Rome: Marriage Pact

Chapter Two: Meeting Up

Despite the strong scents of roasted meat and fresh bread, I find I'm barely hungry. Antony should be here any minute now. Mother, Octavia, and I wait at the table, servants standing close by to refill our cups if needed.
A servant goes to answer the door and I try to quell my racing heart.
Bump, ba-bump, bump. I can hear it in my ears. In nervousness, I pull at a loose string from my toga.

Per mother's orders, I wear a dark blue one rimmed with gold stitching, made to bring out my already bright blue eyes and blond hair.
"What are you planning, mother?" I remember asking her as the servants were setting up the table.
"I want you to be safe, Octavius," she had said, looking over my frail body. "Antony is a highly skilled fighter and will defend you with his life."

"But, mother..." I tried to protest, only to be stopped by her raising a hand. "I have already informed Antonius. He knows why."
So now here I sit, sipping steadily from a goblet.
We hear the front door close. I listen to Antony's heavy footsteps from down the hall. Even though I'm nervous, I keep my head held high.

Antony enters, a hulking figure almost brushing against the top of the doorway. Even dressed in a simple toga of the Senate, he looks intimidating. Bump, ba-bump, bump. My heart races, almost painfully.
His skin is somewhat tanned, in contrast to my pale skin. His hair is curled and eyes are dark. I cannot read what emotion he hides behind those eyes.
I'm more surprised he had subtle facial hair. Men in Rome are considered barbaric for having facial hair.

Then again, Antony isn't exactly known to follow the rules. Our eyes meet as he walks over and he nods subtly. I find myself nodding in return despite my nerves, then I quickly look down.
He sits across from me and motions for a servant to fill his goblet with wine.

"Thank you for inviting me, Atia," his voice is deep, smooth. I find more interest staring at the roasted potatoes on my plate.
"Of course. Thank you for coming. This is my daughter, Octavia, and my son, Gaius Octavius." She motions to me with a smile.
"Octavius," he tests my name out, looking at me with his head tilted. His eyes shine with an emotion I can't quite place.

"Charmed," he says, holding his hand out. Reluctantly, I place my hand in his. His skin is calloused and warm, most likely from holding weapons all the time. I watch him bring my hand to his lips and kiss the back of it. Despite his rough appearance, the simple contact is surprisingly gentle, like he is afraid to harm me in any way.

I blink in surprise, taking my hand back once he lets me go. We eat dinner with much talking, mainly on Antony's part. Once dinner is done, I go outside on the balcony to get some fresh air, looking up at the stars.
"Gaius?" I turn to see Antony in the doorway, leaning against a pillar. "Everything all right?"
"Not exactly," I admit, the wine making me relaxed.
"My uncle is dead, the killers have fled, and now we are to be...m..mar..." I find I can't even say the word.

"Married?" Antony smiles, then laughs and walks over.
"Trust me, I'm not exactly excited either," he murmurs. "How old are you?"
"Eighteen, turning nineteen next month," I answer.
"Then that is when we will probably have the wedding," he sighs, hand going through his curly hair.

He looks down at me, Antony is a fairly tall man, I have to crane my head back just to meet his eyes. "How old are you?" I ask back. "Forty," he answers. "My wife Fulvia died last year of an illness."
"I'm sorry to hear that," I whisper.
He shrugs, somehow not that upset. "It's fine. She was prone to getting sick often." I internally flinch, that statement hitting too close to home.

"You have gorgeous blue eyes," he whispers, possibly thinking out loud, because then he looks a little shocked at what he said. "Ah, thank you," I say, tucking a curl of hair behind my ear in more of a nervous tick.
"I heard you gave a speech at my uncle's funeral. A shame I couldn't have heard it." I speak somewhat quickly.

"Aye, there were riots in the streets," he informs me, finishing the last of his wine and setting the cup down. "Whole city nearly burned down due to Caesar's funeral pyre."
"So I've been told," I respond quietly.
"Caesar's will still needs to be opened as well. Ask Atia if you can come by my villa tomorrow. I can read it out there."
Anger flaring in my chest, I respond, "I am no child, Antonius. I can simply go to your villa myself."
I'm surprised when Antony actually laughs.

"Atia never told me you were feisty! This will make the marriage a lot more interesting," he smiles, taking my hand in his and kissing the back of it again. "Meet me at my villa alone then. Your choice." With that said, he leaves, handling the alcohol a lot better than I am.