Crimson and Gold

Since Lysandra lost her position as Saria’s dheris, she wasn’t allowed to accompany her to the Arena, so everything that occurred there was unknown to her.

She didn’t have time for leisure, however, as unexpectedly she had a visitor.

“Drusus, what are you doing here. You should be resting.” Lysandra scanned him from head to toes the moment he entered her room.

Normally, the Princess didn’t accept guests in her private quarters except for a chosen few.

As a close friend and business partner to her late mother, Drusus was one of them.

To most of the world, he was a member of a low nobility, mainly living off trade. His specialty was antiques and rare books.

Empress Arvatii was a known connoisseur of art, so their frequent business dealings were nothing surprising.

Of course, all of it was just a cover-up for Drusus’ real trade—being a spy for the Empress. Having a status as a close friend of the Royal family made a lot of his work much easier. Especially when it came to meeting with Lysandra.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Please, Your Highness, I already got an earful from that daethri of yours,” Drusus waved his hand and scowled, remembering the nagging Saria gave him the other day. “If I hear that I should stay in bed one more time, I might actually get sick.”

Lysandra’s lips parted, ready to say something, but hearing that Saria already took care of that part, she opted to stay silent.

“I came here today because I have the information you were asking for before I was kidnapped,” Drusus said, seeing that he was finally free to focus on work. “The woman lives in Pire, her name is Antonia. She’s General Vespasian’s wife.”

Lysandra clenched her teeth. “I knew it. How big is Vespasian’s army?”

“Two hundred thousand. Fifty thousand cavalry.”

“That damn hypocrite,” she groaned, feeling that the initial frustration was quickly turning into anger. “All the talk about how a woman can’t control her urges while he can’t keep himself from bedding the wife of his most powerful general.”

Unable to calmly sit anymore, she sprang up from the sofa and walked over to the credenza to pour herself a drink.

The taste of sweet wine on her tongue made her momentarily think about Saria. That was enough to somewhat subdue her anger, at least enough to continue the conversation.

“Everyone knows that Vespasian is madly in love with his wife. If the matter of her affair with my father ever comes out, it could be disastrous for the Empire.

“There’s only one other general who could match Vespasian in manpower—Remus of Apio, but he hates my father to the core. If a coup happened, he would be the first to storm the Palace.” Lysandra allowed her thoughts to flow out loud.

Drusus didn’t want to interrupt her, so he sat in silence, listening to her assessment. Seeing the focused expression, he couldn’t help thinking about Empress Arvatii.

Aelius’ blood inherited from Octavius dulled a lot of Lysandra’s Shahrezi features. If someone didn’t know who her mother was, they would probably assume she was a pure-blooded Aelian.

As Lysandra grew older, however, her connection to the Empress became more and more apparent. They both shared the same sharp gaze and the determination to achieve everything they set their mind on.

While Drusus was swept by the wave of memories, Lysandra finished the wine in her cup as well as her analysis of the current situation.

“Keep watching her and report to me immediately if there is any development,” she said and returned to her seat. “Make sure that nobody else learns about it. The leverage this information creates is too useful. We have to be the ones controlling it.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

Having this matter taken care of, Lysandra moved to another topic she wanted to discuss with Drusus.

“What about the prophecy?”

“I have sent out our men to Karteia and Hedonia, while I’ll be going to Nivelis tomorrow. These are three cities with the biggest temples in the region, so this is our best place to start looking,” Drusus reported. “I also reached out to some of my acquaintances in the field, but we have to wait for them to get back to me.”

Lysandra nodded. “Send someone to Lucetta. It used to be the capital during the kingdom era, so it is an important cultural hub. They can know something at the Temple of Ten.”

“As you wish, Your Highness.”

Something else came to Lysandra’s mind while thinking about the matter. “Apparently, Loukios visited a shaman here in Aervelis. Melite said he foresaw the child becoming a great leader. It could be a long shot, but maybe he knows something about this prophecy.”

