The Death of Antinous || bxb ✔︎

AUDENTES FORTUNA IUVAT

"They're lovers, I know." The edge in his voice surprised him.

"They are much more than lovers." The gladiator lowered his head, submerging his chin in the water. "Hadrian has taken no other boys since his union with the little Greek. He honours him like a wife, and worships his beauty like a god. All of Rome bows down to him."

This made perfect sense and no sense at all. Antinous, though beautiful, did not want to be worshipped and adored. He had the heart of a warrior, and he was so shy his voice barely rose to a whisper when he sang. He remembered that private concert in his bedchamber fondly.

Perhaps that's why Antinous' words had wounded him so badly the night before. Leonides was convinced that he was special to him. That they were special to each other.

If Antinous felt all eyes upon him he did not show it. He tilted his head back, enjoying a good long soak.

"Should I go over there and say hello?"

"What?" Ingulf nearly choked on a quail's egg. "Absolutely not."

"No one is approaching him."

"Because they have sense."

"He looks lonely."

"Have you not listened to a word I've said?"

Leonides was a brave leader but terrible at taking orders.

"I'm going to say hello."

He rose and walked to the other end of the bath, hot water lapping against his chest.

Antinous did not immediately greet him or even acknowledge his presence. No matter, Leonides thought. It would take some time for them to get reacquainted. He simply needed to be reminded of the memories they shared.

"Hello—"

He barely got the word out before Antinous stood and walked back up the steps of the pool.

"I only wanted to—"

Antinous inched along the baths to the frigidarium. He sank into the icy waters until he was too cold to stand it, tied the bedsheet around his waist and left.

Ingulf snorted.

It was a blow but Leonides had been struck before. He wouldn't give up so easily. The soldier climbed out of the water and toweled off by the braziers, skin burning like hot coals, then slipped back into his tunic.

The boy hadn't bothered to dry himself. He followed the wet footprints on the stone path.

He kept his distance and did not make a sound as he stealthily neared his target. There were no other guests in this part of the villa. Only statues. Eight seated muses, Diana the huntress, and a bearded centaur that looked so much like Hadrian it could have been the Emperor himself cast in black marble.

Antinous entered the gardens behind a trellis of roses, the sheet around his waist dragging behind him like peacock feathers.

Leonides spied on him through the latticework.

This must have been his safe haven, for his lyre and parchment rested on the stone bench. Antinous picked up the instrument and absentmindedly plucked at the strings. When he was alone, his features softened and he was no longer a moody princeling at all, but the shy boy from Bithynia. He appeared sad and as the music swelled beneath his fingers, Leonides could have sworn he saw a tear forming in the corner of his eye.

He leaned forward to get a better look when a branch snapped beneath his foot.

Antinous' head shot up and his tearful expression turned to fury.