The first thing that Livia did after she finished her last class of the semester was head over to Corvin and his cousin Terrance’s place. Felicity wanted to study for finals together, still relying on their companionship to ward off her homesickness. So Livia came prepared with her books and a plate of cookies.
“Brain food,” Corvin said as he snatched a cookie and took a bite out of it. He made a noise of pleasure. “You make the best cookies, Livia.”
“How can I help you study?” Livia asked. “Flashcards?”
Her ex, Arik, liked the flashcards Livia made for them when they were in Chemistry together. They always aced the tests in that class.
Corvin looked surprised. “I’m writing a final paper. So, while I find your offer sweet, it will slow me down.”
“Oh.” Livia’s cheeks heated, embarrassed.
He probably didn’t need study aids. His Lupus House intelligence would eradicate any need for things like flashcards. Corvin smiled in an attempt to soften his words. His head tilted to the side, and one of his brown curls fell over his eye. Livia’s heart did a flip. She’d wanted for ages to push that curl back over his ear. They were dating now, so there was no reason to stop herself. She lifted her hand. She froze in mid-air when Corvin’s expression turned hesitant.
Now he looked confused. “What are you doing, Liv?”
“I-your hair is…in your eye…” she explained awkwardly.
Corvin tilted his head forward. Livia took that as an invitation. She pressed the stray curl behind his ear, but the brief touch of his hair wasn’t enough. Livia ached to feel his hair’s silky softness against her skin. She toyed with the curls behind his ear, realizing her Taurus sensory cravings had awakened with a vengeance. That only happened when she was exhausted. They called it Taurus tired.
“I need a haircut,” Corvin admitted.
“I like it.” Livia enjoyed the opportunity to give him a compliment.
Corvin rested his hands on her waist, easing her closer. Goodness, his touch felt like heaven. Automatically, Livia pushed her hand into the hair at the nape of his neck, letting her fingers card through the long strands there. She’d worked so hard on her classes this week, but this simple contact melted away days of built-up stress in moments.
“What final are you studying for tonight?” Corvin asked.
Livia didn’t answer at first. She was so absorbed by the feel of his hair that she didn’t realize he’d asked her a question. Corvin laughed. He eased her against his body. Livia found that so delicious that she closed her eyes and savored the contact. Yet, she found it a little disconcerting too. Livia would find it hard to turn Corvin down if he pressed for more intimacy. She sensed her vulnerability acutely but didn’t want to pull away. Livia forced herself to open her eyes. That’s when she realized she’d forgotten to answer his question. She opened her mouth and then realized she couldn’t remember which class she was studying for—
“It has lots of vocabulary words to memorize,” Livia said, trying to jog her memory.
Corvin was flirting now. He lowered his head so his nose brushed her cheekbone. “Is that why you’re making flashcards?”
“Umm-hmm,” Livia barely managed. His closeness was so pleasant. She pressed her hand further into Corvin’s hair, lightly massaging his scalp. The pressure against her fingertips was amazing. She tilted her head back and took in a shaky breath. She wished he would lower his lips to her skin and set every inch of her ablaze.
Corvin inhaled a deep breath and exhaled. “That feels really nice.”
His face was so close to hers now. He could kiss her. Livia could feel her expression begging him to do it. She could feel her exhaustion now, pulling the energy out of her. Livia wanted to fight it by pulling Corvin’s lips down to hers to erase the fatigue with pleasure. Livia should never let herself get this tired again. It was dangerous to tempt irrationality to this extent. Terrance and Felicity were on the couch, attempting to ignore them. Livia bit her lip and denied herself what she desperately wanted. “Anatomy.”
“Anatomy?” Corvin murmured.
“That’s what I’m studying tonight. It’ll be my hardest final, so I’m taking it last. Then I’m driving home to Caesarea–”
“On Friday, right?”
Livia slid her hand from his hair and removed herself from his embrace. “What?”
“That’s when I’m leaving,” Corvin said, easing his hands into his back pockets. “We should leave together.”
Livia shook her head. “No.”
“No?” Corvin blinked in surprise. Then his eyes roved her face, searching for answers.
