Let's Kill Caesar

33: Furious Flame

"Let's talk inside guys." Cato folded his arms, glancing down the driveway. Pompey nodded and sweeped to the door with more majesty than one of Juno's peacocks. He smiled and beckoned. 

"Go Endymion, before Cato throws a tantrum."

Iovita scowled. 

Endymion hid a grin and swept into the villa of Narcissus Pompey. His feet met polished white marble tiles. "Oh wow."

He walked into an open hallway, the maze of rooms encircling the entrance like the stands of a theatre. At least five short staircases branched off from the front room. Stair rails were coiled with baby's breath and emerald ivy, some tiny yellow blooms amongst the thick coverage. Narcissus shot Endymion a smile as the rest of their companions trailed in. 

"They were the autumn blooms you see - they'll be replaced when winter hits."Pompey strode to the nearest staircase, fingertips brushing against the decor tentatively. "Winter will be a welcome sight."

"What even grows in winter?" Cato wrinkled his nose, eyes scanning the villa. 

"You're an irritating fucker, i hope you know." Narcissus shot Cato a tired frown and tilted his head. "Roses, Iovita. Roses grow in winter." 

***

Narcissus led them into the sunniest living room Endymion had ever seen. One entire wall was just tinted glass and giant sheer curtains. A complete view of Rome at Pompey's disposal. 

A tray fixed with ornate wine glasses and jug of no doubt a rich red was set on the glass coffee table. A charcuterie board of cream cheeses and crackers was already being picked at by a stone-faced Scipio. Pompey nodded to the white couches. "Please, make yourselves comfortable."

Endymion sat on the furtherest one from Atticus. His fingers dug into the shaggy blanket draped over the pillowy love-seat as those terrifying eyes raked over him. 

"Mind if I join you?" Cicero plopped down next to him, fingers balancing three cheese-loaded crackers. Pompey sat in a fur-covered armchair close next to them. Cato remained standing, lips pursed like a scolded child. It's fine. This is fine. Endymion plucked up a salt cracker and shoved it into his mouth. It was more peppery than he'd expected. 

The four allies looked to one another, waiting for someone to talk. Cicero just took up a wine glass and filled it to the brim. Pompey leaned back, legs and arms placed like he was a model in a celebrity photoshoot. Cato tapped his foot, ever the severe guest. And Endymion...well he tried to pretend this was all a terrible dream. Tried to pretend Vero never returned and Bastian never stirred the pot and he'd never allowed himself to get close to anyone but Cicero and Iovita. 

"There's no point sitting here like the biggest scandal of the season hasn't happened in our midst."

Scipio looked straight at Endymion with a frosty glare. "What the fuck are we going to do about it?"

"That's why we're here Atticus," Cicero replied calmly, adjusting her glasses. 

"Well? Does the grand Cicero have a solution besides walling this one up?"

Endymion ducked his head. Atticus laughed cruelly, jabbing a finger at him. "Or should we let this fuckwit deal with it himself? I knew we shouldn't-"

"Enough Scipio." Pompey's voice sent a shudder down his back. Atticus' mouth shut instantly. The older man sat back and crossed his arms with a hefty grunt. Endymion couldn't escape the fire burning in his pupils as Scipio glared. 

Narcissus didn't show a lick of intimidation, no matter how senior the other senator was. His face commanded silence. 

"Atticus have some faith." Pompey smiled gently, darkness suddenly gone. He nodded to Cicero with a knowing grin. "Did you really expect us to be so ill prepared?"

Endymion blinked. His throat dried out as he stammered, "Huh? What do you mean?"

Alma cleared her throat awkwardly. She pat his shoulder brusquely. "We've been playing this game longer than you Endymion. We expected a scandal."

Expected? They knew I was going to fuck this up? He couldn't hide his bewilderment. Endymion looked from face to face, insides twisting painfully. Don't freak out, don't freak out, don't freak out, don't...

"We never thought it would be you...well not necessarily," Narcissus fumbled. He flashed wide eyes to Cicero, jaw locked. 

Endymion wasn't sure he was breathing. He'd expected a bad meeting, but this - it was a new rock bottom. His voice sounded far away. "So all this...why'd you do it?"

Endymion looked straight into Cato's eyes, heart beaten all over again. "Why me? If you knew I was going to be such a fucking calamity?"

"That's not what we meant," Alma shook her head. Endymion sniffed, face red as a beet. 

"Sure. You know what, I'll get out of your hair. I've fucked up enough. Sorry." 

"Sit your ass down."

Iovita stamped his foot. "You're not going anywhere. Sit down."

Endymion dropped back on his ass. Cato was practically fuming as he crossed the room to his cousin. 

Those green eyes were narrowed to paper thin slits as he knelt down, nails digging into Endymion's knee. Alma didn't even bother to butt in. She shuffled a little along, unwilling to be caught in that hellish disposition. Oh Mercury, he's actually going to kill me.

Ten seconds of torturous silence passed, Iovita's face unflinching as the face of a boulder. Endymion's throat bobbed. "C-"

"Nope." Cato held up a finger. His jaw was clenched. Hard. He edged closer, hand suddenly grasping the back of Endymion's neck. The younger senator gasped as his head was forced down to Iovita's level. Cato's voice was so fucking loud as he breathed, "You listen to me Endymion. I mean fucking listen."

The cousins scowled at one another. Cato's hand radiated pure furious flame into the icy deadness of Endymion's skin. A flame that Endymion had always been too afraid to grasp. A flame that would burn everything he thought he had built to the ground, leave his life a pile of ashes and embers. 

That bright red and gold danced in Cato's eyes as he hissed, "You can walk out when this is over. Only then."

"I'm not going to be elected Cato."

"That's not what I'm talking about Brutus." Iovita's grip on his neck tightened. "That's not the game we're going to play anymore. Don't you understand?"

Endymion shook his head, heart in mouth. "I-"

"Forget about the election endymion. Forget it. It's not about that anymore. Cassiel made sure of that." 

Cato ducked his head and let him go. He sighed loudly, fingers running through his hair. 

"Then what is this?" Endymion looked about at his allies. "Please, tell me why the elections are bullshit now?"

Cicero slammed her fist on the chair with a torn growl. "Because Bastian and Cassiel have made it personal!"

Alma rose to her feet, nostrils flaring and eyes wild. Her teeth jabbed out as she snarled, "Because the only currency in this Republic is power - and you won't be getting your hands on anything until you get those fuckers back."