“We’ve been keeping an eye on a few of those people here. I’ll see if any of them have anything to say.” The spy agreed.

After that, it didn’t seem like they had anything else to discuss, but Drusus wasn’t eager to leave either, so for a short while they sat in an awkward silence.

“Your Highness, perhaps it is not my place to say anything…” he began hesitantly, “but as an old friend I feel like I should speak up before you make a mistake.”

Lysandra looked at him curiously, having a vague feeling of where this was going.

“I couldn’t help but notice that the relationship between you and Saria is… more than just a friendship,” Drusus continued. “I will ask you to reconsider being so deeply involved with that person. There is too much risk involved in this relationship.”

The Princess didn’t say anything, not right away. Her golden eyes remained fixed on him, and while her expression remained calm, the fire burning in those golden irises made her thoughts on the matter quite obvious.

“You’re right,” she said unexpectedly. “It’s not your place to say anything about this, Drusus."

Her voice was steady and clear, lacking any signs of anger, her expression neutral. And yet her words radiated authority that couldn’t be ignored or disobeyed.

“Of course, Your Highness. I beg forgiveness. I crossed a line.” Drusus quickly bowed his head and apologized. He expected Lysandra to disagree with him on the matter, but her reaction made it clear that he had gone too far.

“I understand that your intentions come from the right place,” Lysandra continued, her demeanor softened ever so slightly, “but I’m not a naive child anymore. I can be the judge of who is and isn’t worthy of my sympathy and affection.”

For a moment, Drusus felt as if it was the Empress sitting in front of him.

He wanted to apologize again when a shaken maid came running. “Your Highness! His Highness returned with Saria from the Arena, and they are arguing!”

“You have disobeyed me in public! Humiliated me in front of the whole stadium watching!” Loukios’ voice thundered in the courtyard, drawing the attention of every servant and every guard in the area.

Saria stood in silence with her arms crossed.

She didn’t argue back. Didn’t protest. Didn’t try to explain. There was no point.

Whatever Loukios had decided, no amount of words would change it.

After all, he had it all planned even before the fight started.

“Disobedient tools must be punished!” Loukios declared and called for the guards.

They captured Saria and chained her to a stone pillar at the center of the courtyard. They ripped her tunic, revealing her back.

“Ten whips should teach you to listen to your master without arguments,” Loukios said.

He handed the whip to Doran, who was all too eager to accept it.

In the crowd that gathered around, Saria saw Lysandra and Drusus.

Seeing that the Princess was ready to intervene, she shook her head, giving them a sign to stay out of it.

Lysandra took a step towards Saria, but Drusus stopped her. “Let me go, I need to stop this.”

“This is exactly what he wants,” the man warned. “If you react now, it will only make things worse for both of you.”

“But Saria—”

“She’s strong. She can take it.”

Lysandra turned her gaze back to Saria, torn between the desire to help her and fear that her intervention could really make things worse.

In the end, the only thing she could do was to watch helplessly.

Each strike of Doran’s whip carved a long gash on Saria’s back and in Lysandra’s heart.

Thirteen whips later, Saria was fighting to keep herself standing.

Under the pretense of miscalculating, Doran decided to add a few more strikes, clearly enjoying every moment of it.

Saria had no doubts that it had something to do with their encounter in the morning.

The disgust she was already feeling for him already, was honed into a deep-seated hatred by his own hand and the whip it was wielding.

Once the punishment was done, Loukios looked at Saria with satisfaction.

The cuts ran deep, turning her back into a bloodied mess. The thought of the pain she must have been feeling thrilled him to no end.

He wanted to pay her back for all the meddling for such a long time, and now he finally had her within his reach.

Loukios was elated.

“If I see anyone helping her, they will receive the same punishment,” he declared to those gathered around, barely able to hold back a smile.

This will make you think twice before crossing me again.

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