“I don’t want to wait till Friday,” Livia said. She’d planned to return to Caesarea by mid-week if she could manage it. Corvin didn’t like her answer. She could tell. His disapproval made her eyes sting with moisture. Livia was filled with frustration over her fragile state. She’d let herself get too tired.
Corvin backed down at her show of emotion. “We can discuss this another time.”
Livia returned to her bag, gathered her flashcard-making supplies, and got to work. The repetitive action of drilling flashcards numbed her profound exhaustion. For the next two hours, Livia was quiet and industrious. Terrance and Felicity took frequent breaks, chatting often. Corvin sat on the couch, silent and focused. The clicking sound of his fingers against his computer keys was a steady background noise.
Livia was so focused she didn’t realize that Felicity had packed up her stuff until the sound of the front door closing startled her. She had left. Only a few crumbs remained on the plate of cookies Livia had brought. Terrance had curled up on the couch and fallen asleep. The sound of typing had stopped. Livia’s gaze shot to Corvin, panicked.
“How late is it?” she asked.
“You can stay as long as you want.” Corvin put his computer aside. “Do you want me to quiz you?”
“You don’t have to–”
“I’d like to,” he said.
Without waiting for her answer, Corvin sat before her and grabbed some of her homemade flashcards. Corvin shuffled through them. He didn’t even have to look at the backside.
“These are the cards you made for the os coxae and crus,” Corvin said.
Livia was immediately intrigued. “You know anatomy?”
“A lot of it is Latin,” Corvin gestured to the cards. “The fibula, for example, was a pin used to hold folds of cloth together. The shin bones look similar to a safety pin. The tibia is the Latin word for flute because, in the prehistoric and classical era, flutes were carved out of animal shin bones.”
“I didn’t know that,” Livia said.
Corvin smiled. “Well, now you do.”
Livia pulled her textbook into her lap and studied the lower leg bones. “It does look like a safety pin. That’s fascinating. What else is Latin?”
Corvin shifted through the cards. “Here. The acetabulum. The cavity of the hip joint. Acetum is the Latin word for vinegar. An acetabulum was a small bowl used for vinegar. It’s confusing because the acetabulum is formed by three hip bones–the ischium, ilium, and pubis.”
Livia asked, “When did you learn anatomy?”
“It’s part of the training to become a TARP agent. We serve as first responders on search and rescue missions. We have to be able to identify and describe injuries. Often healers aren’t available, so we’re trained in emergency wilderness medicine too.”
Livia was about to ask another question when Corvin’s phone rang. He frowned at the screen.
“I don’t recognize the number, and no one told me to expect a call. So that means something crazy is about to go down.” He sighed, resigned, and answered the call. “Corvin, here.”
Hesitation and confusion warred for dominance of Corvin’s features. “Priscan…from Lupus House? Hortalus family?”
Livia thought that name sounded familiar. Wasn’t that Hortensius’ last name? He was from Aquila House. Corvin winced the next second, putting a hand over his heart. “Oh, Priscan! Benedict’s grandson. I’m so sorry I didn’t recognize your voice. How are things going? We haven’t talked—”
Corvin listened for a long time.
“Oh, no, can she do that? I thought Pinaria was still seventeen. And wasn’t she matched with Ancus?”
“On her birthday! You want me to tell Ancus?” Corvin’s voice rose in volume.
Livia had never seen Corvin so shocked before. As the voice on the phone spoke, Corvin only grew more agitated.
“Who did she elope with?” Corvin asked. “Spurius Marcellus? Priscan, I’m pretty sure that Marcellus is a plebeian family.”
Dismay was all over Corvin’s face. “I’ll call Ancus, but I’m pretty sure trying to talk your grandfather around is useless. I’d try to talk Pinaria into an annulment first.”
Corvin winced. “Look, I am being supportive. I’m informing Ancus, remember? Unless you want to do that—”
When Corvin hung up, he put his phone aside and ran his hands through his hair until it looked wild.
“What happened?” Livia whispered.
“Priscan is the grandson of Benedict, Paterfamilias of Aquila House. His little sister eloped on her eighteenth birthday, which caused a mess. Ancus planned to marry her—it was the ideal match. They were both Patrician, similar age, similar temperaments.”
