When in Rome

## Part 1

In the lively Roman marketplace, Valeria moved amidst the throngs, appearing at a glance like any other city dweller. Yet, her introspective gaze hinted at an underlying unease, an anomaly given her family's illustrious stature.

Born into a renowned political dynasty, Valeria's heritage was the talk of Rome's elite. She stood at the cusp of inheriting vast wealth and influence. However, this privilege was matched by the demands of tradition and societal expectations, which weighed heavily on her.

Talk of potential marriages buzzed around her family's opulent villa. Her father's chosen suitors, each promising alliances or riches, visited frequently. Their discussions centered around her father, but their intent gazes constantly assessed Valeria, trying to discern her value. None, though, could offer the one thing she deeply desired: the freedom to be true to herself.

To find moments of reprieve from this pressure, Valeria often retreated to the bathhouse. For many Romans, it was a place of rejuvenation, and for Valeria, it provided a rare sense of clarity, shielded from her family's watchful eyes and the advances of her suitors.

Unknown to many, Valeria had discovered love. Not with the suitors her father favored, but in the secret verses of Sappho, shared with her by a compassionate servant girl in her youth. These verses unveiled a profound realization in Valeria: a deep, forbidden attraction to women.

The bathhouse, with its warm steam and resounding echoes of mirth, was Valeria's sanctuary. Here, she felt unburdened, free to reflect, dream, and hope for a world where she could wholly embrace her identity.

With poised elegance, Valeria traversed the cobbled streets, lost in profound thought. But as the bathhouse loomed ahead, an unusual sight caught her eye, causing her to momentarily halt. Among the sea of familiar elite in their opulent attire, a distinct woman stood out.
Her hair, a blazing shade of red, shimmered brilliantly under the sun, providing a vivid contrast to her simple, worn garments that marked her as a commoner. She was engrossed in a lively exchange with a vendor, but her striking amber eyes, reminiscent of a falcon's piercing gaze, shifted to Valeria as she walked by. Their gazes met, and in that brief intersection of time, a profound connection emerged.

In that gaze, Valeria felt a recognition, a vulnerability, as if she was truly seen for the first time. Those eyes seemed to delve beyond her societal roles and expectations, touching the very essence of who she was. There was no judgment, just a silent understanding, a mutual acknowledgment of unspoken truths.

However, the depth of that connection left Valeria unguarded, the walls around her heart unexpectedly shaken. Overwhelmed, she succumbed to a rush of panic. Instinctively, she quickened her steps, rushing to the bathhouse's refuge, leaving behind the mysterious woman and the profound bond they momentarily shared.

The Roman bathhouse wasn't merely a place of cleansing—it stood as an emblem of imperial magnificence and a social epicenter. Despite her frequent visits, Valeria remained in awe with each entrance. Majestic arches ushered visitors into a vast atrium where sunlight dappled through the domed ceiling, illuminating intricate mosaics that depicted tales ranging from Aeneas' valor to Venus' romances.

As Valeria stepped in, muted sounds of water, hushed conversations, and the gentle strum of a lyre filled her ears. She breathed in deeply, the air rich with the melding aromas of steam, lavender, and rose oils, hinting at the anointing sections post-bathing.

The Roman bath ritual was a choreographed experience, balancing hygiene with luxury. Valeria started at the apodyterium, the dressing room with wooden cubbies for patrons' togas and stolas. Attentive slaves stood by, ensuring the belongings' safety.

Now reduced to her nude and exposed body, Valeria progressed to the tepidarium. Adorned with delicate frescoes, this warm chamber enabled visitors to acclimate to varied temperatures. While some oiled themselves here, Valeria chose to reserve that for post-bath and progressed to the caldarium, or hot bath, where steam escaped through small ceiling perforations, and the underlying hypocaust system kept the floor and water comfortably warm. Here, Valeria could fully unwind.

Throughout her bath, Valeria caught knowing looks and greetings from fellow noblewomen, their slaves carrying essential oil flasks and strigils for cleaning. While it was common to form small clusters and exchange stories, Valeria felt distant today, her thoughts consumed by the thoughts of her future.

"Valeria!" called out a voice she recognized, pulling her back to the present, reminding her of the inescapable societal expectations.

The voice, silvery and dripping with faux sweetness, belonged to Aelia. A member of another patrician family, Aelia and Valeria had known each other since childhood. Their families' interactions had always been a mixture of formal pleasantries and veiled competitiveness.

"What a surprise to see you here," Aelia chirped, her bright blue eyes scanning Valeria top to bottom as if evaluating a piece of artwork. She was accompanied by two other ladies of equal stature, and behind them, a trail of attentive slaves.

Valeria responded with a well-practiced smile, "Aelia, it's always a pleasure. And here I thought I'd have a quiet afternoon to myself..."

