“Beautiful, dear… just beautiful,” the elderly woman’s wrinkled hands caressed her hair as she stared blankly at the woman in the mirror. Her jet black hair pulled up with soft strands of silky hair adorning her shoulders and framing her face. She gazed into cloudy blue eyes, the edges of them pinched with frustration. She hated to be the center of attention and yet her father, because of his position, required nothing less than the best, the biggest, the showiest of all ceremonies for her birthday each year.

She touched the woman’s hand and smiled at her, “Stop fussing over me. Go and busy yourself with the rest of the preparations as you know father will be a mess by now.”

The servant laughed and kissed the top of Claudia’s head, walking out and closing the door softly. Claudia turned back to the mirror and sighed, her body relaxing as she was finally alone. She hated these parties. Hated people watching her and waiting for her to make a move that was less than becoming of the Emperor’s daughter and yet, she was not offered a choice in the matter. Her brother, Antonio loved these idiotic parties and he would be in rare form tonight, drinking and laughing, flirting and bedding several of the available women that showed their faces at the palace.

She slipped from the expansive vanity and walked to her closet, pulling down a hair of white sandals to accent her lovely gown, small baby’s breath adorning her dark hair and crimson lipstick outlining her full mouth. She barely had time to finish pulling her shoes on when her brother busted into the room, a smile on his handsome face and laughter on his tongue.

“Are you ready?” He half ran, half skipped toward her, laughing as he did. “You’re going to be so very thrilled with the gift father has procured for you, sister!”

She laughed because it was contagious and pulled him into a hug, “I don’t want any silly little gifts. I’d rather you enjoy the party and me recline in the comfort of the grand library and read something old, stuffy and rather boring by your measurement.”

He pulled back with a gleam in his eye, “No… you’re going to love this. I cannot wait to see you face when father presents it to you.”

She shook her head and went along with his merriment. Gift or no gift, she’d pretend that this night above all was a life changing moment, and by some miracle of fate… it just might be.

Clank. Clank. Clank. Verus ducked underneath a sword, hearing the blade impact heavily against the wall. His own sword was brought up to smack aside the next blade flying at him, before he jumped backwards, looking at his two foes. They were slaves, unarmored and armed with blunted swords, as he was, looking at him wearily. Their bodies bore the bruises of men who had been assaulted many times over, but still they came on. Verus had yet to defeat the pair yet.

That changed quickly, as the two bull rushed him. Untrained fools. Parrying aside one blade, the gladiator slammed out his left fist into the slaves exposed chest, sending him flying to the ground. The blow had knocked the wind out of him, leaving him in a condition simply unable to fight. The other slave had too much momentum in his attack, the blade would've only clipped Verus, if he allowed that. However, he did not, instead spinning to the side, and slamming the blunt blade against the back the mans left knee, bringing him to the ground with a loud cry of pain.

Verus looked to the two men now, before letting out a sigh and tossing his blade aside with a loud clanging of metal on stone. This was asinine. He was a gladiator, not a man to beat slaves who could barely defend themselves. He had been purchased, he knew that much, from a man who had used him on a rise to glory in the social ranks. Ten wins, and only two draws. No defeats, as of yet. He knew his own worth, he knew that the enhanced praise he received from the man whom he had been forced to call master meant something. It did come to a shock to him, when he had been rather forcibly transferred to an undisclosed location then, the man nowhere to be seen.

That was three days ago. By now, he knew that he'd been purchased by the Emperor, it was hard to hide when palace guards were used as escorts, and he knew that he was to be a 'gift' of some sort, from what he overheard from the guards. Still, he had provided him with what he'd asked for, more or less. A bedroll, three meals a day, and slaves to spar against. Granted, this was a man who knew the wealth of a gladiator, in-particularly this one, as he had paid for him, so it explained well the better treatment than the other slaves received.

A loud clapping disturbed Verus from his thoughts, and he looked over, his eyes widening as he did so. How long had the Emperor been there watching? "It's nice to see that you were worth the price, gladiator." Verus continued to stare at the man, though his gaze held no anger or disrespect. Rather, it held curiosity.

"I've overheard talk that I'm a gift. To whom?" Verus said in a soft voice. Then he noticed the two guards behind him, and silently cursed himself for not acting the part of a slave. His pride would be his death one day, likely in the sands of the arena.

