New Rome

25. Julia the Younger

Julia slowly snipped the leaves off a bouquet of roses, her gaze hard.

"You have my avid attention," she assured the servant before her, prompting him to continue with his report.

"The slaves name is Caesar, my lady. She resides in safe residence, secured at Sejanus' expense. He tasks her very little and uses his leave to visit her."  The servant tattled, hands clasped neatly before him.

Julia pursed her lips thoughtfully. A man of Sejanus' rank would have no use for a slave – his salary could only be barely covering the expense. Not paying attention to what she was doing, Julia decapitated a rose – its blood red head plummeted from the table and fell in a scattering of petals on the ground. This Caesar must be his lover, Julia presumed – and her nostrils flared indignantly.

"Show me the slave's image." She ordered, putting aside her scissors. The servant handed over a cluster of photographs – candid shots furtively taken of Caesar. Jealousy seethed in Julia's stomach like a nest of snakes. The girl looked younger than she was and prettier. Julia shuddered and scratched at her neck. Had she come so low that a slave could beat her?

"She must be got rid of," Julia declared, her voice soft and cold. "Can it be done? Without notifying my absent husband or worthy grandfather?"

The servant considered this, hiding his surprise. He nodded slowly.

"A path that might be trod does... spring to mind. But it would require coin and a sizable amount of it."

Julia smiled, though it didn't meet her eyes.

"Coin, I can provide." She promised, heading over the garden table to drink again from her glass. The alcohol burnt her throat in a wonderful familiar tang – like the caress of an old friend. She pursed her lips and hummed contentedly.

*

Sejanus bounded down the stairs of the inn and marched briskly into the bar area. He scanned the cramped room, in case he could spy Caesar sat inconspicuously in a nook.

"Drink, young master?" The bar man asked, seeing Sejanus leaning impatiently against the counter.

"The girl staying here, months rent all paid up – by the name of Caesar. I was expecting to find her here but I discover only an empty room. Have you knowledge of her whereabouts?"

"The slave girl?" The barman clarified, gesturing at his arm where Caesar had a branding mark. Sejanus nodded.

"Not set eyes on her for," the man hesitated, "three days, I think. She stopped showing for meals, though as per your generosity they were all provided."

Sejanus was truly worried now.

"She stopped attending meals and you didn't think to alert me."

"Now, now young master," the barman reasoned, putting up his dirty hands in surrender. "You left no instructions for us to mind the girl and, in usual tenants, we pride ourselves in not seeing what the patrons are doing. For privacy sake, you see."

Sejanus grunted unhappily and drummed his fingers against the counter.

"Send word if she returns." He instructed gruffly at last, intent on leaving and searching the streets for Caesar.