Page 54 of House of Serpents and Slaves

"Right," I agreed, wiping my sweaty palms on my tunic. I sighed. "Let's get back to training."

She nodded, but hesitated before walking away. "You're up early to train before morning meal, aren't you?"

"Every day," I said with a sigh.

"Good. Tomorrow, I'll join you. I have a few ideas that might help you."

The sun was a relentless eye, bearing down on me as I struggled to keep my balance in the gladiatorial arena. It had been a week since I began training under the watchful gaze of Rena, and every day felt like an exercise in futility. My muscles ached from exertion, sweat coated my brow, and my heart pounded in my chest like a desperate prisoner. But what pained me the most was my pride – bruised and battered from losing every sparring match I'd participated in.

"Focus, Livia!" Rena called out, her voice sharp and authoritative. "You're letting your emotions get the better of you."

I gritted my teeth, trying to ignore the whispers of doubt that crept into my mind. I wanted desperately to become a gladiator, to seek vengeance against the Emperor for all he had done tomy family and countless others. But the path before me seemed steeped in failure, each step more difficult than the last.

"Again," Rena commanded, and I squared off against yet another opponent, my legs trembling with fatigue.

"Remember what Marcus told you," I muttered under my breath, recalling the stolen nights spent with him, where we whispered secrets and shared dreams of freedom. He had tried to teach me some of his techniques, but it seemed that no matter how hard I practised, I still couldn't grasp the art of combat.

"Enough talk, fight!" my opponent barked, lunging at me with her wooden sword.

I dodged, barely avoiding the blow, and tried to strike back. But my movements were clumsy and slow, and she easily parried my attack before landing a solid hit on my shoulder. Pain flared through my body, but it was nothing compared to the humiliation that burned within me.

"Damn it!" I cursed, grasping my injured arm. The frustration bubbled inside me, threatening to boil over.

"Control your anger, Livia," Rena warned, her gaze never leaving me. "It will only burden you in battle."

"Easy for you to say!" I spat back, glaring at her. "You're not the one getting beaten every single time!"

"True," she replied, her voice remaining infuriatingly calm. "But I also didn't let my emotions cloud my judgement when I was in your position. I learned from my mistakes and grew stronger because of them."

Her words stung, but I knew she was right. My desire for vengeance, my need to prove myself, it was all holding me back. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. I couldn't change the past, but I could shape my future – and that meant becoming the best gladiator I could be.

"Alright," I said, determination filling my voice. "Let's do this again." I could feel sweat trickling down my back as I squared offagainst Rena, my heart thundering like an impatient war drum. My grip tightened around the hilt of my wooden sword, knuckles whitening.

"Keep your stance low and centred," Rena instructed, her voice steady and focused. She held her weapon with practised ease, a confident smirk playing on her lips. "And remember to breathe."

I gritted my teeth, trying to ignore the humiliating defeats that haunted me. The countless losses against my fellow trainees, even my stolen nights with Marcus, had done nothing to help me improve my skills. I was still the same pathetic fighter I'd been when I started this hellish journey.

"Enough talk," I growled, lunging towards Rena with all my pent-up frustration.

"Predictable," she taunted, effortlessly sidestepping my attack. Her foot shot out, tripping me, and I hit the ground with a painful thud. The wind knocked out of me, I gasped for air, tasting dust and defeat.

"Get up," Rena ordered, looming over me like an unyielding shadow. I clenched my fists, fury surging through my veins as I scrambled to my feet.

"Again," I demanded, my voice trembling with barely-contained rage.

"Fine," she replied, her eyes narrowing with determination. "But don't say I didn't warn you."

Rena moved with the fluid grace of a predator, her strikes swift and precise. Each parry left my arms aching, each dodge sent waves of pain through my battered body. But I refused to give in; I couldn't let her see how much she'd beaten me down.

"Is that all you've got?" I snarled, my vision blurring as I fought through the pain.

"Hardly," Rena replied, her smirk turning into a cold smile. With one final, devastating blow, she knocked the wooden swordfrom my grasp, sending it flying across the training grounds. Defeated and disarmed, I sank to my knees, the humiliation burning like acid in my chest.

"Pathetic," Rena sneered, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. But then something shifted in her gaze; a flicker of sympathy, perhaps, or maybe pity. She offered me a hand, pulling me to my feet.

She looked down at me for a moment, her head slightly cocked to one side as if she was sizing me up. "Now, let's focus on your footwork and speed first. You're smaller than most gladiators, so you need to use that to your advantage."

I raised an eyebrow at her, my pride still stinging from our previous bout, but I nodded nonetheless. We began circling each other, swords at the ready. The sound of fire hardened wood against wood echoed through the empty training grounds as we exchanged a series of rapid blows. My muscles burned with exertion, sweat dripping down my forehead and stinging my eyes.

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