The Mark of Rome

viii / purpose

No matter how much I spited my big brother on my wedding night, he was still my blood and I still embraced him as if nothing had transpired between us.

He was the only familiar face among the hundred and I clung to him like my life depended on it. Drusus smelled of mint and musk, and it nearly brought tears to my eyes. I never thought I'd yearn to be with this brother. He was the thorn of my childhood. The second son who never rose up to be like the first.

"Esther, thank the gods, you're alright," he sighed with relief. For once, I cherished the sight of him. I had never been away from family for so long. A month was much too long and my heart leapt with joy to see even the sibling I clashed with most. He pressed a familial kiss to the crown of my head and he held me tightly as if I would slip away.

Truthfully, Drusus had once been my closest companion. We were the closest in age and people used to call us twins the way we dashed around together. We grew apart as we got older and as stress drove us to our wit's end, but I would forever be his little sister. Blood was the only bond unbreakable.

He pulled away just to better look at me and his head grew hotter with every inch he inspected. In the shade of a great tree, I stood stalk still as he made note of the way I had deteriorated here. In the middle of a garden party, Drusus threatened to explode. His grey eyes widened as he tried to piece together the imperceptible limp in my step, the lumps of bandages beneath my clothes, and the slight swell to my eyes.

He began to roar with fury as his questioning rained down. He was a Livius after all. Drusus breathed deeply with rage, "Who dared lay a hand-"

I bade him to hush before too many heads turned curiously. The guards Marius employed to watch my every movement had doubled since the events of last night and they tensed at my brother's tone. As if he were the temper I needed to be protected against.

I smiled serenely at all who looked our way and I grasped my brother by the arm and took him for a leisurely turn about the garden.

Alba had been right about the flowers. They were lovely, blessed by the gods of the spring and the harvest. There was beauty all around this wretched place, but there was a festering wound beneath it all. It nearly made me sick to my stomach to think of it.

Drusus was hardly comforted. In a mad hiss, he fumed so that only I would hear, "Was this his doing? Does he beat you? I knew you never should have married him. He murdered Cornelius, and Marcellus' death was hardly a coincidence. He is a mad man and a savage."

As much as I had forsworn any ties to him, I still didn't let my brother run away with his imagination.

"It wasn't his doing," I remarked calmly. "His father's wife tried to have me killed, but Alexander and Octavian were quick in their rescue."

That knowledge seemed to placate my brother, but still, he held a light in his eyes that I recognized in my own. We were an ambitious family. I knew the look of someone striving when I saw it. With a sinister smirk, Drusus murmured a secret to me. "Don't worry, Es. It won't be much longer, I promise. I couldn't stop you from marrying him, but I am the eldest Livius now and this is my family to protect. Cornelius would do what I have planned. I know he would if he were here."

I liked my vengeance and I craved justice, but I knew there was no mercy in my brother's plotting. Our family grieved for many years and we each harbored our pain, holding onto it as a lifeline and motivation to never feel that same pain again.

With full knowledge of what he would say next, I still had to ask. "What would Cornelius do exactly?"

"He would depose of your captor. Spill his blood as he has spilled ours."