Free Empire of Dust by Eleanor Herman

towel, and she steals a glance at Ochus, who has removed his tunic and stands in his baggy checkered trousers and boots. He has an incredible physique. His shoulders are broad, his biceps enormous, his stomach flat as an anvil and chiseled like a temple statue. If he wasn’t so obnoxious, and if she didn’t love Cosmas, maybe she wouldn’t feel so revolted.
    She swallows hard. She has to do this as she is. Now. For Cosmas .
    â€œOchus,” she says, approaching him. But she’s chosen the wrong moment; he ducks his head into the basin, and then resurfaces, water droplets dripping down his face. He reaches for a towel.
    â€œOchus,” she says again, trying to keep her voice low and throaty.
    â€œUh-huh,” he grunts, the sound muffled by the towel.
    She stands and puts her hand gently on his arm. He stops drying and looks at her in expectation. “Well, what is it?” he asks.
    â€œSo...so many nights we have spent together on this long journey...” She falters, not knowing what to say next as he tosses the towel, crosses his arms, and looks at her. It’s not coming out right. She sounds stupid.
    Cosmas always told her that her lashes, thick and long and black, were extremely beautiful against her dark blue eyes, and now she tries to peer up at him through them, blinking slowly.
    â€œDo you have dust in your eyes?”
    â€œI feel fine,” she snaps back. By all the gods, why did she think it would be a good idea to try to seduce this impossible man?
    â€œI...I just wanted to—to—” What should she do next? Panicking, she reaches out to try to flirtatiously touch him. Her hand now on his shoulder, she doesn’t know what to do with it, and so she just stares at her small and helpless hand against the audacious curve of his bicep. One second drags on. Then two.
    Suddenly, she realizes his shoulder is shaking, and she looks up to find Ochus laughing silently. As soon as he sees her looking, his laughter bursts out like an ox’s bellow.
    â€œYou are amazingly awkward at seduction, Zotasha,” he says, using the fake name she gave him. “But then, I suppose all virgins are.”
    Flushing, Zo looks down at the floor, caught off guard by the word virgin. What will he do if they are together long enough that he realizes she’s with child? But they’ll never be together that long. It is so early that Zo wouldn’t be sure of it herself if the soothsayer in the cage next to hers on the slave cart hadn’t told her.
    He hasn’t even seemed to notice she hasn’t bled over the weeks they’ve been together. But then again, men usually don’t want to know such things, Mandana told her. They are more afraid of a woman’s monthly blood than seeing their own gushing out on the battlefield.
    As Ochus’s laughter continues, she grinds the knuckles of her right hand into the palm of her left, wishing she could just disappear. She’s never been so mortified in her life. She’s too embarrassed to even yell at him. Finally the laughter stops, but Zo keeps her eyes on the floor. She can’t look at him.
    â€œNo reply, little temptress?” Ochus says. When she’s silent, he sighs. “It’s no fun if you don’t rise to the bait.” Zo hears him walk across the room. Then he’s back in front of her.
    â€œSince I can’t believe you really want to seduce me, I can only assume you want me to take off your chains,” Ochus says, his voice kinder. “All you need do is ask. Hold out your hands.”
    Startled, Zo obeys. She looks up to see him pull the key from his pocket, unlock the shackles, and remove them. She has a sudden image of a sweating, trembling ox when its owner removes the heavy yoke from its shoulders. This must be what it feels like. Lightness. Freedom. Kindness.
    He takes her hands in his and turns them upside down, examining the pink marks on her wrists. His hands are