus on footwork and defense," he continued, pointing out my weaknesses. "If you want to survive in the arena, you must learn to protect yourself."

"Understood," I nodded, my resolve unwavering.

As the rest of the gladiators began to show up to the arena, I stood, moving away from Marcus. I knew I had manipulated him a little to get here, but I didn't want the others to find out about that. I wasn't too proud of it, and to be honest, it had been on my mind since Septimus had accused me of it. I had taken advantage of him, but I’d found myself wandering past his room in the evenings, hoping he’d invite me in, slightly disappointed that he never had. Now he was my trainer, I wasn't even sure if we were allowed to see each other like that.

As the arena began to fill up, my heart pounded in my chest with a combination of excitement and fear. Trying not to give that away, I began to do some stretches with my sword. I was properly warmed up but we had been sitting for a while, and itgave my mind something to think about other than the curious eyes.

"Look at this one," a voice sneered from behind me. "She thinks she has what it takes to be a gladiator, but she could barely walk last night after training."

“Nah, that’ll be the fucking Drusus will have given her,” laughed another. “She’s been his favourite since she started her bleeding, and I doubt he’ll give her up now.”

I ignored the comments and surveyed the scene before me. The other gladiators were already engaged in their morning exercises, their bodies glistening with sweat as they sparred and practiced their techniques. They were fearsome – muscular, battle-scarred, and undeniably powerful. I swallowed hard, struggling to maintain my composure. Could I really keep up with them?

"Hey there, pretty girl," the sneering voice called out. "You lost? The slave quarters are that way."

"Enough!" I snapped, spinning around to face my tormentors. "I'm here to train, same as you." The two gladiators laughed cruelly, their eyes raking over me dismissively.

"You'll never make it through the first fight in the arena," Maro taunted, stepping forward to jab his finger into my chest. I knew him from the hall, and from his bed. He'd clearly had a strong mother when he was a child, because he didn't like women at all, and on both of the two occasions I'd been unfortunate to be picked to go to his bed, he'd spent most of the short time I was there telling me how disgusting I was.

"Back off, Maro!" a familiar voice growled. Septimus pushed his way between us, standing protectively in front of me. Grudgingly, the other gladiator backed away, muttering curses under his breath.

“You didn’t need to do that,” I snapped. “They were just being assholes. I could have handled it.”

"Listen, you may have tricked your way in here, but this isn't a game. One wrong move and you could end up dead."

My cheeks burned with anger and shame. "I didn't trick my way in," I hissed. "I earned my place here."

Septimus scoffed. "Sure you did. On your back, no doubt."

Before I could stop myself, my fist connected with his jaw. He staggered back, more surprised than hurt. The training ground fell silent as all eyes turned to us.

"You little bitch," Septimus snarled, rubbing his jaw. He lunged at me, but I was ready. I sidestepped his attack, using his momentum against him to send him sprawling in the dirt.

"Enough!" Marcus's voice boomed across the arena. He strode towards us, his face thunderous. "What is going on here?"

"Nothing," I spat, glaring at Septimus. "Just a friendly sparring match."

Marcus’s eyes narrowed as he looked between us. "Is that so?" He turned to address the gathered gladiators. "Listen up! This girl may be new, but she's here by order of the Dominus. Anyone who has a problem with that can take it up with me personally." His gaze swept over the crowd, daring anyone to object, then he turned back to Septimus.

Silence reigned for a moment before Cato barked, "Line up and start drilling! I want to see blood and sweat on this sand by midday."

"On your feet. Both of you, back to training. I won't have my gladiators brawling like common street thugs."

As Septimus picked himself up, I caught sight of Tarshi across the arena. He was moving stiffly, his face contorted in pain as he struggled through his exercises. He’d been flogged after his lie was discovered last week, and now again for some other minor infraction, probably for backchat. Tarshi didn’t particularly play well with others. My anger at Septimus faded, replaced by concern.

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