He paid a brief visit to his office to fetch the supplies he kept for these instances, then headed to Drusilla’s bedchamber. This scene played out in one form or another every month. Drusilla became afflicted with her monthly courses, Gaius thought she was dying, and it fell to Kallias to sort them both out.
Kallias found the emperor red-faced and pacing next to Drusilla’s bed. The young woman lay on her back, propped up by pillows, with a bundle clutched to her stomach. Kallias knew it contained a wide, flat stone, heated to a comfortable temperature and wrapped in wool padding to soothe her cramps.
“Wherehave youbeen?” Gaius demanded as soon as Kallias entered the room. “My sister is practically on the banks of the Styx, and you are nowhere to be found!”
Kallias summoned the tone he often used with the emperor. His position required a careful combination of obsequiousness and confidence. It was a delicate balance to walk; he could hardly reprimand someone like Gaius as he had Penthesilea after she’d disregarded his directive to rest.
“I briefly left the palace to tend to the injured gladiator from yesterday. As you commanded.” Kallias did not mention the unauthorized patient he’d taken on.
“You shouldn’t have left for so long,” the emperor insisted. “We have need of you.”
“Sir, we spoke of this last month,” Kallias said gently.And the month before that, and before that…“Drusilla’s affliction is temporary, and quite normal. I can prepare something to ease the pain, but the worst will pass in a day or two.”
“This time isworse,” Gaius insisted. “Look at her. Look how pale she is!”
Drusilla surveyed her brother wearily. “If I look worse, it’s only because your yelling is giving me a headache.”
“A headache?” To his credit, Gaius did lower his voice to a tense whisper. “Surely that can’t be good. What if that portends something—a, a brain fever, or—”
“Blessed Juno,” Drusilla muttered. “Gaius, get out and let Kallias tend to me.” She was the only person who dared speak to the emperor in such a tone.
Gaius shot her a chagrined glare, then turned his attention to Kallias. “I want a full report on her condition every hour,” he announced. “You must not leave her side until she’s fully recovered!”
Kallias bowed his head. “Of course, sir. Julia Drusilla will have my full attention for as long as she requires it.” This was why Kallias struggled to find the time to care for others in the palace who needed it; he spent altogether too much time in unnecessary attendance on one or the other of the imperial siblings. He sympathized with Drusilla’s plight, but there were many womenin this very building who did not have the luxury of lying abed whenever their courses struck.
The emperor gave his sister one last anxious glance, then slunk from the room.
Drusilla exhaled once her brother was gone. “He is so tiresome.”
“He cares for you very much.” Too much, in Kallias’s opinion; Gaius’s attachment to his sister bordered on obsessive. But Kallias understood where it came from. Those stressful years together as Tiberius’s hostages had forged a strong bond between the siblings, and after losing his mother and brothers to the old emperor’s paranoia, Gaius now clung to Drusilla.
His two other sisters did not merit the same attention, likely because they’d both been married for years and lived elsewhere. Drusilla herself had been briefly married to one of Tiberius’s allies, but one of Gaius’s first acts as emperor had been to dissolve that marriage, and her former husband had quickly departed for a long tour of the provinces.
A wise decision, Kallias thought.
Kallias beckoned to a maid hovering by the door, and asked for a pitcher of hot water. He then returned to Drusilla’s bedside and began mixing the herbs for the infusion to ease her pain.
“You said you visited the gladiator?” Drusilla asked as he measured out a quantity of dried chamomile leaves into a terracotta cup. “Penthesilea?”
Kallias nodded. “Her wound is healing satisfactorily.”
“Oh, good.” Drusilla adjusted the position of the hot stone on her stomach. “Imagine how interesting it must be to be a female gladiator!”
Kallias wasn’t sure “interesting” was the word for being enslaved and forced to fight, but he nodded politely. He liked Drusilla; she was intelligent, genial, and displayed a rare talent for managing her brother’s moods, but that didn’t change the fact that she was one of the most privileged people in the empire and had little concept of the struggles that ordinary people faced.
“And she lives with all those men…” A sly smile curved Drusilla’s lips. “Do you think she takes lovers?”
Kallias nearly dropped the flask of poppy juice he was holding, as he spooned out one tiny drop to add to the chamomile. “I—I have no idea.” For some reason, he didn’t like to contemplate the idea of Penthesilea consorting with her gladiator colleagues.
Though there had been that one good-looking gladiator who’d been concerned about her after her injury. They’d seemed friendly. If she were going to sleep with anyone, it would probably be him.
“You’re frowning,” Drusilla said. “Is something wrong?”
Kallias hastily wiped his features clear of the scowl that had tightened them and summoned a bland expression. “Forgive me. I was merely concentrating on the measurements.”
The hot water arrived, so Kallias busied himself adding the herbs to it, stirring with more focus than he’d ever expended before on such a simple task. He tried to examine each leaf to make sure it was steeping evenly. Anything to distract himself from thinking about Penthesilea’s intimate affairs. Why did the thought of her with that other gladiator make his insides feel as if they’d sprouted thorns?
It was perfectly reasonable that she might have struck up a relationship with one of the men she lived with. And it was of no consequence to him.