However, the man laughed instead, looking to Verus with a smile on his face. "It would hurt it to spoil the surprise, now wouldn't it? Just know that you're to be given tonight, so the anticipation won't last much longer. Be prepared to escort him upstairs when the order arrives. The two guards nodded as the emperor began to walk back down the hall, away from the small training room.

Claudia walked from her room with her brother by her side, angst tearing up the recess of her chest as she tried to ignore the sinking feeling that her father’s grand gift wasn’t going to be a new dress or a stallion for the stables, but something bigger, better – more grandeur that would make him appear wealthy and loving in front of the enormous crowd that had amassed. They came not to see her, but because the Emperor was throwing a bash.

Antonio chatted about nothing as he walked beside her, his excitement a bit off putting, but she tried to ignore it as well. The sound of the lyres and flutes playing a traditional hymn put her a bit at ease as they approached the large ballroom her father had constructed earlier that year. It was a place to hold parties, expansive and befitting the gods of Olympus. She stopped just outside the door and smiled at her brother – for his benefit alone.

“You look stunning, my sister.” He touched a lock of her hair and pushed the door open before she had time to respond. The crowd cheered as she walked in, a fake smile plastered perfectly to her full lips. Emperor Marcus Aurelius Antoninus Augustus stood from his large golden throne and walked down to greet his beautiful daughter, merriment on his handsome features.

“Ahhh.. you look like your mother tonight, my love.” He pulled her into a quick hug, a kiss on the cheek before touching her face in a loving manner.

She smiled and bowed to him a little, a show of respect. She knew the song and dance as it was customary to play the routine in front of her father’s subjects, but truth be told – she stood in front of a complete stranger and wanted to shudder at him touching her cheek so intimately. It was a façade they’d practiced her whole life and tonight was no different.

“Thank you, Father.” She looked around and smiled at everyone in attendance and then glanced back to her Emperor, for that is all he truly was. “Thank you for all of this. Really, you should’ve.”

“Nonsense, child. You are my only daughter and a father is allowed to dote on her, is he not?” He offered his arm and she took it as several of the women in the crowd sighed with lust and adoration for her dad. She felt her breakfast rise in her throat, but refocused on the fuss that was going on at the far corridor. Her father turned her around and smiled at her as the door opened and a handsome warrior was thrust from the hallway.

Her father’s voice caused her to jump. “And to my daughter, whom I love so dearly, I present a present most could only dream of. I present to her a personal champion; A gladiator of her own. I present Verus!"

Horror gripped her heart as she started at him and wondered why in all of heaven and hell would he present her with a slave – a gladiator? She turned to her brother, feeling helpless and he gave her the ‘fucking smile’ look and she did – fake as she’d ever been. She walked toward the man on her father’s less than gentle nudge and stood before him, reaching out to grab his chin roughly and look him in the eye.

She looked over her shoulder at her father and smiled devilishly, “Oh he’s beautiful, Father. Perfect. I could not ask for a more perfect gift.” The room exploded in congratulations as she looked back to the man, releasing the grip on his face as sadness rushed into her gaze. She wanted to apologize, to remove his humility at the situation before him, but all she could do was gaze into his tiredness, her only wish to give him rest.

What on earth could she do to help him find freedom?

She didn’t know, but she’d be figuring it out… soon.

Verus hadn't been allowed to leave the small training room that he stood in now, and already, he found himself growing bored. The two slaves in the room had been escorted out, one limping and one still trying to catch his breath, glaring at him angrily as they walked out of the room. They only received a smug look of victory in return. The man knew what he was, what he would continue to be. He was a weapon, a tool, that could well decide if a man would rise or fall, by no work of his own.

It was disgusting.

Through his work, he wasn't rewarded, the men who owned him were. Such behavior was simply put, unfair to the man, however immature such would sound. He couldn't rise by his own right. The only thing that he enjoyed was the crowd cheering his name, because then he knew that it was him, not his master, that had the peoples approval.

This time, he heard the metal boots on concrete easily, now that he wasn't wrapped up in his own thoughts. Looking down the hall, he noticed two more guards walking down the hall. Their approach caught the attention of the two men already with Verus, turning around to converse with the new arrivals. He didn't hear most of it, though he understood what was happening well enough regardless. He was being given away now.

