Verus almost let out a smile at the guards treatment of him, and the way they were reprimanded by the princess. It was comical, to say the least, seeing seasoned guards treated almost as lowly as him, for their actions against him. He found it strange to think that, despite everything, when it came down to it, if he wanted the princess dead, she would be dead. As would the guards to his left and right, though he would probably be far too wounded by the end of it to relish the victory.
It was strange what they taught you, when one was educated to be a gladiator. He'd expected combat training, beating, degrading acts, things to break a mans will, forge them into a slave. Oh, there was plenty of it, but there were also conditions far greater than that of a lowly slave, as they were even beneath the gladiators. They couldn't make them the denari that made the games so profitable. There were... Other classes, as well. The ability to give a massage was taught, oddly enough, or more specifically, learned. With the vigorous training they went through, the muscles would need to be relaxed, and so they would be massaged to prevent the muscles from cramping. Usually, it was easy enough to learn how to give one from repeated experience.
After he asked his questions, his eyes followed her across the room. If she were to pay attention to his expression, Claudia would find it to be thoughtful, and curious, rather than baleful or suspicious. The first thing though, that truly made him wonder what her motives were, was the removal of the irons around his wrists, instinctively bringing a hand up to rub against his left wrist, soothing the pain that came now, as the numbness fled.
The gladiator tilted his head towards her, allowing better access to his temple as the cloth patted at it. "You did hear correctly, Claudia. My name is Verus, and I have been given to you to fight for your honor." The last part was added on in such a false tone, that it was clear he was mocking what his purpose was now. Taking the cloth, Verus slid it up his arms, wiping away the sweat and dirt from his training. "I knew that I was to be a gift, two days ago. To you though? This came as a surprise to me. One can only hear so much from the overactive mouths of guards."
Satisfied that he was as clean as a damp cloth would make him, Verus replaced it gently on the table, glancing to Claudia curiously. "I have to wonder, why you're so confident in my honor. Given the circumstances, I know that about half of the men I trained with would have you on that bed right now, trying to take one thing or another from you, consequences be damned. Even if the guards were to come in, they would try to take your life as a final act of spite against the woman who now owned him." He let out a long sigh, directing his full attention to her.
"However, I am not so foolish as to throw my life away. Not when I've been given this trust, if that is what you've given me. I find myself grateful for it, if it truly is trust." He considered the circumstances for a moment, before letting out a helpless chuckle. "You say that your goal is to free me? Perhaps I deserve my bondage. Personally, I think this is a bit much, but you don't know the crimes I suffered to be put in this position. Don't worry, however, I didn't murder anyone, nothing of that caliber. My crimes are more simple than that."
He searched around for a seat, and decided that a nearby wooden chair would do. Verus carried himself much differently than what a slave would. He had a sense of pride about him, a sense of power. Not regal power, or authority, but raw physical power. Sitting down, the muscles in his shoulders rippled underneath his shirt as his arms moved around. "Regardless, I still find myself in a curious position. Until you figure out what to do with me, exactly, I offer you this. I'll fight your battles, I'll be your champion, and I'll bring you the glory that my gifting was supposed to give. All I ask if that you treat me as a man, behind closed doors or no."