Bride of the Emperor (The Prophecy of Sisters Book 4) Hayley Faiman (e reader TXT) 📖

Marcellus doesn’t wait for me to respond. Instead, he turns and leaves me standing on the beach. I hear someone approach, but don’t even have to look to see who it is walking up behind me. Instead, I survey the ships being loaded.

Dipping my chin, my gaze travels over to the animal ship, which also includes all of the servis and for the first time, I wonder what my mulier thinks about the duties of the servis. The duties that are not spoken about.

“I would think her views may not align with yours,” Brutus announces from behind me.

With a jerk, I turn around to see him grinning at me. “How did you know what I was thinking?” I ask.

He shrugs a shoulder. “You were staring hard. I could see what you were looking at and guessed at the thoughts swimming around in your head. I know you well enough, cousin.”

“Tullia minds?” I ask, curiosity swimming through my veins.

His eyes find mine and he grins as he watches me for a moment. “Tullia minds if I am at home, yes.”

“When you aren’t?”

“She knows what happens at war, has absolutely nothing to do with her or what we share. She does not ask and I do not tell.”

“You don’t have your servi service you with their mouths when you’re at home?” I ask, raising a brow.

Brutus shakes his head slowly. “I do not.”

My brows rise in surprise. “Tullia?”

He snorts, continuing to shake his head. “It is not what we do, Tiberius, this you know. However, rules are not the same when we go to an orgia.”

“They never are,” I murmur.

“They are what we make them and we agree ahead of time how we wish to spend our time there. This is what works for us, it does not work for all.”

Drucilla appears at my side a few moments later and the conversation is cut short. Although she cannot understand me, the conversation is still not meant for her ears. I jerk my chin up to Brutus and turn to face my empress. She is dressed warmly for travel, her crown firmly in place. Tipping my chin down, I smile at her and she returns the smile.

“Famulus,” I call out to her nameless servi. She stops and dips her chin, waiting for her instruction. “You will stay on the ship with your empress to act as her interpreter.”

She doesn’t speak, but she lifts her gaze to meet mine and her eyes widen in surprise. Obviously, she was not expecting this. I chuckle to myself before I turn and head toward the ship to begin the final inspection before we take off.

Chapter Thirteen

DRUCILLA

It’s beautiful. I thought that it was gorgeous where we were, but now that we are pulling the boats ashore this witches’ island, I am taken aback. It’s stunning. I don’t know that words can express what it is like, the actual raw beauty that all of this holds.

Maybe it’s even prettier because I’m falling for the man standing next to me and everything seems to be just a touch better in the world. I dare to say that I am possibly falling in love with him, but I refuse to actually think the words, let alone say them. I don’t want them to be real, I don’t want any of this to be real.

So, I focus on the landscape and I must admit that it is worthy of my focus. There is a huge mountain with a tall peak in the distance, surrounded by trees and foliage, all the same colors as the ones where Tiberius lives and yet there is something mystical about this place, I can feel it.

“The magic is strong here,” Laurentia whispers.

Turning my head, I’m actually surprised to see her standing next to me. She has been pretty sparse on this boating trip. I haven’t asked where she’s been, she pops up every now and again and each time she looks a little worse for the wear.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

She doesn’t answer, instead, she looks forward, her eyes glassed over a bit. She only shakes her head, then lifts her hand and points directly ahead. “The witches live in that mountain at the top,” she whispers.

“How do you know?” I ask.

Laurentia rips her gaze from the mountain to look over at me. Her gaze finds mine and holds it. “You cannot feel it?” she asks.

I can feel it. I don’t tell her that, though. I want to hear how she knows. “The purple clouds that encircle the top, it’s where they live, their protection from the outside forces.”

“How do you know so much?” I ask on a breath.

She continues to hold my gaze, then shrugs a shoulder. “I was taken from a land similar to this one, a magical one.”

“Are you magical? Do you have powers?” I ask.

She smiles softly, then shakes her head. “I do not, but I have seen it, in Bunafi.”

“Would you like to go back one day?” I ask.

The men shout and move around us as they prepare to pull up on shore and dock the ships, but I block all of them out. There is only me and Laurentia right now. Nobody else. She stares at me, her eyes not even blinking as she watches, but she isn’t looking at me, she’s back at home, her home, wherever that is.

“I do not,” she whispers.

“How could you not? You’re a slave here,” I point out, as if she needs the reminder.

She licks her lips, then flicks her gaze down to her feet before she lifts her eyes back up to meet my own. “I have food, a place to live, and I am at your side. There is no position better for me than where I am right now.”

Laurentia says the words, but her voice falls flat as she does. There is something else, but I’m not sure if it matters. She seems pretty set in her words. I want to ask her