For some reason, the day felt too good to be true. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I had the feeling that I was waiting for something to happen. Which I wasn't. I didn't want anything to happen. That would be crazy.

  Trying to shake off the feeling, I tried to be as pleasant and efficient as possible to eliminate any possibility of things going bad. Hard to be mad at someone who's being uncomfortably sweet, right?

  Corinna curled her lip. "You're scaring me, girl."

  "Oh, really? I'm awfully sorry about that. Please let me know if there's anything at all I can do to make your visit here at Invictus Shakes more pleasant. We take our customers’ input very seriously to improve your experience!"

  "What? Who's we? It's only you."

  "Perchance."

  "You can't just say perchance. What in the gods’ names is wrong with you?" She scowled at me and snatched her drink up. I could hear her mumbling curses as she stomped away. “Do I need to tell your father about this?”

  Caelum, who'd been with her, chuckled when I turned my bright smile onto him. "Ah, same treatment for me? Then would you be willing to help me treat myself?" he asked, getting right to business. His hand extended to me, holding a small, feathery green bundle. “Fennel. I've not been able to settle my stomach, so whatever drink you think this would go best in."

  Dutifully, I took it and thumped my other fist on my chest. "Here to serve, Medic Tirhaqa. Leave it to me."

  I turned, wanting to slam my head against the wall. That was probably one of the dumbest things I'd ever said and to probably the smartest person I knew. I cleared my throat and looked over the menu for something that wouldn't agitate the stomach before deciding to make a modified one with apples and honey. I got to work, chopping and shredding the fennel as finely as I could. Felix had made a good call, telling me to master well enough the weapons of the craft before opening, as he'd described it. It would've sounded ridiculous coming from anyone else.

  Once the drink was done, I placed a few sprigs I'd saved on top for a finishing touch and presented it to him. "A smoothie for your malady."

  Caelum scratched his cropped coils. "Well, she wasn't wrong about something being up. But thank you."

  I watched him leave before shrugging and continuing on. So far nothing bad had happened and the sun had already moved on from midday. For some reason, I thought of Quintus. We all had our habits to avoid bad luck here in Romachia, but it almost guided his every action. If this was how he felt, it was kind of exhausting.

  The next customer stepped forward and I shifted my attention back. "Salve, fine customer! Welcome to—" The smile that I'd plastered on my face never fell so fast.

  "Oh, Maximilia, look at you. Perhaps this silly little venture turned out to be a good thing. If only you could've learned to be more pleasant when we were together."

  The man before me offended my eyes with his excellence. Not a speck of dirt or wrinkle in his pristine tunic. Even the leather of his sandals gleamed just like his hair trimmed to perfection. But no matter how much he'd practiced his smile, its warmth hardly ever reached his eyes, cold and calculating. Everything about him was chiseled to perfection. I could chop off his attractive head and place it on a pedestal and no one would be able to tell the difference between it and a marble bust.

  Schooling my expression after that last thought, I crossed my arms. "Plinius."

  He held up a hand. "Ignoring whatever uncharitable thought you must've just had, you really shouldn't just address me by my family name."

  There it was. Calculating and sharp. "Why not? That's all you'd ever seen me as. My last name, Vita."

  "And you're as surly as ever. Mother was right, it seems. You're either born with class or you aren't."

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  I scoffed. "Oh, gods. Your dearest mother trained you well. It's just so natural for you to think you're so much better than the rest of us that it's woven into your very tongue. And you don't even realize how it sounds."

  He tilted his chin up. "I know exactly how it sounds. Like the truth, nothing more. And since we're no longer dearly...acquainted, it's only proper to address me as I ask."

  This certainly wasn't the first time I regretted ever being acquainted with him.

  "Wouldn't calling you Pertinax be too familiar from a woman like me to a man of your stature? Can't have that now, can we?" My voice dripped with insincerity. "Why are you even here?"

  It seemed like he'd done well for himself since we'd last seen each other—or maybe it was more accurate to say his mother had done well for him. Pertinax wore the purple stripe of a politician proudly, with the full toga. Something that was far too impractical for daily wear. I didn't think a visit to the local smoothie shop counted as any kind of officially sanctioned activity.

  "Your name came up in my circle a few times recently, so I thought I'd come extend my sincerest congratulations for finally doing something with yourself."

  I curled my lip at the backhanded compliment. "That really can't be all there is to it."

  Three years ago, he'd courted me. Pertinax had said we'd be a good match and promised to show me how to behave in a way that was befitting of my father's respect and status in Aeterna, as he'd said. He'd known all too well how much I wanted to do my best for Felix. But that meant spending less time with people like Saturnia, and I hadn't realized it until my own father pulled me aside to tell me that I'd made my best friend cry, asking him if she'd done anything wrong. I'd known exactly how Ursus had felt under my father's disappointment that day at the food fight. And, as it turned out, Pertinax had just been using me to ingratiate himself into our home. Not to become a gladiator—that was something far too uncouth for him, in his words—but to secure a prominent public figure as a political ally for his family and future interests. I'd wasted being seventeen with him.

  "As I said before," he answered. "There's nothing wrong with having a plan or ambitions. Else, what are we? Pieces on a board game for others to control?"

  Rolling my eyes, I returned to preparing my ingredients. "But I guess it's completely fine if you're the one moving them around, Plinius."

  He shook his head, giving up and moving on to his real concern. "That's just the way it works. Which is why I'd like you to reconsider the conversation we had years ago."

  There it was. Cold and calculating. The knife stabbed into the wooden plank I cut fruit on. "I am not marrying you."

  Pertinax laughed, a dry sound that showed how absurd he thought I was. "Of course not. I've refined my tastes since then." I wanted to stab the knife through him instead. "But I was hoping you'd matured enough to realize the importance of positioning in society, and the opportunity I'm presenting."

  "Why should I? We're doing just fine without you."

  "Are you?"

  I was going to snap back, but something about the tone in his voice made me pause and look at him. Really look at him. His expression was stuck up. But not entirely unkind.

  "I don't think unwell of you, Maximilia. And I respect your father a great deal. But I don't think you understand how well-connected I am. I could have told you about the decision with the Solis games a month in advance."

  “What?” I felt my skin prickle as blood drained from my face. "Are you serious?"

  The look he gave me said it all. He was always serious. Gritting my teeth, I rubbed the back of my hand against my forehead. I felt torn, wanting to protect the people my father cared about—and who I’ve come to treasure as well. But then I remembered his words of warning when I cried in his arms after ending things. That nothing offered came without a price. Who knew what he would expect my father to do in return?

  "I think you still have some more maturing to do," I finally said.

  "Excuse me?"

  I stared at him. "You heard me. Work on not insulting the people you want a favor from, even if you don't see anything wrong with it. Then when you come back and try again, I'll be willing to listen."

  His jaw clenched and a frustrated exhalation flared his nostrils. But then he surprised me. "Perhaps you are right, Maximilia. I'll consider your words. Hopefully you'll be more receptive to me then when I return."

  I blinked.

  "Seems like I underestimated you, a mistake I should never make in this game." He inclined his head and then turned, forging his way through the courtyard. His stately presence was enough to turn nearly everyone's head. On his way out, he passed my father and greeted him. They clasped hands politely before he continued on.

  "Was that not..?" Felix asked when I went over to meet him where he stood watching Pertinax exit to the road.

  "Yeah. I'll tell you later. But what brings you over now?"

  He stroked his short beard, a frown etched onto his face. "Had a feeling. But are you alright?”

  "It ended well enough," I confessed. "Although he still wants you more than me, and he seems to know a lot more than he lets on."