Decimus stands beside me, overlooking the grassland beyond the camp. Above us, the sky is black as charcoal and stickered with stars, the inky shadows pooling at the edges of the nearest rust-coloured buildings where they devolve into alleyways.

Occasionally, we bump shoulders, which is about the most interesting thing about the night watch because we’ve been standing here long enough that my curls are frizzing, the humidity promising rain for the morrow.

But Decimus looks more like a soldier now than ever. And I cannot take my eyes of his legs in that red tunic, cloak thrown over one shoulder like a cape. It makes me want to pin him against a wall this time and run my hands all over—

‘—don’t you think?’ Decimus says, turning his head to look at me.

‘Uh, yes,’ I reply reflexively, hoping he can’t tell I’ve neglected to listen. Or, at the very least, he is unaware that I have been entertaining unholy thoughts about his extremely muscular legs.

‘Good,’ Decimus nods, looking out over the fields again, ‘because … well. You know you’re my best friend, Marcey, not just my boyfriend?’

‘Yes,’ is all I can think to say, ‘and you’re my best friend too.’

‘Right,’ Decimus agrees, sounding almost relieved, ‘and I was hoping, if you felt the same way …’ he trails off, tapping his fingertips in a frantic pattern on his sword hilt.

‘Definitely,’ I say with forced brightness, hoping this isn’t about to become an extremely one-sided break-up, ‘we’re best friends! The absolute best!’

‘Good,’ Decimus says again, throwing a nervous glance my way, ‘so …’

‘So?’ I echo, picking at a loose thread on my tunic. It’s lovely. All blue and … blue.

Decimus takes a deep breath, like he’s about to dive underwater.

‘Marcey, I’m leaving—’

‘Oi! Lovebirds!’ Aurius hollers, with all the tact of an enraged bear, as he saunters from the mouth of the nearest alley. ‘Stop mooning over each other and come look at this!’

Decimus moves like he’s been struck by lightning, and I want so badly to grab him by the shoulder and demand he tell me where he’s going. Or better yet, why he’s leaving.

‘Aurius!’ he hisses, stalking over to where Aurius is leaning against the grimy alley wall. ‘Are you trying to wake the dead?’

‘Not tonight,’ Aurius laughs, and somehow it’s even louder than when he was yelling, ‘but in the meantime you two can shift your carcasses.’ He turns, flicking his blond braid over his shoulder, before he adds, ‘Secundus has the map.’

Both Decimus and I still at the words.

‘Whenever you’re ready,’ Aurius straightens his scarlet tunic, tapered past his knees in the feminine style, and beckons for us to follow him.

Decimus glances over his shoulder once, as if he’s considering going back to his post, but I seize his hand in mine before he gets the chance. I’ll just have to pretend like his words aren’t tearing me apart.

Yes. That’s much more bearable.

‘I take it you have a plan, Aurius?’ Decimus asks as we’re lead into the seedier parts of the city. Here, the streets are cast into twisted shadows, the insulae built so close, they cut off the glow of the moon with their towering mud-brick walls.

I shiver, trying to forget what happened to the last place I called home.

The paths beneath our sandals are not paved, so I have to hop on more than one occasion to avoid sharp stones concealed by the grass. And the smell, what is that smell? I mean, I know what it is, but the dark is making me doubt myself.

‘We’re meeting the others in the popina,’ Aurius replies, skipping over a puddle with enviable grace.

‘Do you know how Secundus found the map?’ Decimus demands, covering his concern at entering the wine bar with his soldier’s bluster.

‘Because my centurion told me it didn’t exist.’

‘Then he lied,’ Aurius says simply, curtseying for a couple of drunks staggering home who cheer and offer their congratulations. They must have seen him perform tonight.

We emerge into a courtyard, haphazardly paved, and littered with the remains of Aurius’ audience. Many are here for the cheap drinks, but I spy a few couples canoodling in shop stoops, making my treacherous thoughts stray to Decimus. Until I dig my nails into my palms and remember the truth.

He’s leaving me.

‘But,’ Decimus prompts, slipping out of my grasp to avoid a stumbling drunkard, ‘that doesn’t explain how Secundus found it.’

‘It’s a funny story, actually,’ Aurius smiles, ‘I’d just started my juggling when—’

‘Marcellus!’ Quintus’ voice rings out across the courtyard, emotionless as ever. He marches towards me, sword perfectly polished and scale shirt clattering like a wild horse.

I wave at my friends to keep walking, squaring my shoulders as Quintus approaches.

‘Isn’t your boyfriend supposed to be on night watch?’ Quintus wonders, tucking his helmet neatly under his arm, not a sun-bleached hair out of place.

‘I don’t know,’ I smile sweetly, knowing it will irritate him to no end, ‘isn’t that your department?’

And success! Quintus narrows his eyes. ‘I was reassigned. There are rumours of buried treasure beyond the camp and the Vigils think someone might be stupid enough to try and dig it up. I’m going to stop them.’

‘How thrilling!’ I clutch my chest in mock-surprise. ‘Let me know how it goes, won’t you?’

‘Marcey,’ Quintus says, quieter this time, ‘just … don’t do anything stupid.’

This time, I narrow my eyes. ‘I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction.’

With that, I stride into the popina.