“Thank you, Caesar.” I saluted with a fist to my chest, turned, and marched away.
His sinister laughter followed me as I marched through his palace toward the exit. I moved faster when I reached the cobblestone drive and wound back down the hill, nausea burning through my gut. Once well out of sight, I ran to the edge of the road and vomited into a bush. My hands trembled as I wiped Adolfo’s blood on the skirt of my tunic and hurried home.
XILELA
I listened intently at the door, and hearing no one in the corridor, stepped quickly into the study next to Trajan’s bedchamber. Closing the door in case Alba happened to come to his bedchamber and pass by, I studied the small room.
There was a well-worn blue chaise with a pillow and crumpled blanket draping across it—Trajan’s bed. The wall was lined with scrolls and bound books as expected. I ambled closer to the desk, clean of anyparchment or books. I trailed a finger over an ornament shaped like a bronze dragon head, tipping it back to find that it was a decorative inkwell.
Walking behind the desk, I sat in his chair. There were no business or political papers strewn about, everything must be neatly tucked away. I opened a drawer on the right, finding several rolled scrolls. Lifting one, I opened it to find some accounting with a creditor for household goods. I placed it back and opened another—a banking statement.
I opened the drawer on the left and found a few pens and loose, blank parchment, three coins of denarii, and a hair comb. Sighing, I closed the drawer and wondered about this man. He was a man of secrets, I was certain.
“Where do you keep your secrets?” I whispered.
Perhaps where I did.
My pulse quickened. I opened the drawer filled with bookkeeping scrolls and felt toward the back for a false front. I knocked, but found the solid back of the drawer. Opening the other, I did the same, knowing instantly this drawer wasn’t as deep and my knock echoed more hollow.
“There you are.”
I poked and prodded until I found the latch that popped open. I quickly pulled folded letters from within and opened the first with a feminine scrawl on the front.
Thankfully, I could read Latin. The letter was certainly from a woman:It’s so rainy this summer, Marilla and I can hardly stand it. The summer was milder than I thought it would be. But we dearly miss the sea. Oh, how we enjoyed our villa in Ravenna, swimming in the deep blue waters in perfect privacy.
Thank you for your letter. We miss you as well. Marilla loves the woolshawl you sent. She promises not to play in the rain. She reminds you that she’s a young woman now, not a child. But I will watch her for you, brother. Do not worry.
I appreciate the velvet cloak you sent me. You’re right. It does keep me warm in these northern climes. You’re always thinking of us, and we of you. I cannot wait until we can be together again as a family.
I hope you’re keeping yourself out of trouble. Stay safe on your campaigns. We listen for news from Rome about your legion, always keeping you in our prayers. Marilla and I pay tribute at both the temples of Minerva and Mars to ensure your safety. Send our love to Grandfather. Be safe, brother.
“Brother?” I looked around, feeling guilty at invading his privacy. But it was so unexpected, I had to open another.
Each one spoke of their daily affairs, their welfare, and how they longed to see him, hoping he was well. When I opened the last one, a dried blue flower wrapped in thin muslin fell onto the desk. I set it aside gently. This letter congratulated Trajan on becoming tribune of the senate.
But what is this business of Julian betraying Caesar and flying away with a woman on his back after burning half the city? This can’t be true. Marilla thinks it’s quite romantic, silly girl. I simply cannot believe it. Calm, levelheaded Julian? Your dearest friend? Please tell me what has truly happened. Marilla sends all of her love and this blue lily she found growing along our riverbank. It reminded her of home, and you. She knows how you love them so. All our love, Junia
I couldn’t account for why it was so shocking that Trajan was a devoted brother with two apparently lovely sisters writing to him regularly. But why was he hiding their letters?
I reached into the hidden compartment and pulled out a book. Another strange thing to hide. Then I found a few more folded piecesof parchment. When I pulled them out, I saw a broken red seal depicting a dragon flying upward. I recognized it as the House of Ignis sigil, the emperor’s.
A shiver crawled down my spine when I opened it, turning instantly to the signature. It was from his former general and according to his sisters, his dearest friend, Julian.
The letter asked questions about Romans I didn’t know, whether they had broken from the cause because he left Rome.
“What cause?” I muttered aloud before going back to reading.
It also spoke of domestic things that I found humorously peculiar:How does one till soil? I am completely out of my depth. I had never thought this to be an occupation I would have to learn. And yet, I find it comforting. I’m no longer killing in the field, but rather trying to make things grow. I know you will laugh, but I am enjoying this life as a simple farmer.
Thank the gods for my wife. She is patient and the comfort I need, especially now that I am so anxious about what is happening in Rome. You should get yourself a wife, Trajan. I highly recommend it.
The letter closed shortly after that. I found two more, both of similar topics, speaking of someone else named Stefanos and a dog, that he enjoyed his new home. Other people were mentioned, saying all were well. He also thanked him for the information Trajan had sent, but didn’t specify what that was.
I refolded and tucked them all away, realizing I’d been snooping for far too long. He could be home any minute. I had no idea what he did all day or if his habits brought him back home early. It wouldn’t look good for him to find me digging in his desk drawer. That was no way to gain trust.
Once everything was set back into place, I returned quietly to his bedchamber and into the bath area. I tucked myself behind the changing screen on the far wall. This seemed to be the best hiding place during the day.
Back here, his sunken bath lay unused, the water clear but cold. I’d used a rag to wet and clean myself after I knew Trajan had left for the day.
