Page 52 of House of Serpents and Slaves

As I swung my sword, Cato easily parried, his expression impassive. "You're too predictable, Livia."

"Shut up!" I yelled as I launched another attack, only for him to sidestep it with ease. My frustration grew with each failed attempt, hot tears stinging my eyes.

"Control your emotions," he advised. "You're too erratic and you aren't thinking." I hardly heard him. It had been weeks of exercises, drills, sword forms and sparring, over and over again. I trained early in the morning before training started, and late into the night when I could find someone who'd spar with me.And yet still, I was losing every damn match. Two arena battles had come and gone, and I hadn't been placed in any of them. My dreams of vengeance seemed to be fading, just like the light.

The sun was setting, casting a blood-red hue in the sky as I stood in the training arena, beads of sweat sliding down my face. The sand beneath my feet felt warm yet unforgiving, much like the world I now found myself in. My muscles ached from the long day of intense training, and I could feel the phantom sting of previous cuts and bruises.

"Rena!" Cato snapped. "Come and finish her off. It won't take much."

I practically growled at him.

"Ready for another round?" Rena smirked, her dark eyes glinting with a mix of challenge and amusement. She was tall and lean, her body honed to perfection by countless hours of grueling combat. Her arms were decorated with intricate tattoos, each one symbolizing a victory she had claimed in the arena. I hated how effortlessly she seemed to dominate everyone she fought, including me.

"Bring it on," I muttered, shifting my grip on my wooden practice sword and trying to ignore the nagging doubt that gnawed at the edges of my resolve. The air was heavy with humidity, making it difficult to breathe, but I refused to let it deter me from my goal.

As we began sparring, I focused on Rena's movements, searching for any weaknesses in her defense. Despite my best efforts, however, her strikes were swift and lethal, leaving me little room to counterattack. My frustration mounted with every parry, every dodge - why couldn't I just land one solid hit?

"Come on, Livia," Rena taunted, landing a light blow on my shoulder. "You can do better than that."

"Shut up," I hissed through gritted teeth, lunging forward with a desperate swing. Rena easily sidestepped my attack, her laughter ringing in my ears.

"Is this really the best you can do?" a voice sneered from the sidelines, causing me to glance over and see Maro smirking with his friend.

"Maybe you should just give up," Maro's friend chimed in, crossing his arms and looking me up and down with disdain. "You'll never make it as a gladiator."

"Stay out of this," I snapped, my face flushing with anger and embarrassment. Their jeers only fueled my determination to prove them wrong, but at the same time, their words left a bitter taste in my mouth.

"Focus, Livia," Rena commanded. "Don't let them get to you."

"Easy for you to say," I muttered, my hands shaking as I raised my sword once more. My heart raced, pounding in my ears as I tried to block out everything but the woman standing before me.

"Enough talk, then," Rena said, lunging forward with renewed vigor. "Show me what you can do."

As we clashed again, I tried to channel my rage into my movements, using it to fuel my attacks rather than hinder them. But no matter how hard I fought, it seemed as though I was always one step behind. Eventually I held my hands up, backing away, desperate for a moment just to breathe. Rena shook her head in disgust.

I glanced over towards Marcus's training area. The sun had descended further, casting an orange hue across the sky, and the warm evening air was heavy with the scent of sweat and iron. The sound of clashing swords and grunts of exertion filled the arena, drowning out my own labored breathing.

"Keep your guard up!" Marcus bellowed at the group of trainees before him. They moved in unison, their bodies tense with concentration as they executed a complex series ofattacks and parries. His eyes never left them, scrutinizing every movement with the intensity of a hawk. I couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy as I watched them, wishing that I could be under his guidance too. I was starting to think that maybe he was going easy on me though. My sessions with the other trainers were much harder.

"Pathetic," Cato scoffed, appearing beside me as if from nowhere. His cold blue eyes narrowed as he looked me up and down, his lip curling in disdain. "You've been training for months, and still, you're no better than when you started."

"Maybe if I had a decent trainer, I'd improve faster," I snapped back, refusing to be cowed by his presence.

"Or perhaps you simply don't belong here," he retorted, his voice dripping with contempt. He crossed his arms over his broad chest, the muscles in his biceps straining against the fabric of his tunic. "You should know your place, girl. It's not among warriors."

"Shut up, Cato," I hissed, clenching my fists at my sides. My vision blurred with unshed tears of frustration, but I refused to let them fall.

"Mark my words, girl," Cato hissed. "Your stubbornness will end up getting someone killed, maybe even yourself."

"Is it my fault I don't have the privilege of being born a man?" I spat back, my hands balling into fists at my sides as I glowered at him.

"Enough of your excuses!" Cato sneered, leaning in so close that I could feel his hot breath on my face. "You're a liability to everyone around you. It's only a matter of time before your incompetence costs us all dearly."

"Get out of my face, Cato," I snarled through gritted teeth. My entire body trembled with rage, the blood pounding in my ears like a war drum.

"Or what?" he taunted, a cruel smile twisting his lips. "You'll challenge me to a duel? We both know how that would end."

"Maybe if I keep training, I'll surprise you one day," I retorted, trying to hold onto the last shred of my dignity. But deep down, I couldn't help but feel the weight of his words, the crushing sense that I would never be good enough.

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