The Mark of Rome

iv / redemption

The candlelight in the hallways cast ominous shadows that danced across the floors. I watched as three more were added to their ranks. I was flanked by Alex and Octavian, who chattered in their way. Tonight, I was in no mood to join their mindless banter.

I had excused myself from the merriment and took my leave for the night, knowing the wedding party would celebrate well into the dawn regardless whether the bride or the bridegroom were present.

In my mind's eye, I could still see Esther take her leave without any word or farewell. For the common street peddler she used to be, I had to admit she knew how put on every air that she was beneath no one.

I could see the challenge in Faustina's eye as she watched the lady of the house leave without greeting. Esther was unbothered and frankly, impressively indifferent.

I remember shaking in my boots when I had first come across Marcus' predecessor. My little wife was commendably more impassive.

I was halfway to my private quarters when I heard Esther's name escape from the tip of Vian's tongue. The little tidbit of information he conveyed sent a chill up my spine and I stopped dead in my tracks. "While we're on the subject, would you care to explain why Esther's guards were relieved of their stations, Marius? My men saw your seal on the orders and their replacements, and I had no explanation to give them when they approached me earlier..."

I could feel the air shift and escape my lungs. I was sure I couldn't have heard him right. I skewed my brows and frowned, knowing my hesitation was all we needed to confirm my worst suspicions. I could see the realization light up in Alex's eyes just as I felt my feet start forward and break into a run.

I could feel my heart beat in my chest and the hair stand straight up all along my arms.

Fundania.

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I excused my ladies without much ceremony. I was bathed and dressed in a light sleeping gown. Decima with her deft weaver's hands combed my hair until I felt myself tipping right on the verge of sleep. 

The quiet and the solitude felt like the smallest shred of freedom. The soft breeze caressed me and I could stare up at the moon from the doorway that lead to the gardens. It was a peaceful, cloudless night and I thought suddenly of my mother.

I wondered if she might be looking down upon me and whether she might be proud or horrified that I had sold myself to put food on the table.

I imagined the gentle curves of her face. I will always be with you.

I thought of my sisters. My Cassia and Celine. I had written them already and I was just waiting to hear back. I closed my eyes and tried to conjure up their faces in my mind. I was glad to know I still could.

They were heavenly little beings. They were much prettier than I would ever be and I could see every bit of our mother in them. I was glad she lived on in some of her children, if not in me.

I rested on those thoughts. I closed the door and drew the thin curtains that filtered moonlight into the room.

I felt so thoroughly exhausted. In just a few days, I felt as if I had wagered many battles and faced countless enemies. I was so tired of fighting and keeping up personas, but I could do it forever. I knew I could.

For the sake of family, I would fight a hundred battles. It was my thread of hope in the darkness.

My feet were bare against the cold stone and I walked on tip-toe as I pulled back the heavy linen sheets covering the bed frame.