In the locked alcove the empress Brenna's regal authority stirs the surrender Bram has denied for years. His fear of fading into irrelevance is what her command answers. Every touch she allows tightens the chain of command he secretly craves, and he comes back for more of it. Her rule offers the purpose he has sought on battlefields, yet in Rome it risks everything they hold.
She orders him to stay still, her voice edged with the ownership she will not name. The cane waits on the wall, and every count she gives is one he asked for. Rome would ruin them both for it. How far will he go to earn her discipline?