Aelia laughed, a high-pitched sound that echoed slightly too loud in the humid chamber. "Oh, you know the bathhouse is where all of Rome's elite come to be seen. And speaking of being seen, word is your father is actively searching for a suitor for you." Her eyes twinkled with mischief. "Two, in fact. Both very... promising."

Suppressing a sigh, Valeria tried to keep her tone neutral. "Fathers always want what's best for their daughters, don't they?" She replied diplomatically. She did not wish to delve into her personal affairs, especially not with Aelia.

"Indeed," Aelia responded, her gaze piercing. "One must always think of the family name. Love...” she paused dramatically, “is secondary."

Valeria bit back a retort. She was all too aware of the societal expectations and the weight of her family's name. Yet, that brief exchange with the woman of amber eyes had stirred something within her, a longing for something unscripted, unburdened by duty.

"Well," Aelia continued, her voice dripping with feigned sweetness, "do enjoy your bath, Valeria. I expect we'll be seeing much more of each other soon, especially if our families become... *connected*."

Valeria nodded, keeping her composure. "Until then, Aelia."

As Aelia and her entourage drifted away, Valeria let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. The walls of the bathhouse, which had always felt comforting, suddenly felt like they were closing in. She craved an escape, a moment of genuine solace.

She decided to immerse herself in the caldarium, letting the hot waters envelop her, hoping they might melt away the pressures and expectations, even if just for a short while.

Amid the opulent mosaics and marbled columns of Rome's bathhouses, a tapestry of societal norms, clandestine affairs, and whispered secrets played out. For Valeria, these bathhouses provided more than a mere respite from daily life; they held the promise of connection, hidden beneath veils of discretion and danger.

Rome was not devoid of women who felt an attraction to their own kind. They moved with a language all their own, communicating through subtle gestures and emblematic adornments, their desires often concealed beneath the weight of convention and tradition. From a knowledgeable servant girl, Valeria had learned this art of silent communication. A gentle tug at the hem of one's stola, so it revealed just a hint of the ankle, might be a signal. A delicate touch, lingering a moment too long on another's wrist, another sign. To signify mutual interest, one might tuck a violet—a flower associated with love and affection—behind the left ear, its soft petals brushing against one's neck. Such gestures, though minute, served as beacons for those in the know, drawing them into an intricate dance of shared, secret longing.

As she rested amidst the steam of the caldarium, Valeria's sharp eyes flitted across the scene, attuned to these delicate indications. However, the murmured words of Aelia intruded upon her observations. *"... if our families become... connected."* The weight of this potential prophecy gnawed at her.

Aelia had always been a formidable presence in Valeria's life. The two had grown up in the same elite circles of Rome, their families mingling at banquets, chariot races, and theater outings. They were of the same age, their birthdays separated by mere weeks, and as such, their paths often crossed in social gatherings and celebrations.

From a young age, it was evident that the two were destined to be rivals. Whether it was in the arts, as they both took lessons in lyre playing and singing, or in their studies, where they competed for the admiration of their tutors, a silent competition seemed to brew. Aelia, with her sharp wit, often masked her barbs as compliments, while Valeria, more introspective and reserved, preferred to avoid confrontations.

Their rivalry had culminated during a grand feast when they were in their late teens. Both were set to perform for the gathered guests, showcasing their talents. Valeria, with her soulful voice, sang a delicate ode that captivated the audience. Aelia, never one to be outdone, followed with a theatrical and dramatic recitation of a popular Roman poem, stealing the spotlight. While both were applauded, whispers among the audience about who truly shone that evening kept the fires of rivalry burning.

As they transitioned into womanhood, their paths started to diverge. Aelia, always the more outgoing one, became a prominent socialite, often seen gracing the most exclusive parties and gatherings. Valeria, in contrast, delved deeper into her studies and the arts, occasionally crossing paths with Aelia but mostly moving in different circles.

The prospect of being tied to Aelia through marriage was, therefore, far from appealing to Valeria. Not only did she harbor no romantic feelings for Aelia's brother, but the thought of Aelia becoming her sister-in-law was a daunting one. The idea of facing a lifetime of veiled insults and subtle undermining was almost too much to bear.

Aelia's cryptic words about their families becoming "connected" made Valeria uneasy. The weight of societal expectations and familial obligations bore down on her, making her ever more desperate to find an escape, even if just a temporary one, in the secluded corners and steamy pools of the bathhouse.

Decimus was Aelia's elder brother, hailing from the same prominent family, whose name commanded respect and authority throughout Rome. Decimus embodied many of the traits associated with his family's esteemed lineage: tall with broad shoulders, a chiseled jawline, and an aura of pride and confidence that bordered on arrogance. To many, he was the epitome of Roman virtue – a military man, having held distinguished positions in the Roman legions, and a politician of growing repute in the Senate.

