9 AD

It was the eve of the first day of the Lupercalia festival. Every notable family gathered at Palatine Hill to celebrate the purification of the city. Women draped in their best tunics chatted about the imminent ritual. All of them prayed for good health and fertility and even the men were thrilled about the spectacle. It should not only rebuke any evil spirits but keep the Germani from the Roman Empire. Hundreds of people were crowded in the arena. A big altar occupied the circular stage where two young men impatiently waited. Cold air blew over the open field and made them shiver. When would Jupiter's chief priest arrived and commence the ceremony?

In all the excitement, nobody noticed how the last arrivals joined the crowd. This was the family of the Grania. The head of this clan Publius Granius worked tediously to ultimately ascend to the prestigious social stand of the plebeians and with his profitable dealings as a merchant his family was certainly part of the ruling class of Rome now. His family consisted of his wife Calpurnia Grania; his oldest daughter, also named Calpurnia Grania, but everyone just referred to her as Cal; followed by his oldest son Publius Granius Flaccus, called Flaccus; and his younger daughter Lucretia Grania. This was one of her first outings and already they weren't making a great impression.

"I hope we're not too late." Calpurnia murmured as she picked at her tunica.

"We would have been on time if it wasn't for Cal's vanity." Flaccus teased. 

Cal gave her younger brother a small hit on the arm "If it wasn't for your-" 

She was interrupted by their father who gave both a stern look to quiet them down. Lucretia ignored her families bickering as she stood close to her father. He was usually the only person who could bring unity to this family and the only one who truly tried to understand her. She gave him a thankful nod for his understanding.

Finally, an old man ceremonially strode to the centre of the circle. Close behind him followed a goat which was lead by three girls. One carried a bowl filled with milk and the other held wool. Lucretia observed the spectacle with enthusiasm. Her fellow sisters practised devotedly at their daily worship at the temple for the last few days. 

Next year would be her turn to perform this duty as Vestal Virgin and she craved to pledge to the goddess Vesta. An eternal life of chastity. But also a life without a bothersome husband dictating her whole life. Lucretia didn't mind missing out on marital bliss. For her sister foretold her about the responsibilities as a wife. From managing the household, hosting banquets, to supervising the children's education, and...let alone the bedroom. Questionably, Cal looked forward to this troublesome life. Lucretia dreaded the day she had to subordinate to a husband and arrange her life around his. Never would she be inferior to a man. She pushed the thought away and concentrated on the action in front of her.

The procession came to a halt in front of the Lupercal alter. The goat was placed on top of it and the priest began the ritual with a pompous speech. After his last words had echoed across the theatre he directed his attention to the goat. He placed a knife, he had removed from a shed at his belt, at the throat of the goat and with a swift cut brought the animal to prompt death. Now the priest stepped before the two young men and wiped the blood on their forehead. One of the priestesses moved next to the group and held out the bowl with the milk while the maiden handed the wool to the old man. He dunked it in the liquid and cleaned off the blood with the drench fur. As it was tradition, both men were expected to laugh.

Lucretia eyed them from afar. The shorter man had to be the same age as Lucretia. Yet, his body was that of a grown man and his toga stretched across his broad chest. It was his boyish face framed by ringlets of lush curls that gave away his greenness. He hadn't experienced any hardship. 

One couldn't say the same about the other boy. His grim visage towered over the priest. Coldness reflected in his eyes and his recent hair cut which accentuate his high distinctive cheekbone didn't help conceal his vileness. Lucretia sensed indescribable anguish radiating from this man. This was the type of guy she steered clear of.

The procedure came to a quick end after tumultuous acclamation. The participants deserted the altar and people started leaving in small groups.

As it was ritual, married women made their way to the streets of the city to received their blessings from the Luperci (priests).

Lucretia expected her sister to come with her. However, her mother already grabbed Cal's hand.

"You're coming with me, young lady! Don't forget what we talked about earlier. Or do you want to end up an old spinster?" 

Lucretia gave Cal a pleading look. She didn't want to be by herself at the following festivities. 

"Don't worry, Lucretia. I will join you later. You heard mother." Cal grinned at her younger sister. 

"Isn't it bad luck? Only married women are supposed to go." Lucretia retorted. 

"You are just jealous." Cal ridiculed. 

"Jealous?" 

"Lucretia, this is your sister's duty" were her father's only words to put an end to the squabbling.

Lucretia nervousness slowly crept up on her. She always had her sister to guide her at official outings. As the older sister, Cal was entrusted with upholding the family's honour and standing. Now Lucretia was on her own. Being the youngest daughter was a blessing and a curse. Her parents didn't pester her with responsibilities as her older sister and her father secretly spoiled her. With all the freedom she had, social etiquette wasn't her strong suit and now she regretted not paying closer attention to customs. They bid their goodbyes and she watched her mother and Cal depart with the other women. At last, she followed her brother and father to their palanquin outside the arena.

After a few minutes in their palanquin, they arrived at their destination: consul Gaius Calvisius Sabinus' villa.

Pull yourself together. Nobody will pay attention to you. And Cal will be here soon, Lucretia thought to herself. She took a deep breath and exited the carrying chair. But all her previous worries were forgotten in a second. The view of the enormous front of the building blew her mind. Her family just recently began enjoying the finer things in life, but this house was no match to their residence. The entrance was adjoined by a portico (roofed pillars). Torches lit up beauteous sculptures adorning the walkway. Their shadows flickered along the mosaicked floor and the frescos on the wall as they made their way inside.

Music from inside announced the party was well underway. A servant ushered them to the main hall where a big crowd had assembled already.

The hall was decorated with garlands and a small band of musicians entertained the guests. Servants balanced plates loaded with delicious food.

Still, Lucretia was positively overwhelmed with all the tumultuousness.

Her father squeezed her shoulder "Will you excuse me, I have some business to attend to. Flaccus, keep an eye on your sister." and with that, he was gone.

Flaccus rolled his eyes and went the opposite direction "I know, you're old enough to find you way around."

Her brother found his friends and didn't pay her any more attention. Lucretia didn't mind not having her older brother dictated her movements. She strayed around and observed the people. There was a group of women who zealously spread the latest gossip; men discussing politics; an elderly man nodding off in the nearby corner, and in the middle of all, lush curls.

He stood in a little circle with men his age. Immersed in a casual conversation, he held everyone's attention. Lucretia stepped closer to get a better look. If she wasn't mistaken, that was the boy from the altar. From up close, he looked even benigner. Out of nowhere, he caught her preying gaze and she promptly averted her gaze to a different group of people.

Hopefully, he didn't notice me, she thought. She proceeded around to the other side of the hall. Her father came into her view, deep in conversation with another person. He caught a glimpse of her and briefly acknowledged her before he continued his discussion again.

Imperceptibly, she glimpsed back at the boy. She wasn't used to this kind of behaviour, although there was just something about him that aroused her curiosity.

Lush curls finished his discussion and stepped away. Initially, Lucretia expected him to exit the hall to the left but when he turned right and approached her, she froze.

"You know, it's impolite to stare at somebody without a proper introduction." he urged her.

"I--" stuttered Lucretia in her discomfort being caught.

"You seemed a little lost, so I thought I come over and make sure I'm the one you were gazing at."

His unpredictable bashful smile made her blush "I'm just pretending."

"Don't worry, you're too hideous to regard for a long time." she countered.

"So you agree I'm handsome?"

"I was just looking for my sister."

He snickered inconspicuously.

"Let me offer my service. Two pairs of eyes are surely more successful in finding your sister." He offered his arm. 

Lucretia declined politely. No need for this level of closeness. It was deemed indecent for unwed people.

They started moving along the rows of pillars.

"Where are my manners? They call me Titus Calvisianus " He cavalierly bowed.

"May I ask your name?"

"Grania. But you can call me Lucretia."

"Oh, you are Grania's daughter."

"You know my father?"

"He has been visiting my father for a while now, but I didn't know he had such a lovely daughter. He should bring you next time."

Titus' cockiness amused Lucretia. It wasn't every day a man was engaged in an inspiring chat. Usually, they ignored the presents of women and if they acknowledged them, men resorted to jabs to prove their superiority.

"So you think I'm beautiful?" she teased him.

An arm wrapped around Lucretia's shoulder and dragged her slightly back.

