Thread: ×Î¹âÎ¹É¢Ï â vÎ¹cÑÏÐ¼ â ÑÏÑÏs â¡ {Methos and Pretty}

listulistulistulistulistulistu The sun was setting in the eastern sky, casting long shadows over the flagstone streets of Rome. The streets were clearing, decent folk returning to their homes for the night. A single litter made its way through the Forum, half a dozen armed men trotting attentively beside it. Inside a single man and a young woman rode in silence. The man's head was bent over a scroll, appearing to read the parchment in the dying light as his slaves carried the litter through the streets. He muttered occasionally to himself, his gray streaked hair falling into his dark eyes. The young woman sat docilely beside him, lounging at her ease, her eyes downcast. What could be so important that he had to meet us immediately? the man said for what seemed the hundredth time. The young woman rolled her shoulders in a helpless shrug. Uncle Pompey didn't sound very pleased in the letter, she commented idly. She knew that her father hadn't heard a word she had said since they had left the villa. She knew he was worried that he had somehow angered his uncle, and confused as to why he had demanded for her, the youngest daughter, to be present. It did not bode well for their family, or her for that matter, but she had little reason to fear. She could think of no reason offhand that could cause her uncle to be angry with her. They arrived at the domus of Pompey Magnus in a short matter of time. After a brisk greeting from the servants, they were ushered inside and into the the triclinium, where the great politician Pompey Magnus was lounging on a couch, idly eating dates. He rose to greet them, embracing her father first and bestowing a kiss on her brow. Esme, my child, you grow more beautiful each passing day. She smiled, inclining her head politely to him. You are too kind, Uncle, she replied. He bade them sit, making himself comfortable once more. I have news, he said, getting straight to the point. He looked to her father, forgetting that she was present for the moment. I have promised Esme to one of my dear friend Caesar's generals. Her startled gasp was ignored by both of the men. Who? her father questioned. Pompey took a letter from his robes and opened it carefully. General Cassius Claudius, he read aloud. Her father was silent for several long moments, eyes turned inward in though. The boy hero? he asked at last. Pompey nodded. Her father did not answer right away, at last he turned to Esme. It appears you will not be a widow much longer. Pompey chuckled, slipping the letter back into the folds of his pristine white robes. The boy will arrive in a week. I suggest you make yourselves ready to receive him. listulistulistulistulistulistulistulistulistulistulistulistulistulistu The week passed in a blur. She and her father had returned from their uncle's soon after the they had received the news. There was a wedding to plan and a household to prepare. While her family was not as wealthy as Pompey Magnus, they were no paupers either. The boy general would be received in style. For the most part, Esme was kept out of the way, needed only for fitting of her bridal robes. For most of the week, the young woman stayed in her rooms, refusing to speak with anyone. I don't understand what's wrong with the girl, he father commented the day the general was due to arrive. Weddings are happy occasions. Wasn't she happy during her wedding to Dreccus? Her mother only smiled and kissed her husband. She is nervous, that is all. She led her husband into the triclinium to await their guest. listulistu