The next order to stand and walk came as no surprise, being led in between four armed soldiers with nothing but the clothes on his back. He felt like a prisoner, and he technically was, though that was a story for a different time. But this? This was humiliating. Being led like a dog on a leash, by four royal soldiers nonetheless. Soon enough, he reached his destination, just in time to hear the announcement. The emperors daughter? This was interesting. The guards stood behind him, as if daring him to make a hostile move towards them. He wasn't being presented as a man, he was being presented as a thing, given as a present as one would give his dog a bone for behaving.

However, Verus kept his visage passive and calm, even as she gripped his chin to looked him in the eye. She would find him staring back at her, giving her the gaze of a man. He found himself surprised by the look she gave him, directly after her words to the emperor. His form was adorned only in the most basic of clothing. A simple tunic, and a simple pair of trousers were all the man had to wear, and it only made it more humiliating to be presented to the emperors daughter in such a fashion, before what felt like half of the city. His hands clenched, the muscles in his arms bulging for a brief moment before the gladiator decided that the guards behind him wouldn't take kindly to something they'd view as hostile intent.

So he continued to stare at the now puzzling girl, and her gaze filled with sadness. He wished to know why she seemed to be upset now. Was he undesired then? Was his humiliation going to be that much more complete, to be denied by the emperors own daughter? He doubted such a feat would extend his life, and so he could only hope that such wasn't the case.

She turned her gaze back to the warrior before her and let her eyes move across his skin, dark and unwashed and yet the masculinity of his stance and the look in his eye took her a moment to recover from. Her father barked for the warrior to drop to his knee before the princess, but she reached out and touched his strong shoulder, her fingers pressing in slightly until he focused on her instead of her father. "Is he not mine, Father? I would not have him bow for he will soon be a God in the arena." She smiled with sensual intent and looked around, her sadness tucked away beneath a cloak of regalia.

She leaned in to him, her lips just beside his ear as she spoke only for him to hear and yet her words were filled with strong kindness, with a brash undertone to help in not appear weaker than he were. She’d not known many slaves of his kind, both strong enough and perhaps brave enough to remove themselves from any and all forms of oppression, but she wanted to give him a running start if he were to ever make his way from under the thumb of a man as hateful as the emperor.

“Do not bow before me now or they will forever have you on your knees, brave man of valor.” She spoke her words softly and turned as her father nodded and clapped his hands, his arms opening as he expected a hug from her. She walked from her new pet toward the man that bore her features, but shared none of her heart.

“I’m so very pleased, Princess. I think it should be up to you as to whether he fights in the Archeon Battle tomorrow at dusk.” He pulled her in for a short, appropriate-looking hug of sorts and then moved back, his large mitt-like hands holding her slender shoulders, the dress she wore covering only her breasts, stomach and legs. Long dark hair moved about her as she turned to look over her shoulder at the warrior, his strength appearing to ween a bit and yet if she gave him reprieve her father would questions her… and him.

Perhaps he was only emotionally tired.

“Yes,” she said, her gaze locked on his before returning to the large giant in front of her. “He will fight tomorrow, but tonight I want to retire with him.” She waited for his approval, her father having invited the whole city-state in a show of his adoration of Claudia, but truly it was for his own popularity. The things these poor people believed about their leader.

His eye twitched a little and her mouth lifted in a challenging smile, unable to help herself from besting him a little. He nodded and laughed, covering up his angst with a bit of pseudo warmth and understanding.

“But of course. You are your father’s daughter…” Everyone laughed as she put forth consorted effort to make a sound of appreciation before turning and walking toward the gladiator. She reached out and took his large hand, her own lost in the rough confined of his. She walked toward the door, her thumb softly rubbing back and forth along his as if trying to tame a beast and let him know that she was not at all what she appeared to be. She stopped just before the door as the guards opened it, her father’s crude comment following them into the silence of the halls.

“Don’t wear him out too much, daughter of mine.” He laughed.

“Not by choice…” She whispered and moved down the dark hall, candles lighting the way to her large bedroom where they could be alone and she could speak to him like the male deserved to be spoken to – as a human. She released his hands and let her shoulder relax before moving ahead of him and trying to think though how something so perfect such as her birthday celebration could've birthed the situation that lay before her. She could not fathom and released her thoughts by the time the guards opened the large ornate doors to her room, giving her entrance in the one place she could be herself.

