𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄 | 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

🌹 The General's Daughter

Author's Note: From the same notebook as "Hollowtree" so again, date is probably 2007/2008. A lot of heavy editing and details/changes were required on this one because of my accidental historical inconsistencies (which I HATE btw). Since the English (and most well known) spelling is "Mark Antony" and the literal translation is "Marcus Antonius", I decided to choose a middle-of-the-road translation and used "Marc" instead. Also, I tried to differentiate best I could with the names since he had two daughters named Antonia and a wife named Octavia who had an older sister also called Octavia. So...that's too confusing. Why didn't they just choose different names? My mind just went to that joke on Suite Life of Zack & Cody how Arwin's family could only afford one name but I digress XD Regardless, I'm happy with the way this revised version turned out. I hope y'all enjoy it, too <3

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This story is not the tale you may expect. It's not about the great Cleopatra and how she ruled the ancient world, not even of how she fell in love with two of the most powerful leaders of her time. No, this is a story about a small girl, only four years of age. A girl who suffered much when she was too young including abandonment by her father. She was someone who witnessed it all from the sidelines. And so this story is about Antonia Minor, the daughter of Marc Antony...

The sun blazed on every visible inch of the ivory stone road that wound its way through market stalls, leading to the very heart of the thriving city of Rome. The stones were scalding hot to the bare feet of the small child who walked with her mother, hand-in-hand. Yet it seemed not to phase her as she smiled at the sellers in their stalls, wide-eyed fascination evident in her face at every ware her eyes lit on.

Going to market had always been her favorite day, a day to view all of the foreign imports coming in and out of the city. And to a four-year-old girl, there was nothing in the world like it. Suddenly, a pair of large hands seized the girl from behind. A sharp intake of breath passed her lips before she was lifted up and twirled around. A laugh escaped the child's mouth as her father pressed kisses into her hair, the same deep shade as his own.

"Papà!" the girl squealed happily, hugging him tight.

The child's mother snapped her head around, eyes alighting on the figure of her husband.

Sweeping over to him to join in the embrace, she laid her head on his chest as she breathed out, "Marc...you're home."

Marc Antony pressed a kiss to his wife's forehead, holding her tighter, "My darling, my Octavia... It's been so long since I saw you both last...it's good to be home."

A troubled expression crossed Octavia's face at this statement which she knew to be wholly untrue. The truth of the matter was that ever since the man Marc had served under had been brutally murdered - the great general and statesman, Julius Caesar - Marc had seldom been in Rome. No, instead, he had found his joy in the far-off country of Egypt in the arms of an exotic royal - just as his predecessor had. Cleopatra VII was said to be a great beauty, a woman of quick wit and unrivaled intelligence. But the most prominent rumors swirling was that she was a seductress, capable of making any man do her bidding. In fact, it was said that Marc already had three children by her.

Despite the common practice of Roman nobility to take several wives - Octavia herself having been the fourth wife - nevertheless it hurt her deeply to have been abandoned in this way by her husband. And truthfully, Octavia Minor feared that this worshiped Pharaoh Queen would be the downfall of her dear husband.

Her worrisome thoughts were quickly broken, though, by the feminine shout of the first wife, Fadia, as she ran to greet their husband.

"Marc, my love, you're home!" she said with a smile before capturing his mouth with her own.

Marc kissed her back earnestly before breaking away with a deep sigh as he brought her into the embrace as well, "Ah, I've missed you all so!"

"Dearest, you must come and see our sons. They've all grown so much in your absence! Even Iullus has grown - almost a man now. He's began work in the Senate under..." Fadia spoke excitedly, tugging gently on Marc's arm as she led him down the street in the direction of her house.

Marc glanced over his shoulder, seeming not to notice the distraught expression on his young daughter's face as he let himself be pulled away.

"I will be back soon, my loves!" he called back to them

"But...!" Antonia began to protest but her mother shushed her gently, kneeling down to her level to wrap the child in a soothing embrace.

"It's fine, my darling. Papà will be back soon and then you can tell him everything you desire, alright?"

Her mother's words were calming, her voice gentle and soft. But the hollow pit in Antonia's stomach widened like the mouth of a pitch-black chasm as her father's back faded from view, eclipsed by the ever-present rays of the sun.

The young girl waited for hours for her father to arrive at their doorstep, watching the people pass by on the white stone cobbled street. But Marc Antony never came. It was days later when news reached Antonia and Octavia that Marc took a ship back to Egypt just the day prior. This blow was the hardest for the young girl. Her father had been her idol, the most cherished hero in the eyes of his little girl.

Antonia didn't leave her room for a week, refusing to eat despite her mother's protests. Her daughter's listlessness increased Octavia's worries tenfold which is how she found herself weaving in and out of the busy streets of Rome. Her sandaled feet pounded on the hot white stones as she pushed her way through the crowd, desperate to arrive at her destination. And soon, she did as a sprawling ivory villa came into view. It was a magnificent work of architecture with open windows bordered by lovely billowing curtains in the soft shade of cream. A clear blue pond surrounded the house on all sides, water trickling between large, rounded stepping stones that led to the front door.

A man stepped outside at that very moment, his eyes an identical hue to that of the woman making her way to where he stood. His eyes locked on her, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he greeted his sister.

This was where Octavia would find her answers, this was the way she would seek justice.

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