The Mark of Rome

xix / the making of a god

Marius came to me in the early morning, finding the courage and the time to confront me after a whole day of silence on both our ends.

He didn't announce himself, like he was accustomed to doing...or not doing. I was in our shared space, resting my feet up on a divan while I reclined. My back ached more now with the extra weight and I sat back, my head tilting up to face the ceiling while my hands were perched on my belly.

I had my eyes closed and I breathed evenly, but I knew it was him without needing to ask.

I opened my eyes languidly, moving only my head as I acknowledged the other presence in the room.

His expression was guarded at best. His brows were slightly furrowed and his mouth was down turned in its usual scowl. A shallow cut grazed his brow, already knitting together with dried blood. A green eye flicked to me in a stormy gaze, the other was swollen shut and settling into a roiling shade of blue.

I didn't know what he was thinking or what he had to say for himself, but I knew how I would act.

I watched him sternly, watching him glide about the room as if he and I weren't at odds in the current moment. His arrogant, greedy fingers grasped at the few little trinkets here and there that we filled this space with. There was no air of meek supplication or apology.

Marius strode in strategically.

"You disturbed my sleep," I lied. I wanted to pry an apology from him somehow.

"You weren't sleeping," he said strongly. "I know what you look like when you're asleep. I know what you sound like, too. You snore. You weren't doing any of that."

"If you know me so well, why do you still insist upon being everything you know I despise?"

He chuckled darkly, "Why then do you insist on making me your villain?"

"Asks the man who tried to sell my sister," I posed. My head tilted with sarcastic question.

He smiled wordlessly, nodding in remembrance that we were equal in our ability to piss one another off. It might have been the baby, but just looking at him now made my blood boil with irritation.

Marius toyed with a denarius sitting upon one of the far tables. He ran the silver coin under his fingers, absentmindedly working through his next words. "I just spoke with Cassia..."

"Glad to hear it's only me you've been avoiding all day. As your wife, it really is reassuring," I remarked tauntingly.

He didn't bite and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed that I might not get the fight I wanted.

"I spoke with her to tell her why I even suggested it, knowing you would react like this."

"Am I not reacting sanely?" I stood up. My voice and volume climbed higher and higher, and it narrowly occurred to me that I might not look the sanest in the room at the moment. I didn't care. "Marius, you knew! You knew I would be upset with what you proposed and yet you did it anyhow. How was I supposed to react?"

"Esther, please sit down. The last thing we need is for you to hurt yourself," Marius commanded gently. He looked exasperated with me, which was all the more annoying. "Let me explain."

But I listened, begrudgingly. I was curious what he had to say. I sat back with a glare, knowing my knees needed the rest.

With a disturbing calm, Marius dropped his voice to a mere whisper, "Julius is trying to off me, in the hopes that he'll be instated as the son of his father. He has taken it upon himself to suggest Cassia as his bride and I wasn't outwardly opposed to it, but for the life of me, I would not see it through."