by Sandi Rog
David strode from the back gardens into the peristyle.
Alethea’s heart beat a little faster and immediately she awakened. She thought she’d become accustomed to seeing him more often, but his handsome form always made her light-headed. It was just David, she told herself. She knew him better than she knew anyone. Still, she couldn’t control the fluttering of her heart.
“Dav . . . Damonus.”
David stopped and turned to face her. His eyes didn’t meet hers.
“Come fluff my pillows.” Alethea straightened out her stola and lifted her chin, creating her best pose so she might look as attractive as possible.
David came and stood over her.
She lifted herself to give him access to her pillows.
He grabbed one and punched it, then gingerly set it down on her couch.
She lay back on it as he waited for her to dismiss him.
“Not good enough.” Alethea sat up again.
David fluffed the pillow with his large hands, and Alethea admired his knuckles and the masculine shape of his arms below his tunic sleeves. He placed the pillow back down, giving it one last pat.
She lay against it and shook her head. “Nope. Still not right.”
This time, David’s gaze met hers, his blue orbs piercing her through as she sat up.
Again, David fluffed the cushion and placed it back down.
This time Alethea didn’t bother lying on it and shook her head.
David raised a brow. He picked the pillow up, held it in his palm, and gave it one hard punch. Its feathers fluttered to the floor and the fabric flattened.
Alethea gasped.
“Forgive me, mistress.” David bowed before her. “I’ll fetch you another one.” He waited for her to dismiss him.
Speechless, Alethea waved so he could go. David walked away, his large hand making the leftover pillow look like a worn out, limp rag used for scrubbing, the feathers leaving a weeping trail behind him.
She sat up, hugging her knees, since she couldn’t lie back on the now uncomfortable chair. Leaning her cheek on her knee, she glanced at her mother, whom she expected to have missed the entire scene, but to her surprise, her mother eyed her suspiciously.
Another servant returned with a pillow for Alethea. She gave it a good whack, sorry David hadn’t brought it.
The following day, Alethea ran screaming from the kitchen, sure that David would hear since she just saw him walk toward the atrium. She skidded to a stop in the atrium as David rushed to her.
“What is it?” he asked, hunching over her in a protective manner.
“A spider!” She pointed to the kitchen.
David looked down the hall, then at her as if she’d lost her mind.
“Kill it!” She stomped her foot.
David’s stance relaxed, and he sauntered down the hall.
Alethea followed behind, enjoying the view in front of her. His tunic clung to his broad shoulders. Power radiated from his being. How she longed for him to take her into his strong arms.
He walked into the kitchen, his large form making the chamber look small. “Where is it?”
She stood outside the door. “Behind the pots and pans.”
David went to the cooking utensils hanging from the ceiling, shoved them out of his way, spotted the spider and mashed it with the side of his fist. He turned and faced her. “Anything else?”
Alethea swallowed and shook her head.
David watched her. She straightened and tossed her hair over her shoulder, trying her best to look pretty for him. When he continued to stare as if he were waiting for something, she realized he was waiting for her to dismiss him.
“You may go.” She lifted her chin.
David walked through the door and by her.
His scent lingered on the air, and she took in a long, deep breath of pine and leather. He may have left the room, but a part of him lingered. She sighed.
Days later, Alethea danced and sang for the family. She began next to David as he stood, straight as a column, waiting to juggle. She belted out the first line, in Latin of course, and tried to focus on God. Oh, how she preferred Greek, but she sang for Him and not them. As she sang, she danced between her mother and grandmother, swirling her sash. She always felt the sash made a wonderful dance partner. She twirled by Grandfather and slipped in front of her uncle. The dance movements carried her before Demetri. His eyes raked over her from the top of her head, down to her toes. Uncomfortable with his leering gaze, she flicked her sash at his face. He jerked back.
Alethea laughed.
His lips turned up into a smile, and his green eyes darkened.
Inwardly, Alethea cringed. That didn’t have the effect she’d hoped for. That grin told her he thought she was teasing him. Her voice weakened, but she caught herself just in time to belt out another verse. She spun around and glided between her family. She caught David watching her.
David began whistling to the tune of her song. He tossed his rings in the air and began juggling. It made for a nice closure to her routine, and she motioned for everyone to focus on David. He stepped forward and picked up from her act. Relieved, Alethea bowed, but lifted her eyes to see that Demetri still watched her. She hurried from the peristyle.
Later, Alethea wandered the woods, reveling in the beauty beneath the canopy of trees. Hearing a twig snap, she turned.
David.
He ducked under a branch as he made his way in her direction.
How long had it been since they met in the woods together like this? She smiled, welcoming him into her private chambers as the birds also sang their welcome.
He frowned as he stepped deliberately toward her. “You need to stop.” He looked at her, his blue gaze severe.
She straightened to her full height and tried to look down her nose at him even though she had to arch her neck to do so. “Stop what?”
“It’s not right. It’s inappropriate.” He studied her, and then he shifted his stance and stared into the forest surrounding them.
