I jogged back slowly after sharing the alarming conversation I'd overhead. My father had clenched his jaw, the tendons in his neck straining, before letting out an exasperated grunt.

  “I need to talk to the twins,” he sighed.

  "Don't worry, Felix," Ursus had said, slapping him on the back. "We've got some good connections and I'll make it a priority to find out more."

  When I returned, the novicius had left and I felt a pang of guilt. In hindsight, it probably wouldn't have mattered if I'd delivered the news then or in a little while. I silently promised to give him the drink for free next time I saw him.

  I resumed my prep work, adding the juices I'd prepared into the waiting amphorae. They went into the covered floor basins behind me. This set up was half the reason why I'd also chosen this spot; a cold, underground spring ran right below to keep everything chilled. Otherwise, I would have had to pay for even more snow and ice to be delivered from the mountain province on the other side of Aeterna. What I did have arranged to be delivered would come every other day for me to pack into the basins lined with straw.

  "You must be Maximilia."

  I looked up to see two men walk across the courtyard. The sunlight through the trellis slid over the deep sepia skin of the first one. His tightly curled hair was cut short like a gladiator's and his aquiline nose flared wide at the nostrils.

  "And you must be Caelum."

  He raised his brow in surprise. "Oh?"

  I twirled a mixing spoon and pointed it at him emphatically. "Most people only care about the gladiators, but you? You don't escape my notice. Because who else is the reason why my favorite fighters get back on their feet?"

  Caelum Tirhaqa had become the medic for Ludus Invictus a year ago. And he also provided his services to the surrounding community when time allowed.

  He clasped his hands together with a pleased expression. I looked at his companion with reddish brown hair, high cheekbones, and narrow eyes so dark they were almost black. Tanned from fighting under the sun, his skin was covered in tattoos of patterned bands and animals—the man had taken to heart the traditional appearance of a Traex. They'd been neighboring people to the Romans, Aeterna's ancestors, and were made into a gladiator type.

  "And me?" he asked in a slightly hoarse voice.

  I tilted my head, a playful smile teasing the corner of my mouth as I pretended to think. "I believe you might be the Quintus Aelius."

  "Oh, then my tendencies probably precede me.”

  “No,” I countered immediately, meeting his eyes. "No. It's because I've never seen someone handle the sica as well as you do.”

  He tilted his head back, his shrewd eyes regarding me before shifting to the menu of drinks on the wall.

  "I can already guess which one he'll order and it isn't because of the flavor," Caelum said, crossing his arms. Quintus only grunted in response. "I'll have just the wheatgrass serving. Get him the Fortuna."

  The gladiator nodded.

  I bit my lip to hide my smirk as I took payment and began to work on their drinks. Named after the goddess of fortune and luck, the smoothie had peaches, apricot, honey, and cinnamon in an effort to give it a golden-like color. As for the wheatgrass, it was more than just the pressed juice. I added a hint of mint and a squeeze of citron to brighten the taste. Once done, I held out the drinks. The medic took his and thanked me, but Quintus hesitated.

  "Can you hand that to me with your other hand?" His fingers rubbed the small good luck charm tied around his neck, a phallus and fig hand joined together.

  “Oh. Of course! Sorry.” I switched it to my right hand and he gave me a terse smile. The tendencies he had referred to were about how incredibly superstitious he was.

  "Oh," Caelum said. Surprise filled his eyes. “You've made this tastier than it needs to be. Thank you, Maximilia. You'll definitely see me back here again."

  “Just call me Max,” I shouted after them with a wave, feeling rather smug even though Quintus only sipped on the drink slowly. I could tell he wasn't a fan of the peach, but he didn't say anything. Maybe next time I'd make a custom version for him.

  A steady murmur had filled the courtyard as patrons occupied the benches. I tapped my fingers on the counter in contemplation. Adding some planters for more greenery would be nice. It could also create pockets of privacy for people.

  The clink of precious stones hitting each other with every step alerted me to a new customer walking in. The jewelry was almost as gaudy as the toga. No one wore togas regularly, except for special events. They were just too cumbersome.

  "Welcome to my shop! What can I get you?"

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  He didn't answer, only looking around with a dismissive face. There was an overpowering fragrance of basil clinging to him. Although, at this point, it was less a fragrance and more a stench. His roaming eyes finally fell upon the slate menu behind me and a calculating look appeared in them.

  He pointed with his chin. "Who gave you that idea?"

  Immediately, I was annoyed. "Who said anyone gave it to me?"

  "Oh, come now. You must've taken the idea from someone." His mouth held a faint sneer while he looked me over.

  My fingers clenched the countertop as I held my tongue. Or tried to. "Rather than insult me, you're always free to leave."

  He put his hands on his hips with a flourish. "I'm Horatius Porcius, leader of the Romachia civitas. As a merchant—an incredibly wealthy one, I'll add—and upstanding member of this community, I have an interest in how businesses run around here. My wife Claudia was here yesterday—"

  I groaned out loud and he crowed triumphantly.

