Love of the Gladiator (Affairs of the Arena Book 2) by Lydia Pax

on the Wall of Turmedites. They would not let me see him fight. Not even when he died. I will fight as murmillo, now.”
    Lucius let the spoonful of gruel in his hand pass back down to table. He pushed the bowls away. Flies circled around the food, landing and taking off in short circuits.
    By this time, the mess hall had mostly emptied. They had the place practically to themselves, outside of the cook circling around the tables and cleaning up the dishes left behind. He wiped with a heavy rag that filled the hall with soft swooshing sounds.
    “What name did he fight under?”
    “My father, he was a lean man. Dark hair. Very tan. He looked Greek so long as no one saw his tattoos. His were like mine, easily hidden under armor,” she pointed to her shoulders. “So they called him Leonidas.”
    “Leonidas the murmillo, hmm? When did he die?”
    She considered for a moment. “He fought to his death some five years ago.”
    Lucius drummed his fingers, clearly lost in thought. The cook walked by and Lucius handed him the still half-full bowl of gruel he did not finish. He had a ball of something in his mouth that he sucked on, making his mouth twitch every few moments. She enjoyed looking at the shape of his face up close, in detail like this. He had a pleasant face. It was a face that made it easy to let her imagination run away from her.
    She could see it, perhaps, as the first sight when she woke up in the morning. Maybe they were far away from here, in a field somewhere. On the run together, fighting at each other's backs.
    “I thought that I wanted to fight against the Titan once upon a time,” he said finally. “I was close to it, too. Very close.”
    “The Titan of Rome?”
    “You know him, huh?”
    “I know all about the arena. I know as much as someone can know without being there. So yes, I know of the Titan. I know he is undefeated. I know he fights only to the death. I know that he refuses freedom so that he can continue to fight.”
    The look he gave her was of mild surprise.
    Oh yes, she thought with biting sarcasm. The girl can't know anything about the arena. Nor can she fight in the arena, oh no. It would be as sacrilegious as a champion like him sharing his bed with a woman who wasn't drooling after his every piece of heavily muscled, chiseled beauty.
    She would not drool after him. Even if she could feel a part of her desperate to sink her teeth into his chest. She would not.
    “Well. I was high in the rankings,” he said. “Undefeated in this town for years. They wanted a big show—a big memorable game for the Saturnalia. But I got sick. Down for weeks in my bed. Fevers. Shakes. Weak limbs. Head clogged full of snot, the works.”
    “You didn’t fight him.”
    “No. The man who fought in my place was a veteran from the Near East. Probably better than I was, and a retarius besides. A noble champion. I hoped one day to fight him in the ring too.”
    “But he didn’t win,” said Gwenn. “The Titan is undefeated.”
    “That’s right. He didn’t win. He was slaughtered wholesale. The Titan toyed with him for a bit. Put on a show. But for the Titan, the sands are a butcher’s block, and he’s the butcher.”
    “I’m sorry you didn’t get to fight him. Maybe you would have found a way to win.”
    Lucius shook his head. “You’re not hearing me. Dreams...they get you nowhere in this life. Probably death is on the end of them. You have this eagerness to fight. It’s like you’re optimistic about it. Even someone like Flamma,” he pointed out to the cell blocks, “doesn’t have your attitude. He’s all about glory. Honor. I mean, me too, don’t get me wrong. But you want this because it’s all the life you’ve imagined. It’s nuts.”
    “It’s what I want. I will fight as murmillo. I will win the crowd. They will know what I can do. They will want more of me.”
    At this, Lucius snorted with laughter. “Come now. You don’t really believe that, do you?”
    “Why shouldn’t