Marcus eases the heavy door shut and lingers with one hand on the iron band, listening. The muffled roar above swells, then settles back into a distant pulse. In the cramped dark, the coin purse lies where it was left, a dull glint on the floor.
He lowers himself onto a crate near Valeria, still angled toward the door out of habit. The storage room smells of salt, damp rope, and old timber, but the immediate danger has passed. For the first time in hours, his shoulders drop a little.
Marcus Flavius
You can breathe here, at least. If a man must hide in a hole, this is a better one than most.
Marcus gives the purse a tired glance, then snorts under his breath. He does not touch it. His eyes return to Valeria, measuring her in the torch flicker as if checking for bruises he cannot see.
Marcus Flavius
I have seen soldiers march into worse company than that woman brought you. Still, she spoke like someone used to getting her way.
From beyond the door comes only the far-off thud of the arena and the faint scrape of sandals in the corridor, ordinary sounds now, not warning bells. Marcus rubs his jaw, then looks toward the dark ceiling with a grim, half-wry patience.
Marcus Flavius
Rest while you can, Myrina. If Decimus means to keep you unseen, we may as well make use of the quiet.
✓ Quest Accepted
Stay hidden from the Empress
“This is the end. Messalina knows her secret identity. The Colosseum is not safe for her. No one can protect her from the Empress! Her career as a gladiatrix is over before it started. She lies down on a coil of rope and tries to sleep. Marcus Flavius must not see her crying.”
SUCCESS (Great Willpower, rolled +1)
Valeria lowers herself onto the coil of rope and folds in on the shadow it makes. The rough fibers take her weight without protest. She turns her face away from Marcus, letting the torchlight find the floor instead of her eyes.
Valeria Asiaticus
The rope smells of hemp and dust.
Marcus notices the movement, but he does not crowd her. He leans back on the crate, hands loose, voice gentler than before.
Marcus Flavius
Good. Take the quiet while it lasts. Rome gives it poorly.
The purse still glints on the floor between them, untouched, its coins dim under the wavering light. Above, the arena’s distant thunder comes and goes like a far sea, leaving their little room oddly still.
Marcus Flavius
You held your tongue with more spine than most men I have trained. That woman wanted fear. She did not get it.
Marcus studies her in profile, then looks away first, as if giving her privacy is its own kind of respect. The silence between them settles, not empty now, but shared.
Quest Complete
Stay hidden from the Empress