"And you are?" Flaccus inserted his dominance, but Titus wasn't put off.

"I am the host" Titus retorted.

"Of course Sabinus's son would make a move on a naive girl."

"What are you implying?" Titus' eyes narrowed in on Flaccus.

"Flaccus, please, this is not the time nor the place." Lucretia attempted to deescalate the situation.

"Stay away from my sister!" warned Flaccus as he surrounded Titus.

"Because we are amid guest and celebrating a sacred fest, I will ignore your fuss."

"When can also go outside and settle this." Their altercation was attracting attention and heads turned in their direction.

"Titus, please excuse my brother's behaviour. The wine must have gotten to Flaccus' head." The last sentence was more intended for Flaccus.

As fast as his anger arose, Titus' calm nature returned. "I will accept your excuse. It was nice meeting you Lucretia of the Granii"

Titus excused himself.

"I can't leave you alone for a few minutes without attracting moths" Flaccus puffed. "You stay away from this rapscallion!"

"I had the situation perfectly under control. He was just being nice because I was by myself. You're the one who left me alone."

"No back talks!" Flaccus was visibly agitated.

Lucretia rolled her eyes and withdrew from her brother's arm. Immediately she bumped into a tall back. She turned around and looked into the stern face of a middle-aged man. His unpleasant expression indicated his annoyance. 

"Pardon me" stuttered Lucretia as she already tried to get away, but she was hindered by her father.

"As I see, you have already met Gaius Calvisius Sabinus. Sabinus, you already know my son Flaccus. This is my daughter Lucretia." her father introduced her.

Sabinus examined her from head to toe with a swift glance. Unmoved he replied, "Your reputation precedes you."

He offered her his hand.

"The pleasure is all mine, Sabinus." she greeted him.

Without any consideration, he refocused on her father "Publius, next week would be fitting. I want this procedure completed as soon as possible."

"It would be an honour!"

"Glad making business with you" and without another word, he left.

There was something Lucretia felt agitated about. Fer father was always in control of the narrative, but next to Sabinus he behaved submissively. 

"This was a strange conversation, father. Is everything alright?" Lucretia noticed.

"Nothing to worry about" Publius replied.

Yet, she couldn't unsee an unfamiliar tension in her father.

....

Some hours have passed. I search for mother and Cal all over the hall, but no sign. Have they already arrived? Maybe they went home straight away. At least, I survived this function without any hiccups, except the collision with Titus and Sabinus. He made me feel so anxious, as well as my father. There is something he isn't telling me.

The packed hall is crammed with perspiring bodies and the humidity makes me nauseous. I just need to take a small break. There must be someplace for me to cool down. 

I leave the party scene and step out to the peristyle, an open courtyard. Every shrub symmetrically frames the fountain in the middle. The splatter of the spring and some crickets are the only sound in the night. Cold air hits my face and it's a nice refreshment for my heated face. By now it should be midnight, as I observe the stars above me. I stride along the rows of hedges and I rest on top of the railing of the fountain. I take off my shoes and dip my feet into the refreshing water. This calms me and I relax here for several minutes.

I think back to my conversation with Titus. Cal would definitely fancy him. A perfect husband for her. He was so charming and accommodating, but that's what you're supposed to do as a host. And there's Flaccus who always has to ruin things. I know he is looking out for me. I'm his little sister. But why does he always have to embarrass me? It's not like I'm throwing myself at Titus to ravished me. I will never marry. Next year, I will take my vows at Vesta's altar and be independent. Flaccus won't be able to tell me what to do or who to talk to.

Although I must admit, Titus made me nervous. In a good way.

Out of nowhere, loud stomps wake me from my daydream. I can't quite make out his face. The shrubs cover my view and the darkness isn't helping.

But I can perceive his furry. Somebody must have angered this man.

He moves closer to the middle of the peristyle and I unconsciously duck to hide my presence.

Now he stands in the moonlight and I can distinguish his muscular body. This is my chances to flee and avoid any encounter with an enraged bugger, but an unavoidable look on his arm gives me a peek at a gruesome scar on his upper arm.

But it's too late, a pair of uncanny recognizable cold eyes strike me.