“What are you talking about?” She motioned toward the trees as if they might give her an answer.
“I’ve seen the way Demetri watches you when you’re dancing.” The words seemed to take his breath away. His jaw pulsed as he waited for her response.
“I’ve always danced for the family.” She stepped closer to him. “Why should I stop now?”
He leaned down over her. “You’re a woman now,” he said between clenched teeth. “It’s different.”
Alethea shrugged. “What are you talking about?”
“You should only dance that way for your husband, in the privacy of your chamber, not in public.”
“Who are you to tell me what to do?” She put her hands on her hips.
“I’m a man.” He thumbed his chest. “I know what he’s doing. He’s undressing you with his eyes.”
Alethea gasped.
David continued to watch her, his eyes blazing with fury. If he knew so well what Demetri was thinking, how often had he thought the same?
Suddenly she felt exposed. As if she were wandering the woods with nothing on at all. His gaze quickly raked over her. Gasping, she slapped him.
He straightened. His flashing eyes narrowed, and he didn’t put his hand to his cheek. He simply stood there as a pink handprint appeared on his face.
“If you don’t stop,” his words were a forced calm, “you might regret it.”
She stepped back, studying him. What could he mean by that? Would he harm her? He certainly could if he wanted to, especially the way his broad shoulders loomed over her. Would he reach out and grab her? Harm her with those big hands of his? Or do worse?
Fury and disappointment shook her. How dare he ruin what they had together. She’d never meet him alone again. She ran from him, dodging trees and branches, fearing he might be on her heels. She looked back, but he didn’t follow. Never had she felt so vulnerable around David. Her David. The only one she trusted, and for the first time, he
frightened her.
The next day, Alethea wandered into the atrium. She’d purposely wandered through the field in her bare feet. Now they were nice and brown with dirt. Earlier, she’d spotted David enter by way of the hall that went past Grandfather’s office chamber. Grandfather was on the other side of the hill, showing Demetri the land that belonged to her father, so she knew she was safe to cause more trouble for David. And he deserved it, especially after the way he’d frightened her in the woods. Out of breath from running, she slumped onto the edge of the impluvium just in time for David to come out of the hall and into the atrium.
“David.” Alethea made her tone sound as authoritative as possible.
He stopped and looked at her.
“Wash my feet.” She lifted her leg and wiggled her filthy toes.
He stood there for a while, his emotions shuttered, as he studied her feet. She kicked them up so he could get a better look. The corner of his mouth lifted.
Alethea straightened in feigned dignity. “The towels and bowls are in the kitchen.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder.
He started toward her. “I won’t need them.”
She puffed up her chest. “What do you mean, you won’t need them?” Her tone reminded her of her mother. She lifted her chin.
He stood over her. “Because there’s plenty of water here.” With an easy lift of her legs, he flipped her back.
Alethea’s arms swung, trying to regain her balance, but her body plunged into the fountain. She held her breath as the water enveloped her and her rump landed on the bottom of the pool. She pushed up, her feet finding the bottom. At once, she stood, spewing water from her mouth and turning to find David as he walked away.
“See.” He motioned over his shoulder toward her. “Your feet are clean.”
Incensed, Alethea looked down at her feet to see that they were indeed clean, only to look right back up at David’s retreating form.
Growling, she splashed water at him, but he was too far to be reached. Feeling like a wet rag that needed a good wringing, she crawled out of the pool.
Ω
After roaming through the evening woods, Alethea wandered into the atrium. Music, heat, and jasmine rushed to her senses. David stood near the impluvium, juggling lit torches in the dim light. The dancing flames reflected off the water in the fountain. The lights turned around and around in the air, mesmerizing those watching. Alethea caught Vibia’s expression. Her gaze riveted on David’s handsome form. Jealously twisted in Alethea’s gut.
The music grew in volume. The sistrum shook to the beat of David’s juggling, and the musician plucked the lyre to the same beat with several notes intermingling. But what made the music come alive around her, flying over her, spinning in her mind were the notes of the whistling pipe.
Eyes fixed on David, Alethea removed the sash binding her stola. She waved it in the air, around her, above her, and at her feet to the beat of the music as she danced in David’s direction. All eyes turned to her, and she cast a smug grin at Vibia.
Alethea came around David. She flipped her sash over his shoulder and dragged it down his back as he juggled the fire. She spun away and danced around him. She skipped between the family members reclining on couches, waving and flicking her sash at the onlookers. Grandfather’s smile broadened. Too bad Demetri had to be there. His concentrated gaze always made her uncomfortable, but she ignored him this time. And she shoved away David’s words about what he might be thinking.
Alethea moved again toward David, gliding, skipping, and turning. She flicked the sash at him. He didn’t flinch and kept on juggling, his eyes riveted to one spot, staring off into some unknown place. Why wouldn’t he look at her?
She turned around him and ran the ends of the fabric along his strong arms as they moved in time to the music, dragging the sash over his biceps, golden under the reflection of the fire.