However, Valeria had known Decimus since they were children. Behind that poised exterior was a man of rigid beliefs and a domineering nature. He carried the air of entitlement that came from being born into a powerful family. His views on women were traditional, expecting them to remain silent, obedient, and subservient to the whims of their husbands. Valeria, with her love for knowledge, arts, and her progressive views on a woman's place in society, felt stifled just imagining a life bound to Decimus.

Yet, to Valeria's father, Gaius, Decimus was an ideal match for his daughter. Valeria's family, while wealthy and influential, lacked the ancient lineage and political clout the Cassius family held. To Gaius, a union between the two families could elevate the Varros, securing their status and power for generations. Moreover, Gaius admired Decimus's accomplishments in the field and his dedication to Rome. In his eyes, Decimus represented stability, legacy, and the promise of a grand future.

In contrast, Valeria's other notable suitor was Lucius. Lucius was a stark contrast to Decimus. He was not a military man but a merchant, having amassed wealth through trade across the vast Roman Empire. With his smooth words, impeccable style, and reputation as a lavish spender, Lucius was considered one of the city's most eligible bachelors. However, his charm was superficial. Lucius had a reputation for indulgence, often found at the center of Rome's most decadent parties, surrounded by wine and women. His flirtatious nature and tales of countless affairs were no secret. Valeria felt a union with him would lead to a life of constant anxiety, never truly being sure of his affections or loyalty.

Torn between the prospect of a stifling marriage with Decimus or an unpredictable one with Lucius, Valeria's heart yearned for freedom – to find love on her terms and to live a life beyond the limitations set by her family name and societal expectations.

As Valeria sat in the calming embrace of the caldarium, the whispers of the water mixed with the echoes of city gossip. Lucius, with his golden locks and charismatic charm, was no stranger to whispered tales. Many said that he was a man of varied tastes, who occasionally invited young, handsome men to share the intimacy of his chambers. These murmurs of his libertine ways made Valeria wonder if there could be space for her own desires within the realm of a life with Lucius.

In a marriage with Lucius, might the constraints of the world outside be replaced by the freedoms of their private world inside? Could it be possible that Lucius, with his own unspoken inclinations, might look the other way, or even encourage Valeria to seek solace in the arms of another woman? Would they lead separate lives under one roof, meeting occasionally for societal appearances or to produce heirs, while pursuing their respective desires in the shadows?

Such a life, full of clandestine passion and unrestrained pleasure, held its own allure. Valeria could imagine moonlit nights where she would secretly rendezvous with women who shared her yearnings, all under the unsuspecting or perhaps the tacit approval of her husband.

Yet, as tempting as that life sounded, Valeria felt a pang of sadness at the idea of giving up on genuine love and connection. Was it worth sacrificing the dream of waking up beside someone who truly knew her soul, for the fleeting pleasure of nocturnal escapades? Would the nights of pleasure make up for the days of emptiness and insincerity?

These thoughts weighed heavily on Valeria's heart. The prospect of living a double life, while freeing in some aspects, came at the cost of an earnest emotional connection. As she pondered over these scenarios, Valeria yearned for a world where she didn't have to choose between her desires and societal acceptance, where love in all its forms was celebrated openly.

As she sought such distraction, Valeria's gaze locked with that of a woman who was walking the bath's edge, who seemed equally entranced by the curve of the other bathers. When her eyes turned to admire Valeria, Valeria flashed a grin in return. The recognition in that shared look was undeniable—a brief, shared understanding amidst the enveloping steam. In the unspoken world of the bathhouse, their dance had just begun, delicate as the petals of a violet tucked behind an ear.

A gentle hum of conversations echoed around the bathhouse, punctuated by the splash of water as this other woman entered the pool. The air, thick with steam, carried the sweet scent of oils and perfumes, painting an ambiance of relaxation and subtle luxury.

Valeria gently lapped some water over her chest, letting the water capture the light and make her breasts glisten. She then watched this other woman with interest. Every gesture, every glance seemed imbued with intention. Their gazes met once more, and this time, Valeria held it, searching the woman's amber eyes for another hint of shared understanding. The woman responded with a slow blink and then, flashed a smile from across the bath.

Valeria felt a rush of warmth, unrelated to the bath's temperature. She had always found the game of silent communications thrilling, and today, it seemed, she would not go home unfulfilled. Intrigued, she decided to linger a while longer in the waters, allowing the ebb and flow of conversations and the delicate dance of hidden desires to envelop her.

In the background, other women chatted, gossiped, and laughed, some attending to beauty routines while others simply relaxed. Yet, all seemed unaware of Valeria and the other woman as they engaged in their dance of stolen, hungry glances and knowing smiles.

