Whisper by Alyson Noël Read Free Book Online Page B

easily, with a beautiful lilt I never could’ve managed. “Which translates to bread and circus. The bread being that which they throw to the crowd during the course of the games in order to keep them fed throughout a long day, and the circus being the games themselves. ‘ Keep the lower classes appeased by bread and circus, and they will be yours ’—or so it was said. But make no mistake, the upper classes were just as enthralled. I once considered
the games and all of those horrible deaths as the highest form of amusement. But then, one day, one of those deaths touched me personally, and from that moment on, everything changed …”
    I stayed silent, clinging fast to her words. Realizing she’d just revealed something deeply personal, and wondering if the hint was intentional. Everything about her seemed calculated—there was nothing careless about her.
    Was she referring to Theocoles? I’d seen the way she’d gazed down at him from her perch on the balcony. Clearly she’d known him, but how? Had they been close? The idea of it seemed impossible. They were from two different worlds—two different worlds that sometimes overlapped, but still.
    “Weren’t all of the gladiators slaves?” I asked, trying to keep my tone casual, figuring she’d cut me off the second she sensed I was prying. She had an agenda—of that I was sure—one she controlled as tightly as she controlled her own world.
    “Yes,” she said. “Though while it is true that the majority of them were slaves, make no mistake—they were among the strongest, bravest, most fierce of all. My uncle had an eye for these things. Other ludus owners watched him quite closely in the slave markets, trying their best to outbid him, but they rarely succeeded. My uncle had very deep pockets,
along with a sort of second sight—a gift for these things—if you could call that a gift.” She waved a dismissive hand, causing the sparkling ring on her finger to catch and reflect the torchlight. “Though, that’s not to say that they all began as slaves. I know it may seem strange to you, but there were also those who volunteered, those who signed a contract with my uncle—eagerly exchanging their time and talents for the possibility of winnings and glory. Being a gladiator held its own unique brand of honor—they were both respected and feared. You must realize, Riley, that the Colosseum easily housed up to fifty thousand people, and more often than not, it was filled to capacity. I guess you could say they were like the rock stars of their time—they ruled the arena like gods. Boys who hailed from soft lives and nobility mimicked their moves, while countless women swooned over them—their affections displayed in the small, blood-dipped swords they’d pin in their hair.”
    She slewed her eyes to the side, her face taking on an expression I couldn’t quite read, and despite hearing everything she’d just said, there was one part in particular that I couldn’t quite grasp.
    “So you’re serious—people actually volunteered to fight in the arena, and risk a grisly, violent death?” My eyes grew wide. I couldn’t imagine such a thing. From what little I
knew, the arena had been a savage and brutally terrifying place.
    “There were many reasons for that,” Messalina snapped, her voice adopting an annoyed, impatient tone. “Some more complicated than others, I might add.” I was just about to gently prod her for more, when she waved her hand before her, smiled sweetly, and said, “So, tell me, what do you think of the party?”
    I glanced around the room, not quite sure how to answer. Suddenly feeling shamed by my initial reaction of awe, the thrill of being part of it all, and no longer able to view my surroundings in quite the same way as before.
    All of those bright, shiny people who seemed so glamorous just a few moments ago, now appeared savage and depraved, immoral and bloodthirsty in the very worst way. All of those servants bearing the