“Are you going to call him now?”
Corvin sighed. “Might as well try. Last I heard, he was in Rome on vacation. It’s 5 here? It’s shy of midnight there. That might be the best time to get him at home—”
Fifteen minutes later, Corvin had Ancus on a video call. The young man had a sophisticated haircut and handsome features. His brown eyes peered anxiously into the phone screen. He looked younger than Corvin by several years.
“What terrible thing has happened?” Ancus asked first thing. “For you to video call, Corvin?”
Corvin laughed. Then he sighed. “I have some bad news.” Then he rushed to add. “Nobody has died or been injured.”
Ancus nodded. “Continue.”
“I’m sorry if this is a bad time. Are you still in Rome?”
“We just got in for the evening, so it’s pretty good timing,” Ancus said.
“How is the trip?” Corvin asked, hesitant.
“You’re trying to delay telling me? My heavens, what is going on over there, Corvin?”
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“Have you heard anything from Pinaria?”
“She sent her matched papers the day before her birthday,” he said.
Corvin’s eyebrow rose in surprise. “Did you respond yet?”
“We planned to when we returned from Rome.”
“Well, Pinaria eloped with Spurius Marcellus on her birthday—”
“What?” Ancus was in disbelief.
“Do you need me to repeat it?” Corvin asked, but gently.
“She eloped? With…Spurius?” Ancus repeated, confused.
“He is plebeian.”
“Well, what’s she going to do? She’ll be exiled for a year. Did she make plans for her finances? I’d ask if we could talk her Paterfamilias into leniency, but we all know that won’t happen with Benedict.”
“Priscan is working on it. He asked me to call you—”
“Oh, Priscan, ha! That coward? He couldn’t stand up to a fly. He’s a passive, people-pleaser.”
“He’s doing his best,” Corvin said.
“Look, I’ll deal with Benedict. There’s no use in exiling. It’s ridiculous.”
“Are you okay, Ancus?” Corvin asked.
Ancus sighed. “You know, Cor, we both had our doubts. We didn’t feel strongly about each other one way or another but figured why not give it a chance? You know? But now…well, I guess I don’t have to take that risk. On to other pastures and all that.”
“I’m sorry, Ancus,” Corvin said.
“Well, I better take care of this as soon as possible. Thank you for delivering the news, Corvin.”
“You can call anytime for anything, Ancus. I mean that. I’m here for you,” Corvin said.
Ancus laughed. “Thanks, Cor. It is nice to talk again.”
“I’m sorry these are the circumstances—”
“Better this than nothing, I’d say,” he said.
“I hope you enjoy the rest of your trip,” Corvin said.
Ancus laughed. “Not likely, but thanks for the sentiment anyway. Ciao, as the Italians say.”
“Ciao,” Corvin said.
“Corvin,” Livia asked after the phone call ended. “What happens when you’re exiled?”
Corvin heaved a sigh. “It’s a temporary exile for the length of a year. You can’t live in Caesarea, buy or sell property within a certain radius, or receive scholarships, grants, or House funds. If you have an account with the Caesarean Bank, they freeze your assets there. Often that tanks your credit, so you can’t apply for any loans or housing outside Caesarea. It makes survival hard unless you’ve established finances outside Caesarea.”
“If they can do that? Why does anyone deal with the Caesarean banks?”
“Cause that’s the only way to receive the funds for Senate and House-sponsored scholarships, grants, and welfare. I established a small savings account outside of Caesarean control while engaged to Cassia.”
“Did you plan to elope?” Livia asked.
“She mentioned it. I started to plan, but it was unnecessary.”
“Because she…died?” Livia asked.
“No, our parents approved with the condition we had a 12-month engagement, but then she died before….”
Livia didn’t make Corvin finish that thought. “So, did you close the account, or does it still exist?”
“It still exists. I haven’t added anything more to it since then. Unfortunately, sometimes political exiles happen, and I erred on the side of caution.”
“Hyrum told me never to mix my finances with the Caesarean bank. Everything is outside their system,” Livia said.