  "Oh, yes. She told me you were charging unfair prices with terrible service."

  I gaped at him. "She got a discount!"

  Horatius clicked his tongue. "And how are you storing the fruit? I hope you're not planning on serving spoiled juice." He said the last part loudly, turning a few heads.

  "Snow and an underground spring." My temper flared. Why was I even explaining this to him like he was an inspector?

  He narrowed his eyes. "And how do I know you went through the process properly for setting all of this up?"

  "Because it was approved by those over your head," I snapped. "And if you're going to throw connections and importance around like this, who do you think holds more weight? Someone like Felix Vita over there, a hero to Romachia for training their favorite champions, not to mention being his own legend? Or you, who hides behind your money and made up position?"

  While the outcomes were helpful, the civitas were just voluntary organizations of rich and important people who wanted to make a show of their wealth.

  A beet-red flush colored Horatius's face. "Why I'll shut this place—"

  "You'll do nothing," one of the patrons said in annoyance. Somehow, the burly centurion seemed larger and more menacing than when he'd stood before me not too long ago. Something about him made my blood race, itching to run the patrician down with a battle cry. "You and your wife and your petty squabbles. Shut up. Leave."

  Horatius’s mouth snapped shut and he spun on his heels, marching out. "This isn't over, girl!"

  "I don't even know what this is!" I shouted after him in confusion. Laughter from my patrons chased after him.

  "Ah, pay him no mind," the centurion rumbled. I couldn't tell if he looked young or old. But the menacing feeling didn't fade. If anything, it was a vaguely familiar sensation.

  "Next time you're in, have a free drink on me.” I seemed to be offering quite a few of those lately. “Thank you, uh..." I trailed off.

  "Marius. Send word if he gives you real trouble. It wouldn't be the first complaint on him. Perhaps we can throw him into the arena."

  I gave a small, nervous laugh. "I couldn't be that petty."

  He shrugged, visibly disappointed. "Suit yourself."

  The air felt a little lighter when he left, but the strange tightness in my chest that had built during that exchange didn't release. It lingered into the day's end. When Felix arrived, I was already waiting for him, sitting on the low stone wall that created part of the courtyard entrance.

  "Well, my daughter. I see you beat me to collecting the glassware." He looked almost disappointed and I snorted.

  Standing up, I hugged him suddenly. "I'm proud of you, you know," I murmured quietly.

  "What for? I should be saying that to you, not the other way around."

  I shrugged. "For everything."

  Felix had been running this training school for several years now after retiring from the gladiator life as champion. And he did it because he knew that while the arena's thirst for blood would never be quenched, he could do his part in making sure some would survive to see the next day.

  He rested his chin on my head. There were several grey strands in his beard now, making my heart twist painfully. "If you inspired it all,” my father said gruffly. “Is that something I should take credit for?"

  I swallowed as his arms wrapped around me in return. "Isn't it obvious? Yes. Because I probably wouldn't be here if it weren't for you." My voice was strained.

  “Ah.” Felix's embrace tightened around me and I took comfort in the familiar warmth. "Are you remembering?"

  I nodded. He'd never pressed me to tell him what had happened. At first, I couldn't. It had been far too fresh. But now the silence just caught in my throat as a habit. Once, I'd explained to him before that it was more like my body was reliving the emotions than actual memories flooding my mind. What set me off this time was how that centurion's presence had felt like an echo of that day. Or maybe it was because of the worry about Solis. Either way, I didn't feel right. But at the end of the day, it would fade and I'd be fine. Especially since Felix had been the reason why it had disappeared the first time.

  Heaving a sigh, I lifted my head and changed the subject. "It's been a while since we've trained together. Should I join your ludus?" I joked.

  My father grimaced. "Do that and they will hound you to fight each of them in challenge or to become a gladiator yourself. You fight too well for someone without actual combat experience."

  "Well, that's something you can take the blame for." I looped my arm through his. I'd given up my childhood daydreams of being a gladiator a long time ago, much to his relief, although he'd still trained me to protect myself. "Let's go home."

  We hadn't gotten far when Ursus ran up with Flavia.

  "Max," the big man said, his smile like honey before he turned to my father. "Well, we were able to make someone talk. Our Flavia here is the one who actually came through with connections. Her fist might have made a connection, too."

  I glanced at the gladiatrix who looked up and away, as if there was something interesting in the sky.

  "There will be two of them, you were right about that, Max. Brothers. And our illustrious Senate kept a lot of information from us. You know why we call them Solis, right?"

  I chewed on my lip. "They worship a sun deity like we worship Jupiter as the king of the gods.” We also had our own sun deity named Sol.

  "You're right." Ursus looked uncharacteristically grim. "But they make human sacrifices to appease theirs. And since they can't take prisoners anymore, they're out for blood. It's become a death match."

  had to include the quintessential bad customers. I'm sure most of us have that one customer we always remember...or customers.