The Empress of Rome

1: Pina

What is your oldest memory?
What memory itches at the corner of your mind and slips through your fingers just as you begin to grasp it?
A fuzzy face? Maybe something you felt? Maybe even a smell.

I sat across from Drusilla on the bench in the triclinium. Her skin glowed in the dim light that burning candles provided, as the remnants of a thick coat of olive oil clung to her tanned skin. It was hot and I could feel the heat trap itself within my stola. Despite the blistering heat, Drusilla smiled, seemingly unaffected by the waves of hot air flowing through the room.

"Pina? You still in there? Agrippina?"

My eyes snapped to meet Drusilla's. I hated that nickname. She was younger than me by only a year, but she somehow seemed much older than me. I'd never felt like the eldest sister while she was in the room.

"I'm still here."

"So? Are you going to answer?"

What's your earliest memory?

I grimaced. Despite the year difference, I remembered much more than she did about what happened to our father. I remember what happened to our family.

"Come on, Pina, you promised!"

She was right. I had promised. I looked down and fiddled with the hem of my stola, biting down on my lower lip. I really didn't want to make her upset, but she would never stop asking about our parents if I didn't tell her now. My eyes darted around the empty triclinium, looking for something - anything - to land on that wasn't my sister's pleading eyes.

"I'll tell you when you've actually married."

"I'm engaged to Cassius - that was the deal. Now spill."

I hesitated before meeting her warm eyes, which shone brightly in the warm light that filled the room. I rolled my shoulders back as I sat on the lectus. Drusilla was reclining and batting her eyes up at me. I gave a heavy sigh before raising my hands in defeat.

"Fine. Just don't interru-"

"I won't."

She gave a mischievous smile.

-••••••-

I remember waking up to the smell of bread. Antonia was the one to wake me. She was my grandmother. I remember the smell of her perfume. It used to cling to her skin in a slick coat of oil around her wrists and neck.

Her face looked strange that morning, and her smile seemed off - everyone's smile seemed off that day. Antonia took me to the senate house and left my siblings back at home, sleeping. Except for Gaius. He was out in Germania with Mother and Father. He was always the favorite. They even nicknamed him "Caligula".

I knew something was wrong. Antonia's hand wrapped around mine and she walked closer to me than normal as we passed through Rome's forum. It was busy and the smell of meats and breads, horses and soldiers, wine and olive oil, wafted through the air. I was too little to see over the counter of any of the food stalls, and I stayed by Antonia's hip until we reached the senate house. The old men looked down at me with a complex expression.

"Is Pater home?"

"No."

"Is Mater-"

"No."

I heard soft whispers from the old senators as they crowded in a circle at the edges of the large atrium of the senate house. I tugged against Antonia's grip and tried to hear what they were saying.