Corvin’s eyebrows rose. “Where did you get your paycheck deposited?”
“In my regular bank account,” Livia said.
“No one said you couldn’t do that?” Corvin asked. “That’s not standard practice. I’ve always thought they can’t pay you unless you have a Caesarean account.”
“Gaius had to sign off on it. Hyrum had Caecilia figure out the paperwork, and Gaius signed it.”
“And he didn’t have a problem with it?” Corvin asked.
“No,” Livia said. “He was fine with it.”
“Did he understand what he was doing?”
“Uh, I think so…he knew that’s what I needed to get paid.”
Corvin closed his eyes. “I don’t know if I agree with this or not. Usually, the benefits of being part of the financial system in Caesarea outweigh the risks of participating. The vast majority of exiled people have committed crimes against the community. Most people targeted for political exile have the connections to avoid—”
“Taurus House doesn’t have those connections—” Livia said.
Corvin caught her eyes with his. “You know I’d never let that happen to you, right?”
“Would you have said that to me a year ago?” Livia asked.
“Yes,” Corvin answered without hesitation.
Livia doubted his confidence. “I don’t think you would have.”
“I would have,” Corvin insisted. “But depending on what Caecilia did, you have no access to Caesarean aid, and Gaius does not influence your finances whatsoever.”
“That’s a good thing,” Livia said.
Corvin tipped his head side to side, hesitant. “It’s a double-edged sword. He can’t give you a scholarship or a grant.”
“I know, but I got a scholarship without relying on Caesarean funds. They don’t have a monopoly on scholarships and grants.”
Corvin inclined his head to acknowledge that point. “Most Caesareans don’t have credentials that those institutions would recognize and find it hard to qualify. Since you grew up outside Caesarea, you have a degree of independence many of us never manage.”
“You didn’t use Caesarean funds for your degree, right?”
“I am not the typical Caesarean,” Corvin said. “It’s easier for Lupus to pass outside Caesarea because our peculiarities are not physical, and we pass tests easily. Also, being the son of a Paterfamilias gives one access to wealth that’s not common. Granted, I’m not as wealthy as Ancus. Most of my finances are tied up in assets, but I know my situation is privileged.”
Livia admitted, “Sometimes when I have to confront how wealthy Quinn was—it’s bizarre. I don’t know if it will ever stop being disturbing to me. We were so poor, and there was all this money over here.”
“Does it make you angry?” Corvin asked.
“Yeah, and…I’ll never make the same decisions they did. I’d give aid where it wasn’t deserved because no one deserves to grow up like I did. No matter what.” The steel that entered Livia’s tone didn’t put Corvin off the way she expected.
He looked impressed with her, proud. Shouldn’t he be angry instead? Offended? Livia rechecked his expression. Hadn’t changed. He’d liked what she’d said.
He reached out an arm.
Livia stared at him, not trusting the gesture. It was late, and she was exhausted. She should go home.
“Come here, Liv,” he urged.
“Why?” she asked.
“I want to hug you.”
“Only hug me?”
Corvin laughed. “Yes. How does that sound?”
Still studying his expression, she eased into his arms. He wrapped her tight in his embrace. He whispered against her hair, “I’m sorry life wasn’t better, but I admire the goodness I see in you.”
The compliment took her by surprise, lowered her defenses, and softened how she held herself in his arms. Livia closed her eyes and relaxed into the delicious sensation of security that enveloped her.
****
A couple of days later, Livia parked outside Corvin’s place to drop off the baking pan he’d let her borrow. She had surprised her friends with a cake when their studying days had ended, and finals began. Returning the pan was the last thing on Livia’s list before she drove back to Caesarea. Livia completed her anatomy final this morning. Today, she planned to drive back to Caesarea to spend extra time with Hyrum.
It would be a relief to escape her empty apartment. Her roommate, Whitney, moved back home when classes ended. She wanted to spend more time with her siblings, who had flown in for the holiday season. Livia hadn’t seen or heard from her in five days. It was part of the reason she had hustled so hard to complete her finals. She didn’t want to be alone in the apartment anymore.
Cradling the baking pan under her arm, Livia approached Corvin’s door. She wanted to see him but considered leaving the pan on the doorstep without ringing the bell. She could text him to let him know the pan was there. There had been tension between them the last few days. Corvin still wanted her to wait to leave after he finished his last final on Friday. Livia couldn’t stand another two days of complete solitude in her apartment.
Before she could make her decision, the door opened. Corvin stood there, hair mussed and clothes askew. Livia wondered if he’d recently woken up.
“Hey,” she said. “I’ll let you get back to…resting—”
“I just finished my last paper. I’d appreciate the opportunity to take a break,” he said. “You returning the pan?”
Livia held it out to him. He refused to take it. Instead, he took a step back and gestured her inside. “Will you put it on the counter in the kitchen?”
It absolutely was one of those psychological tricks. Invite a person inside. Convince them to stay a little longer. Until it’s too late in the day to make the drive home—Livia saw it clearly. Livia also found the idea of staying tempting. Being alone all week had made her desperate for company.
She should drop the pan on the side table next to the door and say she didn’t have the time to chat. She had a long drive to make. Instead, she was looking past Corvin into the kitchen. The memory of their near kiss in front of the sink weeks ago flooded her mind. She climbed the porch step and stepped inside.
Her brain told her she was stepping right into Corvin’s trap. She reassured herself that she’d leave soon. She’d still make the drive. “You’re tricking me—” she murmured.
Corvin shut the door behind her. “Am I? Into what?” His tone was playful.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know.”
He laughed. “Is it a crime to want to spend a little time with you?”
“You’re not denying it,” Livia said. “You’re going to ask me to stay again.”
“Of course I am,” he said without shame.
Annoyed, Livia walked to the kitchen and set the pan on the counter.
“Can I take your coat?” Corvin asked.
“No, I’m not taking it off,” Livia said.
“Can I get you some water?” he offered.
“I’m not thirsty.”
“What about a hug? Are hugs forbidden, too?” he asked.
Livia huffed. That seemed reasonable enough. She could hug him goodbye. She stepped toward him and opened her arms. Corvin pulled her against him and then didn’t release her. Instead, he held her in his arms.
Livia needed to be held, and she didn’t push him away. The cold December air still lingered on her skin. His body was warm in contrast. He smelled musty—like dusty books and paper. Livia turned her face into his neck and nuzzled into his curly hair. After a moment, Corvin drew back enough to lower his lips to hers.
Livia only half-yielded, hesitating. She could feel the heat of his lips against hers, and she didn’t want to resist or push him away. The fact they wanted different things didn’t make his kiss feel any less good. That didn’t change the fact they wanted different things.
Corvin eased away, meeting her gaze. “Is kissing too much, Liv?”
Livia bit her lip, admitting, pained. “I like it so much.”
Corvin lowered his head again.
Livia shied away, panicked. “I’m not agreeing to stay—”
“It’s alright,” Corvin whispered. “This kiss is not an agreement. It’s just nice. I like you. I’ve missed you.”
Livia swallowed, trying to relax. “I’ve missed you too.”
Corvin tested a kiss on her cheek first before he tried again. When Livia didn’t pull away, he whispered his lips over hers. The touch of his lips seared through her. Livia held his bottom lip between her teeth to blunt the sensation. Corvin pressed his hand into her hair and drew his chin down to escape. Then nibbled her bottom lip in return. Livia’s eyes slid close as everything else disappeared.
Corvin kissed her carefully, switching between gentle teeth nibbles and brushes of his lips. Livia responded tenderly, letting herself be drawn into the sweet moment. Livia didn’t know how long they kissed, but she pulled away the moment it wasn’t pleasant anymore.
“I—I need to go,” she said brusquely, pulling away.
“Hold on, hold on.” Corvin, to his credit, didn’t physically prevent her from stepping away. Instead, he held his hands out between them in a pleading gesture. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “It’s just…time is up.”
“Was it nice? Was it good?” he asked.
Livia lowered her eyes. “For a long while—”
“Then it wasn’t. So you pulled away,” he clarified.
Livia nodded.
