"As do I." He takes a few steps toward her, moving slowly, as if he doesn't trust her not to lunge at him. Though it isn't that. Some other wariness twists at him.

It occurs to him then that he must reek of that sweat and that blood.

"I fought to final breath to escape servitude into which Rome pressed me. Yet arena proved to be salvation as much as slavery." He lets out a long breath. "Here I fight for no master but myself. And yet victory is hollow."