EMBERS (Marcus Acacius)

XXVI | A Contentious Affair

Acacius and Lucilla had kindly provided me with the accompaniment of one of their household guards to escort me from Aemillius' place in the city. It was by no means a short ride to the suburban villa. We had left behind all the sounds of Rome, by the time our houses halted at a majestic, wrought-iron gate.

"Who goes there?" A sharp voice called out from the darkness. I glanced over at my escort, who pulled back his hood and exposed his face to the moonlight. "Oh, Livius," the voice muttered, barely audible over the chirping of the crickets in the foliage. "Go ahead."

The gate creaked open and I gently nudged my mount's flank with the heel of my boot. The mare nickered quietly, before moving into a steady trot along the cobblestoned path.

"The Lady Lucilla has requested that you be brought directly to her in the gardens." I nodded in acknowledgement, but I thought it unlikely that Livius could see the movement. He was looking directly ahead, paying me little mind, as if this whole ordeal was a complete waste of his precious time. "I will take your horse to the stable for you."

"Thank you," I replied, as we came to a halt at the end of the long avenue. I quickly dismounted and handed the reins to the man. He took them without a word and disappeared into the darkness.

It was brighter here; torches sat nestled in metal sconces on either side of the large wooden doors of the house. A young woman stood in the ajar doorway, following me with wide blue eyes as I approached. "Lady Adriana," she greeted timidly, ducking her head and opening the door. "Master Acacius is expecting you."

"Thank you." I shot her a warm smile as I entered the secluded garden, my intrigued eyes scanning the space. Rome's marble and grandeur as undoubtedly an influence, but Lucilla's own taste—her quiet restraint and tasteful aesthetic—clearly shone through. The door shut gently behind me and I turned to face the girl. "Where is he—"

"—Adriana." The soft voice drifted from over my shoulder and I glanced around, to see Acacius. He stood in the orange glow of torch light, beside a marble bust of a man. A smile spread onto my lips as I took him in. He wore humble robes of brown and stood with his hands clasped in front of him. He took a step forwards and nodded towards the servant girl, who quickly made herself scarce. "I wasn't sure you would come."

I let out a low chuckle, ignoring his outstretched hand, as I approached. "Neither was I." He was smooth though; he didn't let it linger for a second longer, before he swept it through the air and gestured towards the garden behind him. "But, I couldn't decline an invite from General Justus Acacius of the Roman Legions, now could I?"

Acacius snorted scathingly, shaking his head in disappointment. "Please don't call me that." I giggled quietly as we made past a large carp pond and numerous other busts of familiar men. Only our footsteps and the gentle rippling of water was audible in the slightly uncomfortable silence. "Just Marcus... or Acacius. Not the whole titles thing. It's so pretentious."

"But, you've earned the title," I retorted good-naturedly, watching as his expression contorted bitterly. "Oh, well. It's too many words to say every time I see you, anyway." I faced back ahead, to see a table in the centre of the oasis, three chairs sat around it. In one of them, sat Lucilla, as beautiful as ever, dressed in a long gown. Gold glinted in her ears as she turned to face me, a strained smile overtaking her flawless features. "Good evening," I greeted politely.

"Adriana," Lucilla replied cordially. She gestured for me to take the seat to her right and I did, leaving the final vacant one for Acacius. "Is everything alright?" She queried, mild concern in her smooth voice. "Where did you run off to after the games?"

How do I even respond to that?

I bit my lip thoughtfully as Acacius lowered himself into the empty seat, his eyes never straying from my own. It ought to have made me uncomfortable, but I felt strangely warm in the light of his gaze—not that I would ever voice that notion out loud. He looked genuinely curious though, as did Lucilla. Both were eyeing me with an air of mutual suspicion; I had disappeared on them in quite a rush, insisted on returning shortly, but I never had. Of course they invited an explanation.