The emperors words came to Verus and, surprisingly, he only let out a smirk. He didn't belong to the man now, he belonged to his daughter. He would not follow orders from someone who did not own him. If he went to his knees, it would be because the princess told him to, and nothing else. He would maintain that much pride, bowing to only one, instead of many. Still, his gaze was drawn to the man, before being pulled back to Claudia by the fingers digging into his shoulders. Looking back to her, he continued to stare, his mouth not opening to say a word.

At this point, he was very confused. On one end, the look in her eyes as she gazed at him told him that she felt... Sorry for him, he supposed? But her words, something that Verus had learned to trust far more than looks, spoke a different tale. When it came down to it, the gladiator found it hard to believe a mere gaze, not when it was something that concerned his life absolutely. Still, he took comfort in the fact that she didn't have him bowing yet.

He was so wrapped up in his own threats that he had missed her leaning up to his ear entirely, the sudden voice startling him, though aside from a slight jolt, he showed no other reaction. The man clearly had trained reactions and reflexes, to only show them when he wanted to, or needed to. It would be unbecoming of a gladiator, after all, to visible jump when he was startled. Still, he continued to remain silent. The words he held would not be suitable for the guards standing so uncomfortably close behind him. Atleast he knew that he was valuable enough to earn some form of comfort or another, considering that the princesses own glory now rested on his shoulders. He found it a surprisingly light burden to bear, at the moment.

The prospect of battle would have made him groan or sigh aloud, if he knew that such actions would be permitted. But they would not, so instead he was forced to put on a facade of steady resolve. It would show in his eyes though, a weary look. When it came down to it, a bedroll did not provide the rest a man needed for battle. She seemed to understand this, or atleast understand something, her words making him release a quiet sigh, followed by an intake of breath in surprise. She was going to retire with him? What did she have in mind...

Even then, in all of the confusion Verus held for the situation, his face remained calm. He didn't have the luxury of being able to freely show his emotions. Not infront of such people. He waited patiently then, for her to return, once her father had given his own approval. He was surprised by her taking his hand in her own, gently pulling him along away from the room, away from the prying eyes of the audience. He found it amusing then, that there were people going to enjoy her birthday more than her own. The comment that followed them made him chuckle softly, unable to hide that he found the emperors comment amusing.

The walk was filled with silence, as the gladiator simply followed behind Claudia, unknowing of what exactly to do. Should he speak? Should he wait? He decided to hold such thoughts until they were safely put away into her own room, for his own reasons. If he was going to speak to her, he would do it in private, where no one else was around to hear him, to judge him. He'd been judged enough in the recent years of his life.

Soon enough though, she led him through the doors to her room, Verus following behind silently, his hands handing loosely at his side, Glancing behind him, making sure the door was shut entirely, he spoke, for the first time in three days. "Forgive me, but I believe your name is... Claudia, correct? It's hard to remember names that I've never had reason to speak before. Regardless, I am curious what your intentions for me are. At this point, I'm finding myself doubting you wish to use me for physical pleasure, not by the way you've spoken to me, and looked at me." His voice was deep, though it carried no threatening tone or underlying subtleties. It held only a curiosity for what she wanted to do with him, and he believed he should be allowed to know that much.

They moved down the vast ornate halls to arrive back at her room. She wanted some time alone with him to assess his state of mind and discern quickly if he would be able to remain be her side or need to be sent to the slave quarters. She’d not be waking up to his hands around her throat as he pressed the life from her quickly. She was intelligent and cunning if anything. She felt a small twinge of guilt at leaving her own birthday party midway, which was short lived.

Her father loved to find a reason to gloat and her birthday was a perfect platform for his to invite the countryside to come and see the beautiful spectacle that was his only daughter. She would be betrothed to someone of noble standing, most like the prince of Spain as her father wanted, no needed, an alley of that strength and military cunningness. The thought alone made her sick, but she swallowed it down with her guilt.

The guard at her quarters opened the door, then stepped forward and grabbed Verus, one on each arm. Claudia turned and sat her gaze firmly set on the guards as they awaited her command. “Remove your hands from him. He’s a man, not an animal. You may leave us. Thank you for your time.”

Both of them looked rather confused as they released the criminal, one speaking up out of concern for the beautiful young woman.

“Princess, you don’t mean to have him in your room alone, do you?” His gaze was piercing as he stood tall with his chest bowed out.

“I most certainly do. If you are worried about my safety, I’ll remind you that I am no wall flower and can defend myself against most of your men, including both of you. If he tries something ignorant, I’ll call for you. Post a man outside my door and bother me not unless I scream, which isn’t going to happen.” She scoffed at them and pointed at the door, turning her back to them all until the door shut.

