Ashen

17

A/N: I know, I know, exciting prologue, unexciting first chapter. Chapters 2 and 3 are coming out soon and the story quickly gets rolling. Keep reading!

7:00 a.m.
  Poppilia awoke to a slave entering her chamber and opening the curtains, light flooding into the room. She blinked her bleary eyes, then wearily propped herself up on her elbows.

"Bonum Mate. Good morning." She smiled at the slave girl. The girl nodded timidly and scurried to attend to the chores.

Poppilia swung her sleek legs out of her bed and dressed, donning a long white robe, or stola, with red lining. She called the slave girl, Giulia, back into the room to dress her hair.

"Good morning, mother," Poppilia called out as she descended the stairs and entered the dining room. A large wooden table was laden with cheese, grapes, water, and dipping honey.

"My daughter." Paulina Cicero gracefully entered the room and approached her daughter, cupping her face in her hands. "Seventeen today, I believe." She gave a warm smile.

Paulina Cicero was a tall, slender woman, known in Pompeii for her sumptuous feasts, held for her husband's business peers. Her husband, Cyrus Cicero, was a prominent local senator, rich, and well respected. With 2 daughters and 3 healthy sons, they were considered favoured by the gods. Anthony had built a large villa for his family, complete with detailed mosaic floors, 2 courtyards, and an upper level- what seemed to be a cathedral in the town of mostly meager-income residents. Poppillia's younger 15-year-old sister, Theodora, was already seated at the table. "Happy Birthday, Pop," she greeted gently. Theodora was already ready to be a housewife in ways Poppilia wasn't quite ready for herself. Genteel and quiet, Theodora had already mastered the art of hosting a party, cooking, cleaning and sewing. Though they had slaves to do all these things for their family, Paulina encouraged her daughters to learn how to take care of themselves without relying on the service of others.

Birthdays were not celebrated for women. Only the men of ancient Rome had the honour of their birthday being celebrated by friends and family. However, the Cicero women quietly acknowledged birthdays every year with fresh caught fish and sweet cakes for breakfast. The girl's' father had already left for the day, his schedule full of meetings and formal gatherings.

After Poppilia had eaten to her heart's content, she slipped out into the courtyard, where she devoured works of Aristotle and Plato. The sisters were highly educated, nearly unheard of in a world against the betterment of women. She sat on a marble bench, a fountain bubbling a few feet away. Just as she opened her book, the sound of drumbeats caught her ear. Curious, she went to the front of the house. A beaten man was limping past, his wrists bound in chains. Beside him was a procession of Roman soldiers, drummer boys, and a jeering crowd, following him excitedly to his death.
Poppilia immediately put her hand to her mouth. An execution, she thought.

Someone grabbed her hand. "Oh!" She whirled around, startled. "Oh, Davina! You scared me!"

Poppilia's friend flung her arms around her. "I've missed you, Pop! C'mon, we haven't seen each other for ages, won't you go with me to the execution? Apparently this one's a murderer." Her boisterous friend urged her with glittering eyes.

Public executions were nothing short of an occasion in a small town like Pompeii. Usually all the men gathered into a rowdy crowd, jeering and yelling for the victim's death, but in recent years, women attended more and more. Poppilia, however, had not been allowed.

"You're only sixteen," her mother had chided. "An execution is no place for a young lady."

"But Davina is allowed to go!" Poppilia interjected beseechingly.

"No." was her mother's firm final answer.

But now that she was seventeen and betrothed, the true mark of a woman, surely she would be allowed. Still, she was hesitant.

"Oh, I don't know, Davina. My parents-"

"Your parents what? They still won't allow you? That's absolute blather, Pop. You're going." And with that, her friend grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her into the mob.

A/N: Hello readers! Don't leave yet-things get a little more exciting in Chapter 2 and 3. Make sure to vote for this if you like it!