Page 71 of House of Serpents and Slaves

The familiar scene settled my nerves - Marcus drilling the newer recruits, Antonius demonstrating a block sequence, the steady rhythm of practice weapons striking shields. Gaius, one of the veterans, gave me a brief nod as he passed. It wasn't much, but from him it meant something. I'd earned that nod over months of proving myself, of getting up every time I was knocked down, of never complaining no matter how brutal the training.

Not everyone was as accepting. I could feel Cato's glare from where he trained with the heavy palus, his hatred of having a house slave among the gladiators as sharp as ever. A few othersshared his view, though they were less vocal about it. But they were becoming the minority now.

The change had been gradual, almost imperceptible. A respected nod here, a request for advice there, being included in the quiet conversations before morning training. Small things that added up to something larger - acceptance. Not from everyone, perhaps never from everyone, but enough. Enough to make this place feel like home, to make these people feel like family. A broken, brutal family, but mine nonetheless.

"Take it slow today," Marcus advised, handing me a wooden practice sword. "Just drill forms with Antonius until you find your rhythm again."

Antonius gave me a friendly nod as we squared off. He was one of the veterans, more teacher now than fighter, though he could still hold his own in the arena. "Ready when you are, girl."

We began the familiar dance of practice drills. Block, parry, thrust. Simple movements I'd done thousands of times. My muscles remembered even if my mind felt sluggish. Antonius matched my pace, his movements deliberately telegraphed.

"Good," he murmured as I blocked a high strike. "Now watch your footwork. Don't cross-"

The world shifted.

Suddenly I was back in the arena, but not my fight - Rena's. She was moving too slowly, her strikes clumsy with exhaustion. The beast circled her, playing with its prey. I wanted to scream a warning but no sound came out. Then it happened again: the leap, the spray of blood, Rena's face frozen in surprise as her insides spilled across the sand. The crowd's roar of approval as she tried to hold herself together with trembling hands.

"Livia?"

The beast's eyes found mine in the crowd. Hungry. Waiting.

"Livia!"

My practice sword hit the sand. I couldn't breathe. The training yard spun around me, faces blurring into masks. All I could see was Rena's blood, all I could hear was the crowd cheering as she died.

"Stand down!" Marcus's voice, sharp with concern.

I ran.

Past surprised faces, past Septimus half-rising from his seat, past the weapon racks and through the archway. I made it to the small space between buildings before my legs gave out and I doubled over, retching up my breakfast.

She'd been so young. Gods, we were all so young. One mistake, one slow step, one moment of bad luck - that's all it took. Rena had been faster than me, stronger than me, and now she was dead. Just like that. Gone.

I pressed my forehead against the cool stone wall, trying to steady my breathing. How many more? How many friends would I watch die before my turn came? I thought of Marcus, with his dreams of freedom. Of Antonius teaching the younger ones. Of Tarshi, still healing from the flogging. Even Septimus, who might be cold but had saved my life.

Any of us could be next. All our plans, our hopes, our secret moments - gone in an instant of tooth and claw, or blade and blood.

"Livia."

I didn't turn at Marcus's voice. I couldn't let him see me like this.

"It happens to all of us," he said quietly. "The first death after your own close call. It makes it real in a way it wasn't before."

"She was better than me." My voice came out raw. "Stronger. Faster. And she died like... like..."

"Like a gladiator." His hand found my shoulder, steady and warm. "It's what we are. What we do."

"Die for their entertainment?" The bitterness tasted like bile in my mouth.

"Live first," he corrected. "Live harder and brighter than most ever dare. Rena knew the risks. So do you. So do I."

I finally turned to face him. His eyes were kind but unflinching. "How do you do it? Keep going out there knowing..."

"Knowing we'll die?" His mouth quirked. "We were all going to die anyway, Livia. At least this way we choose how to live first." He squeezed my shoulder. "But if you want out, if you want to go back to the house slaves-"

"No." The word came out fierce, surprising us both. "No, I won't go back to that."

He studied me for a long moment, then nodded. "Take the rest of the morning. Get your head straight. But I expect you back this afternoon."

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