Athens, Greece
The preparations for the arrival of King Octavius' fleet were well underway by sun-up. Cassia awoke to find the buttery golden rays of light splayed across the walls of her bedchamber and a cacophony of sound wafting in through her open window.
The commoners of Athens would all be abustle to welcome home their brave soldiers. The streets of the market place would be crowded to the brim today and though she'd only just fluttered open her eyes to morning, Cassia could already sense the excitement in the air.
And, her looming doom as well.
There was a stone in the pit of her throat as she raised her voice and called for Helena. The small, delicate serving girl rushed into the room, dressed in a plain colored garb of muslin cloth. Her hair was in an intricate braid and well oiled. The scent of powdered roses emitted from her like the perfume of spring.
Even the servants were excited. There was a glint in Helena's eye which Cassia had never seen before.
After commanding the girl to run her bath, Cassia allowed herself a moment to breathe. She knew what her father expected of her. Royals in Greece--especially women--did not have the privilege to such trifle matters as love or the freedom to make their own choices. The kingdom always came first. Perhaps if Cassia had had an elder sister, she may have been able to put off fate for a little while longer. But as the only daughter of an aging king whose prospects were not grand to start with, she had little say in the matter.
The bath was scalding hot that morning and scented of orange blossoms. Breakfast was heralded in on a platter, a tray of bread dipped in a bowl of sour wine, some figs, and a round bowl of purple olives. Cassia ate her breakfast in a daze, before stepping from the bath and allowing Helena and Sabina to garb her. The gown was a present from her father, as the golden trinkets had been the night before, as Alexio was to be come even-fall.
The castle was in such chaos with preparations for the feast that the servants barely had time to pause and give her proper curtsey as she made her way outside. Butchers were hauling in freshly killed produce; lamb, wild boar, elk, and the smell of freshly rising dough loaves followed Cassia as she made her way outside, breathing in the scent of salt water tides and basking in the warm glow of the sun.
She found Ajax where she knew he would be; lying in the sandy training yard, sharpening his sword with a wet stone.
Ajax had been her father's slave for as long as Cassia could remember. She'd grown to think of him as a friend, possibly her only friend in the world. Ajax was strongly built, middle aged, and had a fierce face but a kind heart. Seeing him instantly lifted her spirits.
"I was hoping you would be alone," She said, plopping down beside him in a very un-princess-like manner. Ajax lifted his gaze, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand.
"You are evading your father," It was not a question. Ajax knew her almost better than anyone else. He knew she hated being treated like cattle, being raised for the slaughter. Cassia sighed, watching a bird of prey fly off over head, stretching its wings over the high peaks before swooping low, talons skimming the surface of the sea.
"I am," She said, "If he wishes to see me he can come for me himself." Ajax chuckled.
"A king rarely exerts himself with matters which he can pass unto others," He noted. Cassia turned her head sharply to the side.
"Not even for his own daughter?" Their eyes met--Cassia's lively blues and Ajax's somber greys--and for a moment neither of them spoke. Ajax turned away, focusing his gaze down on the smooth blade in his palm and the oiled whetstone. Cassia sighed.