The sound of his voice gave her pause and his questions were reasonable and yet still somewhat ballsy for a slave. She was glad to see that perhaps he had not bought into the subservient part to the core of its destruction and there might be some salvaging him to be a man of honor if she could find a loop hole of sorts. She turned to him and nodded at his first question, the strong commanding woman that presented herself to the people of Rome as one of their leaders let her guard down as she reached for the chains that bound his hands, carefully removing them as she spoke to him.

“I am Claudia. I am so sorry about all of this. I shall make it right as soon as I am politically able. I’d rather play the part with you here than have my father send you to your death, which would be such a waste.” She stopped in front of him and took a small white cloth from the small stone table beside him, dabbing sweat from his temple. “Your name is Verus? Did I hear that correctly in all of the insanity earlier?”

She took the cloth and handed it to him before backing up just a little to look him over. "You knew before I did that you were to be a gift to me. I am at a loss for the situation placed before us and have no plans other than to keep you alive and hopefully set you free."

Verus almost let out a smile at the guards treatment of him, and the way they were reprimanded by the princess. It was comical, to say the least, seeing seasoned guards treated almost as lowly as him, for their actions against him. He found it strange to think that, despite everything, when it came down to it, if he wanted the princess dead, she would be dead. As would the guards to his left and right, though he would probably be far too wounded by the end of it to relish the victory.

It was strange what they taught you, when one was educated to be a gladiator. He'd expected combat training, beating, degrading acts, things to break a mans will, forge them into a slave. Oh, there was plenty of it, but there were also conditions far greater than that of a lowly slave, as they were even beneath the gladiators. They couldn't make them the denari that made the games so profitable. There were... Other classes, as well. The ability to give a massage was taught, oddly enough, or more specifically, learned. With the vigorous training they went through, the muscles would need to be relaxed, and so they would be massaged to prevent the muscles from cramping. Usually, it was easy enough to learn how to give one from repeated experience.

After he asked his questions, his eyes followed her across the room. If she were to pay attention to his expression, Claudia would find it to be thoughtful, and curious, rather than baleful or suspicious. The first thing though, that truly made him wonder what her motives were, was the removal of the irons around his wrists, instinctively bringing a hand up to rub against his left wrist, soothing the pain that came now, as the numbness fled.

The gladiator tilted his head towards her, allowing better access to his temple as the cloth patted at it. "You did hear correctly, Claudia. My name is Verus, and I have been given to you to fight for your honor." The last part was added on in such a false tone, that it was clear he was mocking what his purpose was now. Taking the cloth, Verus slid it up his arms, wiping away the sweat and dirt from his training. "I knew that I was to be a gift, two days ago. To you though? This came as a surprise to me. One can only hear so much from the overactive mouths of guards."

Satisfied that he was as clean as a damp cloth would make him, Verus replaced it gently on the table, glancing to Claudia curiously. "I have to wonder, why you're so confident in my honor. Given the circumstances, I know that about half of the men I trained with would have you on that bed right now, trying to take one thing or another from you, consequences be damned. Even if the guards were to come in, they would try to take your life as a final act of spite against the woman who now owned him." He let out a long sigh, directing his full attention to her.

"However, I am not so foolish as to throw my life away. Not when I've been given this trust, if that is what you've given me. I find myself grateful for it, if it truly is trust." He considered the circumstances for a moment, before letting out a helpless chuckle. "You say that your goal is to free me? Perhaps I deserve my bondage. Personally, I think this is a bit much, but you don't know the crimes I suffered to be put in this position. Don't worry, however, I didn't murder anyone, nothing of that caliber. My crimes are more simple than that."

He searched around for a seat, and decided that a nearby wooden chair would do. Verus carried himself much differently than what a slave would. He had a sense of pride about him, a sense of power. Not regal power, or authority, but raw physical power. Sitting down, the muscles in his shoulders rippled underneath his shirt as his arms moved around. "Regardless, I still find myself in a curious position. Until you figure out what to do with me, exactly, I offer you this. I'll fight your battles, I'll be your champion, and I'll bring you the glory that my gifting was supposed to give. All I ask if that you treat me as a man, behind closed doors or no."

