The Empress of Rome

8: a Troublous Chapter

I was lying down in bed, staring at the ceiling intently, waiting for it to move. It was the night before Drusilla's wedding, so I knew I had to be well-rested. But I just couldn't sleep.

Gnaeus was snoring softly beside me. I couldn't make out his features in the dark room, so I didn't bother.
It'd been months since Mater died, but I still dreamed about her. Now she was with Nero. I hardly thought about him anymore.
I inhaled deeply, hoping that I could recall how Nero smelled. I couldn't. Nor could I remember his smile anymore.
I slid my legs out from the covers and sat up, glancing down at Gnaeus, hoping my movement wouldn't wake him. He was fast asleep.
Quietly making my way out of bed, I tiptoed towards the door. The wood beneath my feet creaked softly, complaining about my weight.

Oh shut up.

I finally arrived at the door, and, opening it as quietly as possible, exited the bedroom. I let out a breath of relief as I stood in the hallway, looking around.

Now what?

I didn't know. My feet started moving and I was off. I passed several doorways and through corridors. My legs took me up and down flights of stairs. I felt my heart pound against my chest as my fear of getting caught seemed to increase with every passing moment.

Stupid, insubordinate feet!

Then, they stopped, as if they'd heard me.
I'd arrived at my destination.

The tile floor of the kitchen was cold against my bare feet.

I looked around and began grasping at shelves, my hands frantically searching for something. I didn't know what. The kitchen had tables around the edge of the room and one large wooden table in the middle. The shelves were fully stocked with hundreds of small pots and boxes, ingredients and herbs.

As I searched, I felt like something was sitting on my chest, trying to kill me. A spirit or a shade. My throat felt tight as if it also decided that I should die. Blood was pumping through my veins rapidly and my vision blurred.

Finally, I found it. My fingers tugged at the corner of it, shifting it to the edge of the shelf and I carefully pulled it down. My toes ached from holding me up so high.
I relaxed as I held the clay box in my arms. It was painted elegantly with summer flowers and bees on the lid. I stared down at it. It looked like summer.

Once again disobeying me, by fingers pried at the lid and uncovered the honey cakes lying within.
The box and sweets were meant to be a wedding present for Drusilla.
We ate honey cakes all the time as children. Nero and Drusus would lie about how many we had, and then stash the others away. I found out one time and tackled Nero. It didn't go well.

I sat on the kitchen floor, tears rolling down my cheeks, my chest convulsing as I gasped for breath. Whatever spirit was on my chest began pushing down harder. With all my strength, I pulled the box tighter to my body.
I couldn't hear the footsteps approaching the kitchen as I fought for my life against the spirit crushing my chest.

"Agrippina?"

I looked up to see a candle. Well, not just a candle. The candle was being held by a red beard that coated the concerned expression of my husband. I opened my mouth, but didn't know what to say. Without a thought, my lips spoke for me: