How long can this slave take to accomplish a task? She is lucky that only women are allowed to enter the Atrium Vestae. Otherwise, I would have drag her out by the hair if need be. She forced me to miss the senate hearing about the regiment and father won't be happy about my absence.

Another punishment. I will survive it. Hopefully.

A vendor at a poorly erected booth chews my ear off for unreasonably long. He observed my tireless stalk and thought I would suffice for his next swindle. While I was sitting to rest, he approached me and palavered without any countenance. Stories about his exploit as a pirate. Tales of foreign kingdoms and unclaimed virgins. All I have to do is...

I don't pay any attention to his fabricated tales. Abruptly, he suspects me of stealing his useless rummage. Therefore, I enlighten him on his grave mistake if he continues bothering me. He finally retreats and observes me with wary eyes.

This whole waiting would not have been as bothersome if my brother hadn't decided to desert me. He doesn't approve my reasoning. I'm too hotheaded and let trivial nuisances guide my judgement.

Like him, I should abandon unnecessary grudges, but she can't get away unscathed. I can't allow a lowborn slave to question my authority. If anybody can do as they like, and nobody remembers their place, chaos will ensue. Of all the people, my brother should know what father expects of us; what the world expects of me.

My troubling thoughts occupy my mind, and I nearly miss a glimpse of red ribbons. Instantly, I know, it's her.

She is less than ten meters away from me, but she is too distracted to acknowledge me; not deign to look at me.

Her swift stride through the surge of people makes it hard to keep her in view. Loose strands of hair sticking to her smutty face indicated her plodding day. Her garments stained in the same fashion, can't conceal her ample figure. I wonder what she hides under the layer of clothes. Her short height dwarfs her voluptuous statue and if it weren't for her relatively lathy legs, one might think she is adequate. As she passes by, I catch a better sight of her attire. The finest fabrics wrap her body, instead of plain old wool. I am surprised how poorly a girl of her station is treating such a privilege. Yet, without a doubt in herself, she navigates through the crowd. Her head held high people shift out of her path as if a certain aura around her demands authority. Her whole appearance contradicts her being. How can someone remarkably oblivious stride around like she owns the place?

Before I miss her, I rise and follow her direction.

People on their way home have clogged the road, strolling without any care in the world. The confusion of the street hinders me tracking the girl. I attempt to manoeuvre through the crowd, but it appears harder than I expect. The flow of people obstructs my attempts to accelerate as I step on the foot of an elderly lady. She gives me a dirty look and starts to scold me. If I was not already in pursuit of my vexation, I would tell the lady off. I am not inclined to raise any suspicion and attract the slave's attention. Her distance from me increases enough. Therefore, I must bridge the distance between us before I lose her.

Suddenly, she takes a sharp turn behind a booth at the crossroad ahead. A small gap between a group of arguing scholars opens up and I dart passed the booth.

She is gone.

But she was just here!

I almost had her. I can't lose her. Not now!

This divine dispensation is not for nought. Otherwise, the girl wouldn't have appeared right in front of my nose the following day. This chance won't present itself twice.

She couldn't have walked far. There is only one road.

I should have apprehended her as soon as I saw her, but instead, I was dazed.

How could I let her escape? This is my fault.

The underlying tension I suppressed seethes in my blood and I'm on the brink of surrendering to my impulse.

But like a saving grace, I spot those damned red ribbons. They wave in the wind as if they are calling me.

My composure reverts to my usual clarity.

She is the furthest away she has ever been. If I don't go for her now, I will never have the chance to confront her. Without any consideration for the people around me or my possible detection, I sprint after her. And this time I'm not obstructed by any nagging old woman.

Fortunately, the girl slows down as I finally catch up to her. Only a few meters separate us. And if the gods come to my rescue, a fitting situation unfolds.

Got you!

I grab her and pull her to a narrow alley to my right. Before she can understand my intention, I cover her mouth. No reason for a scene for nosy bystanders. I need to savour every last minute of what is to happen and don't want any interruption.

At first, she is startled by my action as her eyes widen but as she remembers me, her face grimaces into pure terror. There's no running away now, little lamb.

Nevertheless, she tries to fight me off. Her arms fidget for a grip to push me off, but what can she do against someone like me. Her resilience amuses me. Her squirming against me enhances my urge to discipline her.