Her perfectly shaped fingernails ran back and forth along her chin as she watched him, his words grinding against her nerve endings as yet she'd been taught from an early age to told tight to a facade of indifference or at least one of relaxed emotionality. Darkened jade eyes traced along his handsome face, the stubble on his chin and cheeks nothing more than a sign to her that it'd been no more than a day since he'd been allowed to clean himself and shave. He was lovely to look upon, the strong movements of his upper body showed strength beyond imagination and yet he was weary and tired. Perhaps more so from the trip than the emotional roller coaster that he'd been on, but she'd guess it was a bit of both if cornered to speak reality.

She nodded at him. "Its the look in your eyes that tells me that you mean me no harm. You appear to be intelligent enough to not bow before the appropriate time and you've made it this far in a journey meant to bring you harm I would imagine, so a moment of pleasure before death seems less likely, but I could be wrong." A soft smirk formed on her lips and she simply shook her head, long chestnut locks moving about her as she did. Her hands dropped to her side, touching the edge of her sapphire satin gown and playing with the material as he continued to speak.

Little did he know that the sound of his voice gave her subtle hints as to his personality, her studies of people and history itself giving her insight into things beyond that of what her age might allow. The deep timbre of his voice was hinted with honor and politeness, his deep masculine tones telling her that he was not afraid, but rather confident in himself regardless of the situation laid before him. He was strong and showed only a few small cuts and bruises, the rest of his body from what she could observe seemed to be unharmed. It simply meant that he won more often than not. There was no way her father would bring a slave to defend her honor if he were not the best... if he were not the gladiator of the other gladiators. So many tale tell signs of his strength, this ability and his character. She kept all these things to herself, speaking only when he paused and looking upon him in earnest hopefulness.

Her face flushed at one comment and she spoke up, a bit of strength in her response as she stepped forward and squared her shoulders, "No one deserves bondage. No one should hold the power to remove from man the only thing that makes him man - his humanity. That emperors and generals find it fitting to belittle and strip other males of their dignity and place in the natural order of things makes me ill to the depths of my soul."

She let him finish, quite unsure what his last remark meant. Treat him like a man? She tilted her head to the side a little, pondering on what he could possibly mean by that. What else would she treat him like? He didn't know her well enough to know that she would give respect when he earned it and she would speak to him as an equal because he, like herself were capable of speaking to each other in a manner that bleed respect and humanity at best. She let the comment slip, simply nodding before moving to the door of her room and opening it, a guard turning toward her as if he thought harm had befallen her.

"What is it, princess? Is something wrong?" He moved toward her as if to enter the room. She placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back out with care.

"We're hungry. Have the chef prepare a platter of food from the party and send it with crimson wine as soon as possible." She touched her stomach and beckoned the guard move and close the door. Turning to Verus she simply stood still, her hand on her tummy and a look of genuine concern on her pretty face. "When is the last time you had a meal?"

Her words were very strange to a man who had been taught for years of his life that he was a slave, that he was to be nothing more than that. He would never be given the right to buy his freedom, the emperor would never take notice of him and give him his freedom. No, he would fight until death came for him, and there was simply nothing that Verus could do against it. Even if he tried to escape, fight his way out, it would destroy any honor he had left.

Gladiators were taught that a loss was to be accepted humbly, and that if death came for you, you were to accept it. As it stood, Verus had only killed one gladiator in the field. He was unpopular, ending fights with dirty tricks that the audience didn't enjoy. When his blade came around to try and cripple Verus, permanently, he had instead dashed around it, slamming the butt of his own blade into the mans head. The concussion he had almost certainly received would've made him incapable of fighting for weeks, but instead, the audience called for his blood.

So Verus had acted, plunging his blade into his throat, staring down with emotionless eyes as he gurgled his last. 'You're here until you die.' The cheers of the crowd consoled the man on what he had believed to be murder, but soon he was taught that it was simply his job. He was congratulated on one of the best fights the people had seen in some time, and had even been given wine and meat with his next meals. The luxury of victory, to promote more.

"Perhaps not then, but your people would still have us believe otherwise. What makes you so different, to hate the spectacle of the fight then?" He stood up, a small smile on his face. "The allure of the... glory." He took a step towards her, though nothing overly threatening in his stride. The large man would seem intimidating, though, his form easily larger than Claudia's in every way. Another step was taken, his smile slowly widening. "The taste of wealth, the tang of blood in the air? Surely it must be captivating to watch, after all, I've already had so much money poured into me as it is..."

