She folded her arms. "Really? Why is that?"
"When your father died, he left behind a large fortune. Enough to take care of you for the rest of your life. Except Radulf told me Horatio's w
ill only provides for you under one condition."
"You know about that?" The way she said it should've been a warning to me to stop talking. But I wasn't that wise.
My eyes darted to Crispus and then back to her. "There's only one way for you to keep your inheritance."
"You still think I only care about money? After all you and I have been through together?"
"We're not together." I nodded toward Crispus. "You came here with him."
"To help you! Nic, I'm trying to be your friend. I am your friend. Why can't you see that?"
My throat tightened, and for a moment, it was hard to speak. Finally, I said, "You were more free when you had nothing. You gave up that freedom for a life of comfort."
She groaned. "And you're any different? The last time we talked, you were going to leave Rome and be free. Now you bask in the comfort of Radulf's home, racing chariots and dining on the finest foods money can buy."
I brushed past her again. "You don't understand."
"Don't I?" She continued at my side. "Why is it wrong for me to have a friendship with a senator and his son when you agreed to live in the home of the man who nearly killed you in the arena? You accuse me of giving up my freedom for comforts, but you have done the very same thing!"
Aurelia took my hand, forcing me to turn back to her. I tried to pull free, but she redoubled her grip. Then as she got a better look at my wrist, her gaze sharpened. "Oh, Nic, what's this?"
I yanked my arm away. "It's nothing."
She grabbed it again and held it up to study it closer. The wrist was red and slightly swollen with scars that never had enough time to heal. "What caused these wounds?" When I wouldn't answer, she said, "Tell me."
"That's me, agreeing to live in Radulf's home."
"Oh. I see." Her voice softened, and for a moment, it was possible to believe that she really did care about me as a friend. "So this isn't your choice."
My eyes darted away, to where Radulf and Valerius were speaking. They glanced over at me, then returned to their huddled conversation. I considered pulling my hand away from Aurelia again, but she was brushing her fingers over the wounds in such a tender way, I suddenly didn't mind that she was holding it.
"We should meet in private tonight and talk," I said. "In the sewers, if you can find the place where I need to meet you."
"I can find it," she said. "Where?"
"Below Radulf's home." Then in a whisper, I added, "Bring the crepundia." That necklace had meant everything to her, once. For her whole life, it had been her only connection to her father. It surprised me that she no longer wore it.
Her brows pressed together, more suspicious than curious. "Why do you want the crepundia? My father's dead. It's meaningless now."
By then, Crispus had caught up to us, less wary of me than he had been at first. "I want us to be friends too," he said. "You don't have to trust my father, or even me, but is there enough friendship between us that you'll listen to me now?"
Probably not, but I still asked, "Why is your father talking to Radulf?"
Crispus frowned. "Aurelia already told you. He's trying to save your life."
"From what?"
"From the real enemy to Rome. The Praetors are coming, Nic. We don't know if it's to kill you or control you, but they are coming. You're in terrible danger."
Officially, the Praetors ran the government of Rome, as clerks and judges and tax collectors. Unofficially, their loyalties ran much deeper than the empire, in service of a cause that made Radulf afraid of them. If the Praetors were coming after me, that made me equally nervous.
When I first stole the bulla, I'd had no idea of the trouble I was bringing into my life. Indeed, I had heard Julius Caesar's own whispers from the grave, warning me that the bulla would become a curse. And the reality of that curse was playing out here as I stood in conversation with Crispus and Aurelia.
"Once my father took control of the Senate, the Praetors did follow him," Crispus said. "But not for the reasons he'd expected. The Praetors are secretly dedicated to much higher powers."