"I told you, you will pay for your disobedience, slave!" to visualise the seriousness of my threat I push her hard against the wall. Her tiny body barely tolerates the impact as she sags into her knees. Rattled, she props herself against the wall and straightens herself up. And even though she should be intimidated by her precarious situation, she is hardly impressed by me.

"This is a misunderstanding. I'm not the one you are looking for." her pleading goes unheeded.

"What happened yesterday was a mistake. I never meant to act out of line and push you. Please, just let me go. I won't tell a soul about this."

I position my arms beside her and cage her between the wall and me.

"Get away from me, you...!"

I lean in and flash my teeth, "You what? How dare you defy your master! At first, you laze around places you have no permission to. Then you taunt me and shove me in the fountain. And finally, you dishonour me by escaping your punishment!"

By the time I finish, my face almost touches hers.

Still, I am met with a resilient stare. Her eyes defiantly blaze up. She won't give in.

What are you thinking? Why aren't you scared of me? Why are you so fierce?

Confidently her ravaging glance pushes her way into my mind. I haven't allowed anyone to get this close to me. I couldn't bear for anyone to see the ugly struggle behind my facade.

Nobody but Adele...

However, the slave in front of me is on the brink of noticing my weakness.

This doesn't make any sense.

Therefore, my preying gaze challenges her to capitulate. The same way she can detect my biggest secrets I can explore her deepest desires.

Suddenly, a dark veil darkens her face. It's like she erected an imaginary wall.

"Enough with these charades. You had your fun. Now, let me be." she mutters.

Her exclamation shouldn't be surprising me at this point, "I guess you have to learn it the hard way."

To make sure, she knows I am resolute, I yank down her palla (shawl). A hair-raising tear rings in my ear and a shrug of cloth spirals to the ground. A scent of fire mixed with an ineffable smell of lavender hits my nose and addles my wit. How can a being like her smell so tempting?

My gaze still fixated on her frightened expression wanders down to her exposed bosom. Erratically, it lifts and lowers. Her breathing is elevated. I can feel her body stiffen; preparing to escape an inevitable outcome.

In disgust, she turns her head away from me.

This is no surprise. Everyone folds under me.

I lean in to whisper to her ear, "I can do anything I want with you."

A cold shiver runs down her spine. She must be expecting the worst from me.

"Now listen carefully, slave. This is what is about to happen--", but my order is interrupted as a sharp pain shoots through my left arm.

She struck me.

Reflexively, I reach for my arm and avert my compromised position. As I peak to my left, a gruesome sight catches me off guard. A steady growing trickle of blood pools down my arm and I lose all sense of direction.

Not here! No now!

Clashes of swords followed by gut-wrenching screams ring through my ear. The smell of iron suffocates my nose.

A battleground in front of me. Corpses everywhere. And this ever-growing ache in my arm!

I gasp for air but only puffs reach my lung.

No air.

Can't breathe.

All I see, dead bodies.

I can't outrun them.

They follow me.

Haunting my every step.

Penance for my mistake.

All I see, darkness.

Adele.

Her throat. Choking gurgles escape her mouth. Piercing nails dig deep into my flesh. Hot and cold runs down my hand.

Still, Adele's mocking grimace.

I have to squeeze harder.

I have to stop her.

I have to stop him.

Stop him.

Stop.

STOP!

STOP!

"Gaius!"

The vibrating uproar of my brother's voice pulls me back.

Adele is gone.

The blood on my arm is gone.

Instead, the face of the slave girl has taken an unnatural colour. Her bloodshot eyes roll into the back of her head with my pulsing hand wrap around her throat.

"What are you doing with Lucretia?" I barely perceive Titus ripping me off her. Unconscious, she collapses to the ground, but my brother comes to her aid.

"You know this lupa (bitch)?" I grunt.

"She is Publius' daughter." he denounces me.

This girl is no slave, but the offspring of a puny pleb. Assaulting a slave is one thing, but the child of a wealthy commoner with enormous influence another.

"Merda (shit)! What were you thinking?" he shakes her gently, "You were looking for her?"

I didn't overstep, regardless of her being someone's daughter. She will be fine.

"Lucretia! Wake up!" his shaking has grown more perturbing as if it could erase my involvement in her possible demise. She doesn't respond and every second that passes the chance of her only being unconscious shrinks.

"Gaius! Say something!" Titus' exasperated state irritates me.

His unusual nervousness poisons my demeanour and I can't help but question, "What should we do with her?"