Domain of Power-The Dreamer (Book 3)

Chapter 12: When Sparks Fly

Part 1

It had become harder to tell reality from dreams, fact from fiction...and infatuation from love. The two coexist so closely, that I have lost almost all touch with my reality.

Was I imagining things between us? How would I know for certain? Were we simply just friends? The thoughts continued to gnaw at my mind. Who should I ask advice from? Apollus was out the question because he liked her...well at least until Barbarius came into the picture. I did not feel comfortable telling father. Hearing about my feelings seemed to be the last thing on his agenda. And well Romeos? He seemed to be a good friend but he was too childish to consult. Perhaps I would just keep it inside, after all that is what everyone in this family did anyway.

As the same servant girl came in to give me a weekly massage I imagined it was Priscilla doing it. Considering she did not look much older than Priscilla that imagery was not too far-fetched. I laid flat on my stomach in bed, as she poured the oils and tenderly stroked my lower back muscles before working her fingers up my shoulder blades. I smiled feeling the comfort of her soft hands sliding and then kneading my oily skin. It was one of the few moments I could unwind from the weariness of my recovery. The perfumed oils that wafted my nostrils seemed familiar. One of them must have been balsam oil. All the while I was smiling to myself enjoying the relaxation of a body massage. As she came to my toes, I felt a ticklish nerve struck. It was no use trying to suppress my giggles.

"You seem to be enjoying this," she said. I looked up to catch her usual warm smile. Just then grandfather walked in on the session.

"Hello Troy, you seem to love your massage. Maybe I should come back when you are done."

"Oh no, I was just finishing up," I said, wiping the ridiculous grin off my face. The slave girl merely nodded before leaving the room. Grandfather eyed her as she exited.

"You want to talk about anything," grandfather said. I could tell he was suppressing a grin. Maybe I should tell him or maybe I should just leave it alone. My mind was battling against the two ideas.

"Well um," I began, pulling the sheets over my exposed skin although I already had undergarments on. "I am doing well, if you are wondering." Grandfather just stared at me as if he waiting for me to confess.

"Suppose a warrior one day on his mission discovers a beautiful woman. He knows she is endangered if she stays where she is because the battle is to take place there. However she is reluctant to go with him and decides she can fend for herself and runs off. Should he run after her?"

"If he really cared, he would run through whatever desert, storm, or mountain to protect her. Does that answer your question?" he said raising an eyebrow.

"Yes it did. Excuse me I need to get dressed. I cannot stay in my undergarments." Grandfather chuckled. As he headed out the door he said quietly, "I hope you find who you are looking for."

I had made up my mind to visit Priscilla. Since the party, which was almost a few weeks ago, she had not paid a visit. I had devised an excellent plan for us to enjoy the company of each other alone away from prying eyes. It would be a secret hideout, one of the few memories that I could now recall. I wrote a letter to give to the messenger to hand to Priscilla on where we should meet. Although still nervous around horses, I decided to mount a horse with the help of a slave and ride off to her residence. When I arrived at her place, I saw a chariot also approaching. I crossed to the other side of the stone-paved road. Maybe he was a Messenger? Then a young man stepped out the chariot. He was of muscular build, a little taller than me, and had dark oily hair. As he stepped out, I saw the parents of Priscilla come out to welcome him. Who is this man? Then I saw Priscilla peer out the door, wearing a white chiton that flowed to her ankles. The four greeted each other as the parents beamed at the young man who flashed a smile at Priscilla. When the man took Priscilla's hand, my worst fear seemed realized.