Aftermath

These Palace Walls

Warning:  Angst, mentions of parental abuse, an incest kiss (spoiler: it doesn't involve Commodus), masturbation, and a sexual fantasy

The parchment crinkled in her pale, dry fingertips as Caesonia re-read the poem found among the plate of cosmetics. It was romantic, like the type a lover would address to their beloved, or perhaps it was the type that an artist would write to his muse, usually a maiden of heavenly beauty. Supposedly, Roman girls would give a million things to be courted with such sweet words.

Her paranoia and fear made her wish to assume the letter was mistakenly given to her. Who would shower such affection upon her anyways? She was just a general's daughter and, in the eyes of the emperor, she was also the daughter of a traitor. Yet, Caesonia could not hide her blush at the prospect of being wooed so tenderly. After all, she was a maiden of sixteen - if her father were not banished to Antioch, he would be searching for someone for her to marry. Even if he did not give her the love she wished from a father, he would still make sure that her betrothed was someone worthy of being a general's son-in-law. It was no secret her father loved his reputation more than his own kith and kin.

On the night your soft, finely curved lips met mine,

I witnessed your rosy cheeks bloom from that rose-like face of thine."

If it were truly addressed to her, then it must have been from the Emperor himself. He was the only person she'd ever kissed; it made logical sense. The question of his motives, however, remained unanswered. Did he wish to make her his concubine? Her servitude in exchange for her father's life? It was possible that his solitude and recent events have made him crave things he'd never craved so badly before.

Caesonia refused to believe that he was truly as mad as the citizens of Rome made him seem. Having been the first son born in the royal Aurelian family after at least five generations of adopted emperors, it was truly startling to know that Commodus would be the one not receiving the crown. She could only imagine how devastating it would be for the prince himself, being raised in royalty for his whole life all to be suddenly cast aside like a nobody. Wouldn't any man, given such circumstances, succumb to dark thoughts?

But, despite her sympathy for the Emperor, she knew she had to be careful. If there was anything that her time in the Roman military camps had taught her, it was that she needed to be vigilant at all times. From this sudden doubt occupying her mind, Caesonia found herself pouring small portions of the perfume out of the tiny window, onto the surrounding ivy. She thought that if the perfumes made the plants wilt, then it might be toxic for her. In all honesty, Caesonia didn't even know why she did such a thing; the suspicion of being poisoned just came automatically to her.

"Lady Caesonia," a voice called to her. She turned around to find a servant outside her chamber holding another pink dress, folded neatly. Caesonia curtsied before the servant, "Pray tell me what news you have brought for me, my lady."

The servant tried to remain emotionless, despite being addressed with such a lofty term. "The Emperor has ordered you to share his morning meal with him, Lady Caesonia. And to wear this," she handed Caesonia the carnation pink stola. "Would you like me to assist you in putting it on, Lady Caesonia?"

"No, thank you," the young woman replied. "Might I know if Caesar has any particular criteria for my hair or possibly my...face?" The servant recognized Caesonia's fright, answering calmly that there was no such requirement imposed by the emperor.

Without wasting any more time, Caesonia changed out of the coarse toga and into the stola given to her. Examining her reflection in the mirror, she tied the magenta ribbons of the garment around her shoulders, her bust, and her waist necessary for the outfit to be complete. She was still unsure about leaving her hair loose, but kept it such anyway and placed a few drops of the perfume on her neck.