“Okay,” Corvin accepted that without any drama. “But Liv, Hun, I’d love to drive home together.”
“Did you think kissing me would change my mind?” Livia asked, defiant. She recognized assuming the worst intentions of Corvin was unfair. Those assumptions came from a place of mistrust that Corvin simply hadn’t earned. However, Corvin wasn’t some magical being that always had pure intentions and zero self-interested motives. She never figured out how to manage that gap with Arik. He’d call her out on not trusting him and—
“Can we keep our kissing and our disagreements separate, Hun?” Corvin asked.
Livia blinked in shock. She’d been preparing to defend herself from angry accusations. She didn’t expect calm questioning. “Is that possible?”
“I’d like it to be. I didn’t kiss you to keep you here. I kissed you because it was enjoyable.”
At that moment, Livia’s perspective shifted. Corvin might have tricked her into coming inside to kiss her, not trick her into staying. He might have even thought that was what she was implying earlier. He thought she was flirting and not accusing him of being controlling. Livia lifted her eyes to his, feeling less suspicious and less defensive.
Livia mirrored Corvin’s tone and calm demeanor. “Corvin, I drove to Cornelia alone, and I was fine. I don’t need to drive with you.”
Corvin nodded. “I know, but the weather is different this time of year and—
Livia gestured to the windows. “The weather is fine. The roads are dry.”
Corvin took a deep breath. The confusing thing about that was that Livia didn’t think he was doing it to hide his anger. Instead, he hid fear, even though his tone didn’t betray any. “I’m still worried about the possibility of black ice.”
Livia reassured him. “I’ll be careful.”
“Accidents happen even when people are careful,” Corvin said.
“I’m tough. I’m Taurus,” she said.
“That doesn’t make you immortal,” Corvin argued.
Livia pursed her lips together. She’d never thought Corvin was anxious, but he had campaigned against her plan since she told him about it. He wanted her to wait and drive with him. Corvin had even offered to let her live with him and Terrance for two days. Livia wasn’t comfortable with that and told him she was going home.
“I’m going home, Corvin,” she insisted the same way she had the last time they had this conversation.
“You can stay here with Terrance and me—”
“I don’t want to,” Livia said bluntly.
Corvin’s lips tightened together, and the light left his eyes. Livia didn’t want to hurt him but wanted to go home. Hyrum was trying to put on a brave face, but his recent negotiations with the Senate had brought out his cynical side. Caecilia was emotionally and physically exhausted from being pregnant. Livia had grown up with a lot of poor girls with older brothers. She considered the fact that Hyrum had held steady for her over the years, refusing to turn to crime, drug addiction, or suicide as a way out of their situation, as a personal miracle. That wasn’t something she ever took for granted. If Hyrum needed support, he’d earned the right to have her there. She had finished her responsibilities here. She wouldn’t put off helping Hyrum for two days to lounge around Corvin’s house.
“Corvin, look, Hyrum’s negotiating with the Senate right now. Caecilia is pregnant and sick. I—I need to be there for them right now.”
Corvin looked concerned. “Is everything alright, Liv?”
“Currently.”
“But you’re worried about Hyrum?”
Livia didn’t expect to get emotional, but she couldn’t maintain the even tone that Corvin always managed. “He’s had to be strong, Corvin. For our entire lives and…I want to be there for him right now.”
“So, I haven’t done anything….” Corvin trailed off.
“What?” Livia hadn’t even considered that Corvin would blame himself for her leaving early. Like he’d done something wrong. “No! We’re fine if you let me go the way I want. That’s all I need, Corvin.”
Corvin swallowed, muscles in his neck tight, before he answered, “I’ll miss you.”
“Corvin!” Livia laughed. “We’ll see each other in two days.”
“Call me halfway and when you get there.”
“I’ll text you halfway and call when I get there.”
“Deal.”
Livia walked out of Corvin’s house, knowing she’d won their argument, but it didn’t feel like victory. It made Livia nervous. Was this going to be how Corvin always acted? Was he going to worry and fret over her every time they were apart? She was an independent person. Part of the reason she insisted on driving alone was to force Corvin into accepting that.