The Long Task

a.d. v Kal. Mart. X A.C. (February 25, 10 B.C.)

Dawn

As I rose from my heavy slumber, I was aware of the coolness of the air and its enticing aroma. I began to wonder if I was still dreaming as I stirred, taking in the shafts of light that burst through the gap in the window. This wasn't my room. The room contained beautiful murals, hand-painted by someone who knew what they were doing. The scene was of a tight-rope walker walking on a rope of flames.

"The first celebration is always the hardest. Don't worry. You'll get used to them."

I turned to the voice, and there was Prince Claudius. A smile tugged the corner of his mouth, so genuinely sweet with just the right amount of shyness that unexpected warmth rushed through me. Ew, no! I don't get feelings... Who am I?

"I'm already used to passing out. I didn't even get to have any wine first- how disappointing."

He smirked- just a tiny pouting of the lips; a narrowing of the eyes and a tilt of the head and his shoulders were shaking in silent laughter. Ugh, not again!

After he left, I kept repeating 'Boys are gross' like a mantra to myself.

Midday

A maid came to escort me to lunch. What happened to breakfast? Reluctantly, I slid out of bed lazily. The maid grabbed me in one deft movement, and I already missed the comforting sheets of the bed. The routine began; red ochre, dabbing of the lips, the murder of my hair- the tongs being guilty, of course. But then I saw the dress. The creamy sheets of silk slipped onto my shoulders, peppering my body with soft, sensual kisses. It seduced the senses and conveyed with utmost skill the art of pleasing. I walked as lightly as a tight-rope walker. A puff of wind swept through my hair as I slipped out of the safety of my room.

The palace triclinium was exceptional, and the food was even more splendid, for lunch anyway. There was a variety of bread with cheese, dates, and honey, fish with garum (my personal favourite) along with flamingo tongue and some fresh fruit. I took my seat, and immediately the Emperor rose from his.

"Wedding arrangements are to be made once we are finished. The prince and his lady will be escorted to their dress fittings. The wedding will be in one week."

There was no point in feigning surprise. Too much has happened already. I turned back to my plate and began to masticate on a new mouthful. What a waste otherwise. I turned to the prince, and we exchanged cyclopean grins. I could get used to this.

Dusk

I was done with my dress fitting- oh, thank you, Juno! The shoes were the worst- dispiteous contraptions constructed to internecine my feet, which now looked immedicable. My feet were under a panoply of blisters and sores. Nothing the comfort of abirritant oil couldn't fix. As I reclined on the bed, I heard a knock on the door. As it opened, I was greeted by the amenity of familiar luscious locks. He glanced at my feet and sighed.

"First dress fittings are always the worst."

Of course, being me, instead of batting my lashes and smiling in a coquettish way, I snorted. Instead of the encounter ending abruptly, he took a seat, and we talked and fleered until the sun met the horizon.