His voice ended with a small chuckle, clearly mocking his own existence at this point. The girls morals were strange, but not unwelcome. If she would treat him like a man instead of a beast, like someone who deserved more than he'd been given, than so be it. He would have no qualms with such a kindness in his life. He stood to the side as she ordered a guard to retrieve them a meal, his smile diminishing but never fully disappearing.

Her next question took the gladiator by surprise, but he was prepared for it. "Yesterday. I'm too much of an investment not to feed, though I can't say the meals were quality. Old bread, and beans. Water too, but even that was stagnant and dirty. Can't be given what a normal man would be, afterall. I'm much lower than them, not even worthy of their luxuries. Not unless I make them happy, fight for them, make someone else disappoint them." Again, a complete mockery and insult to what he was, though his tone clearly didn't take itself seriously. "Still, I certainly look forward to wine and food fit for nobility."

Strange how his tone could shift from mockery to eagerness. Verus was certainly a strange man, one who looked forward to ups in his life. He was hoping that he would make his life a little easier, if for some reason this entire thing was a ploy to make him fight better, by attaining victory at the fighting tomorrow. If nothing else, it would prove his strength to both Claudia and her father. Prove that he was worth the price that had been paid for him.

His words gave her pause and even more so the fluctuation in his emotions whether being sarcastically comical or straight forward and real. When one had to play the game of appeasing others it often wore at the very fabric of their character, leaving them in a sea of turmoil more often than not. She hoped to provide a bit of consistency for him and yet truly didn't understand her own desire to care or give anything other than what her father had taught her to dish out - retribution and slavery. He was a tyrant of sorts and she was not interested in the slightest in his methods or his madness.

He spoke of various things she'd brought up, slowly take a step toward her and then another as she stood her ground, her posture quite regal and yet relaxed, no sign of fear or trepidation. He was an imposing figure but she had confidence in her skills and in her own ability to read people and their intentions. If he were to murder her in her sleep she truly figured she deserved it for her ignorance. She took the last three steps to stand just before him, her long hair reaching out to brush along his skin as she lowered her head, her thoughts on how much she hated the idea of anyone defending honor that was already bestowed.

Slowly her head tilted until she looked up at him, her body almost touching his as she lifted to her toes and looked him in the eyes, her breath brushing across his lips. "For your bravery you will be worshiped as a God, but for your charity in the ring I shall respect you as a man. Do not take lightly that I abhor death and unmerited vengeance." She leaned forward as if to kiss him, her lips almost touching his before turning and walking toward the door, her movements relaxed a languid, a woman well aware of her power in the courts and yet able to care and extend kindness because her heart beckoned her to.

The door opened just before she reached it and three young maidens brought in several large platters of food, meats and cheeses, grapes and olives and various types of bread in slices. A tall thin male moved in behind them with a large jug of deep crimson liquid and two stone glasses, everything placed on a large table that ran the length of her room. She thanked then and picked up a grape, pressing it to her lips and inviting him to join her before she started to try a bit of this and that. "Do come and join me. Gather your strength from the food my father has to offer and when you're ready you can use my bath area to clean up and then we rest."

She moved back, her small plate filled with various bites from the platter and in her other hand was a glass of wine, the pungent aroma from the fermented fruit filling the room with something that called for carnality and passion all in the same moment. She sat down on one of the stone crafted chairs and crossed her legs, her glass finding residence beside her on a small table as she watched him closely. Where would he stay that night? Should she ask the guards to find him a room or would they mistreat him with her father's orders as their escape route?

Would he try and kill her as she slept, or press her to the softness of her reprieve and take from her that which no man had held in his grasp? Innocence was a beautiful thing and not to be taken lightly. Was she playing along the razors edge or was her first impression correct upon meeting this man who appeared so much more than perhaps he was given credit for?

Verus nodded simply at her words. So then, she would not want him to kill in the arena, if he could avoid it. There was an issue in that, than, in that if the crowd wanted blood... They would receive it. The man couldn't simply ignore the bloodthirsty savages that called themselves people who gawked down as men, MEN, spilled their blood into the sand. Nor could he ignore the wishes of the emperor, who would almost certainly want to see him fight, make sure that the investment was worth it. Make sure he had the stomach to serve the royal family.