Giggling, she turned in front of him and whisked her sash through the air. The family watched, mesmerized. She recalled the movements the dancers made at her betrothal, and tried to move like those women, hips swaying and arms floating, hoping to capture David’s attention. She turned seductively and swirled the sash above her head.
Vibia screamed.
Alethea stopped.
“Look out!” Grandfather stood.
Ash floated from the ceiling. Alethea looked up to see David snatching her flaming sash out of the air, snaking it above her head. He tossed it into the impluvium, and the flames hissed as the water swallowed the delicate fabric.
David turned on her, eyes flashing as he held his torches in one hand.
“That will be all, Damonus.” Grandfather motioned with his chin for David to leave.
David nodded, then turned and marched away.
“That was a dangerous stunt, Aucella.” Grandfather walked up to her. “What were you thinking?”
“You didn’t enjoy it? I saw you smiling.” Alethea swallowed hard, hoping he wouldn’t beat her.
“He’s a slave.”
“Of course.” She tossed her chin up, trying to hide her fear that he might see right into her heart. “You think I don’t know that? I thought it would be more entertaining to distract him, make him fumble.”
Grandfather raised an accusing brow. “When your belt caught fire, he did fumble, and he burned himself in the process of saving you from your foolishness.”
Alethea’s heart stopped. She’d hurt David. Again. “Forgive me, Grandfather. I’ll be more careful next time.”
“It’s not him I’m worried about.” He looked down his nose at her.
Movement came from behind Grandfather as the others got up from the couches and sofas.
Uncle Servius yawned and stretched. “Time to retire.”
Alethea caught her mother’s knowing gaze; she saw right through Alethea’s charade, and her eyes pierced right to the truth. Demetri remained on his couch, watching David’s retreating form, and then Alethea. Her mouth suddenly went dry. She stood like a statue as the rest of the family filed out of the atrium. Demetri came toward her, his movements deliberate and his long tunic emphasizing his height. Fearing he might also see the truth in her eyes, she looked down at the ground. As he swept past, his strong cologne remained on the air. She watched him disappear down the hall where David had left.
The only one remaining was her mother. She stood, folded her arms, and walked to Alethea. She stopped in front of her.
Alethea lifted her chin in defiance.
“Don’t think I’m unaware of your love for the boy.”
Cold terror trickled down Alethea’s spine. But then, she remembered her mother. She would never have the courage to give away her secret.
“You’re my daughter.” Her mother sighed. “I know you better than anyone else around here.”
Anger caused the room to shudder, and Alethea clenched her fists at her sides. Now, after all these years she chose to confront her, to act as a mother.
“Well,” Alethea’s voice sounded hollow in the empty atrium, “I don’t know you.”
Despair clouded her mother’s face.
With that, Alethea turned and walked away.
Ω
After the family retired and Vibia’s breathing became regular from sleep, Alethea slipped on her wrap and crept from her chamber. Silence drifted through the house as she snuck through the hall that led to the plaza. She rounded the corner and nearly collided with a shadow.
Titus.
Alethea stepped back, gaze focused on the ground, then remembering who she was, she thrust her chin high. “I need to apologize to Dav—Damonus. Do you know where I can find him?”
Titus motioned with his thumb to the stables. “He’s there. Shall I send for him?”
“No. I’ll go myself.”
Titus nodded and stepped aside.
Alethea made her way to the stables, glancing over her shoulder to make sure Titus didn’t follow. Seeing that she was alone, she scurried through the empty plaza and through th
e gate, the evening air cooling her cheeks. A light flickered from inside.
What was he doing in there at this time of night?
As she neared, the scent of manure and hay filled her nostrils. The moon reflected off the mud brick flaking along the doorposts. All was quiet as she crept between the stalls, wooden rafters hovering above her head.
“David?” Alethea whispered into the darkness as she made her way toward the dim light in the back. She turned the corner and there was David hanging from the rafters, pulling his chin above the beam, then down and up again. She stopped at the sight, his muscles flexing and shimmering as the torch cast long shadows about the chamber.
David released the beam and dropped to the dirt floor. Their gazes met and his eyes narrowed. With a severe gait, he walked toward her, jaw tight and hands fisted at his sides.
Instinctively, Alethea stepped back until she came against a wall. His mere presence held her there as though an invisible force pressed against her. Sensing she’d better say something to tame him, she said, “I came to thank—”
“Don’t ever do that to me again.” His voice was a fierce whisper as he pinned her with his words.
“I . . . I . . . .” Alethea stammered, taken aback by the force of his tone, her apology dissolving on her tongue. In an effort to regain her dignity, she straightened. “Or you’ll do what?”
His eyes flashed as he moved closer.
Gasping, she stepped back, but the wall blocked her feet.
David loomed over her, his broad shoulders engulfing her into a cavern and his threatening stance making her aware of how small she was compared to him. The fire from the torch reflected on his face, its softness contrasting with the harsh tension set in his jaw. He placed his palm against the wall over her shoulder, holding her captive. He lifted his other hand, and she held her breath as his closeness whispered a promise of more.
