Given away.
And not just me, Lucius too.
Like we are worthless.
But we’re not worthless, not to our Domina. Her anger had filled the household when the decision had been announced. And Dominus Tiberius had simply laughed, mocking her infatuation and dismissing her until she remembered her station.
He had turned to us and declared us the perfect pair to ensure the happiness of the couple to which we will serve. That his wife’s teachings will have ensured that. We didn’t need to ponder his meaning, it was clear enough.
Humiliation burned within my gut, mixing with the anger and the fear. We had ears, we knew of the man to which we were being gifted. The man who owned the villa in which we stood, our eyes fixed on the mosaic floor of the atrium as we waited on his arrival. While around us people whispered and remarked, some more obvious than others, but none of which I cared to listen to.
Centurio Gaius. Our new Dominus. A legend among the ranks. Stories of his courage, his ferocity in battle, his kill count, all spread far and wide. He sounded more beast than human. And now I am to serve him.
Terror claws its way under my skin, the hairs stand at the back of my neck. I think on Tiberius’ words and the acts I will need to fulfil. I can’t even begin to think on how warped his tastes may be, of what he might expect of both me and Lucius. I know I am no longer safe from the pain of motherhood, of that I am certain, and my hand moves instinctively over my belly as I take a strangled breath.
Lucius spies the move, his head bowing to whisper, ‘I am here.’
Yes, he is here. And his presence is a comfort. He is my constant, my rock, at least I still have him.
There is a sound from what I imagine to be the courtyard and Legatus Tiberius appears with a man so tall and so broad he instils fear on sight. My knees knock and I force myself to straighten, my lashes lowering as I trace the pattern at my feet.
‘Now see here, the perfect pair,’ Tiberius declares loudly. ‘My perfect gift to you––Lucia and Lucius.’ He chuckles deeply with his introduction. ‘My wife named them, but of course, you can rename them how you wish. You have to admit it works though, look at them, a finer pair you never did see, and the things they can do, my wife has told me plenty a tale.’
The other man coughs strangely and I sneak a look. His eyes shock me still. They are not angry, they don’t blaze with a hunger or any other manner of fierce urges. They look soft, thoughtful. They are beautiful. My breath catches and I send my eyes to the floor anew, my head swamped with the crazy revelation. It cannot be. He cannot be. My fear has gone to my head and sent me into some fantastical world where heroic Gods really do walk the earth.
‘Why don’t you present them to Aurelia now? I would very much like the pleasure of meeting the woman that stole the heart of my most fierce centurion.’
Tiberius’ words wash over me, feeding the fantastical notion in my head. Did this man truly know love? And if he did, surely he could be gentle, kind even…
‘Aurelia is resting, my news does not sit well with her.’
His voice is husky, it rasps down my spine and I want to look at him again, the need pulling at my lashes, but I know my place.
‘Well, no, I can imagine it hasn’t.’ Tiberius coughs awkwardly. ‘When you return from the north then? A party we shall have, I will meet her then.’
‘Yes, Legatus, of that I’m sure she will agree.’
‘And what say you to my gift?’
I feel his eyes burning into me, and my pulse ticks wildly in my neck. I clench my hands tighter over my front and focus on my breath.
‘I appreciate the thought and hope, like you say, that they bring Aurelia comfort in my absence.’
My ears prick up, my pulse skips over––Absence? A comfort t
o his wife?
‘Oh, of that I am sure.’ Tiberius is all arrogance. ‘Why don’t we have them demonstrate just how comforting they can be, come Lucia, Lu—’
My new Dominus flicks his wrist forcibly, cutting him off with a, ‘No.’
‘Come now, Gaius, a demonstration of their worth would be fun, would it not?’
I can hear the threatening undertone and I look to them both beneath my lashes. There is a battle of wills underway, these two powerhouses at odds, and my breath baits as I stress over who will win out.
And then there is movement behind them, a flutter of white silk and golden hair. ‘My dear husband, you should have told me we have guests.’
Her delicate voice, her accent, it teases me. She sounds like me, if I were educated that is. The revelation stirs a strange sentiment within. And then she steps between the men and comes into view and I forget my place, forget that I shouldn’t stare. Her beauty captivates me, holding my eye. She smiles straight at me, kind and sweet, like a golden goddess doting on those who look upon her.