He movement caught him by surprise, Verus half-expecting her to actually go through with it. However, he also knew that she would almost certainly not be so... Free with her body towards him. Thus, there was no surprise when she instead turned away, walking towards the door with an almost prophetic prediction. Or perhaps it was simply luck, or maybe she hadn't intended to intercept the meal at all. Regardless, the door opened up before her, multiple platters laden with very enticing food being laid out on a table. The thing that caught his attention the most, however, was the jug of wine. Verus had, like all Romans, partaken of the drink several times, though not recently, and he highly doubted any wine he'd had would match up to the drink fit for royalty.

He walked over to the table, looking over the food with an almost suspicious look. It had been about a year since his last meal that he'd actually enjoyed, and nothing could equal the feast offered before him. He moved his hands about carefully. He seemed even more tense about picking the food up, despite how confident he'd been earlier. When it came down to it, Verus was still humbled by what he'd been offered, and truly didn't know how to react. He assumed that Claudia would likely find his actions humorous as well, given how uncomfortable he looked. Eventually though, Verus relaxed enough to begin eating normally, using the slices of bread with the meat and cheese. That was one meal that he did know, though it was still much higher quality than anything he'd eaten before. The same went for the grapes, Verus popping a few into his mouth and closing his eyes as the sweet taste flooded his mouth as they popped under his teeth.

Reaching over, he brought up his stone glass of wine, bringing it to his lips and taking a large draft of the crimson drink. The entire time, he'd been silent, focusing more on enjoying his meal rather than talk. He also ran over her words through his mind several times, thinking of what she had told him. A bath, this meal... Hell, his life was already better for having been given to her. At this rate, he would be glad to serve her... Not that he'd let her know that, of course. He still had to maintain his appearance, maintain that he was still to be treated as a human. If he acted like a servant, as a slave, in the end, she would treat him like one.

"I must say... I feel that you missed a great party on my behalf..." He let out a soft chuckle, before eating another piece of bread, chewing the soft stuff with his eyes closed again. "You're being much kinder to me than I had expected you to be... I feel that I need to thank you for that, given that you have no reason to do anything other than throw me into a cage and let me out once in awhile to stretch my legs. As I said before, I'll do my best to follow your wishes... I owe you that much atleast." He sounded grateful, but at the same time firm. He wasn't groveling, he was stating mere facts, and they were truthful in their entirety. His new owner treated him better than anyone else had in years. He had no reason not to be grateful, for such kindness.

A smile touched the edge of her mouth at his comment, a soft huff at the very thought that the party was anything resembling great. She stood and finished her wine, releasing the glass to stand upon a small table and walking toward the large ornate window at the back of her room. She moved the heavy crimson curtains as he continued to speak, her head turning slightly at his gratefulness, though begrudging as it sounded. She laughed softly again for her merriment at the situation was too much to contain. How she'd ended up in this place with a human male as a gift from the emperor was beyond her. She was so different from her royal family and yet she was stranded here much like her new toy was stranded beside her.

"Do not let my father's antics fool you. The party was for no one save him. He shows the public only what he wants and lavishing his only daughter is a facade that all believe and most covet." She let the curtains drop, the sun far removed from the blanket of cream-colored clouds that sat in the night's sky. The evening was quite lovely with a spectacle of stars on display and she considered for a moment the bliss that might be found walking bare-footed in the garden just beyond the palace, but reject the thought namely due to not knowing what to do with Verus.

She turned and pressed her back to the curtain, her thoughts moving in a circular momentum between what might happen in the ring and even more so what a victory for Verus or defeat might look like. She nibbled at her lip, her fingers drawn to a long strand of dark hair as her eyes glazed over a little and a soft song hummed from her chest. She lifted her shoulders as if accepting defeat from her thoughts and exhaled softly. "I do suppose that kindness and graciousness are not offered to men who've been taken captive. I would plead ignorance to hear your story, but I suppose it will be something I can look forward to unfolding over the time we are together."

A soft knock at the door pulled her from her monologue and she called for whomever to enter. The servants moved about the room, leaving only a small platter with bits of meat, bread and fruit at her request. They cleaned up the rest and left Verus alone with her once more. She sat again in the chair she'd let grow cold and tucked her feet and legs under her, peace exuded from her persona. "Just answer me one thing before you take to the bath. Did you have a family before you were taken captive? A wife or children? A mother or father that you looked after? I don't mean to pry, I'm just interested to the depths in which men must harbor hate to strip those with depends away from them without care or concern."