The partner Valeria had in this dance was an alluring woman with long, dark cascading hair and olive-toned skin was seated a few steps away. After several minutes of their flirtatious glances, Valeria decided to make her move. Summoning courage, Valeria made her way towards the woman. Standing close, she whispered, "Meet me in the alcove by the eastern wall. It's quiet and we can have some privacy."

The woman nodded subtly, her lips curling into a mysterious smile.

Valeria's heart raced as she navigated her way through the various chambers of the bathhouse, finally reaching the secluded alcove. The subtle flicker of oil lamps illuminated the space with a soft, golden glow. There was a jug of wine already waiting, along with two goblets. Pouring herself a generous helping, she took a moment to steady her nerves, the rich aroma of the fermented grapes teasing her senses.

The sound of soft footsteps approached, and Valeria turned in anticipation. Lost in the fragrant embrace of her wine and the thrill of the awaited rendezvous, Valeria was taken aback when Aelia's cold voice pierced the warm ambience.

"Enjoying the privacy, Valeria?" Aelia smirked, her dark eyes scanning the alcove with disdain.

Valeria straightened up, her pulse quickening. "Aelia. This is a surprise. What do you want?"

Aelia stepped closer, her voice dripping with malice. "I've always known there was something off about you, Valeria. Always sneaking around, watching other women a little too intently. Do you think you're the only one with secrets?"

Valeria's throat tightened, her eyes darting around the alcove. "I have no idea what you're insinuating."

A cruel smile played on Aelia's lips. "I have proof of your... inclinations. Do you think your father, the esteemed Gaius, would appreciate hearing about his precious daughter's shameful proclivities?"

Valeria felt her stomach churn, the weight of the wine in her hand suddenly too heavy. "Blackmail? Really? Is this how low you've sunk, Aelia?"

Aelia shrugged, her face unflinching, her body naked and oiled, but not yet bathed. "You of all people should know the value of leverage."

With a surge of anger, Valeria stepped forward, blocking Aelia's exit. "You will not threaten me."

Aelia tilted her chin defiantly. "You know me better than that..." she said, her voice trailling off as she looked down at Valeria's nipple and gently flicked it with a single finger.

Valeria growled as she caught Aelia's wrist. "What do you want, Aelia?"

Aelia’s sharp eyes fixed on Valeria. "My brother has approached your father with a substantial dowry offer for your hand," she began, each word dripping with significance. "No one of your... questionable lineage would typically hesitate to accept such a proposition. And yet, your father seems... reluctant. Almost as if he's waiting on something. Why?"

Valeria hesitated, but with a defiant lift of her chin, she replied, "My father respects me enough to give me a choice. I am to make my decision by sunset."

Aelia raised an eyebrow in genuine surprise. "Choice? In matters of marriage and alliances? How... modern of Gaius."

Valeria's gaze remained unwavering as she shoved Aelia's grappled arm back at her. "He may not understand every facet of who I am, but he does care about my happiness."

A moment of charged silence ensued before Aelia finally broke it. "Then choose wisely, Valeria. For once you're a part of my family, there's no turning back."

The implications of her words hung heavy in the air as the two women held each other’s gaze, a battle of wills playing out in silence.

"Why, Aelia," Valeria began with a veiled challenge in her voice, "would you want your beloved brother to be wed to someone... not entirely taken by men's charms?"

Aelia smirked, her eyes cold and calculating. "Your family’s political reach and reputation will guarantee the stability of our family name for decades. Do you think I care about your... preferences? All I need is for you to provide Decimus with an heir or two."

Then, with a move so swift and intimate it took Valeria by surprise, Aelia slid her fingers along the length of Valeria's forearm. The gesture was both tender and assertive, a touch laden with shared secrets and unspoken truths.

For a brief moment, Valeria felt a jolt of connection, a realization of shared desires. Aelia's smirk widened as she saw the recognition dawn on Valeria's face. "You see," she whispered, "we might not be so different after all."

Valeria pulled her arm back sharply, her eyes blazing. Valeria's voice trembled with a mix of anger and desperation. "People like us," she implored, her eyes seeking understanding, "should stand together. We should be each other's refuge in a world that doesn't understand us. Not... this."

Aelia chuckled, the sound echoing slightly in the steamy atmosphere of the bathhouse. "Oh, Valeria," she said with a mock sigh, "you've always been so idealistic, so naive. The world is not a place for sentimental dreams... especially in Rome." With a sly smile, Aelia added, "I've been invited to your home for dinner tonight. I expect to hear your answer then."

Before Valeria could retort, Aelia closed the gap between them, pressing her lips to Valeria's in a bold, possessive kiss. It was a kiss meant to disorient, to establish dominance, and for a heartbeat, Valeria was paralyzed by the audacity of it.

When Aelia finally pulled away, she wore a triumphant smirk. "Consider that a farewell gift," she said airily, turning to leave. "Perhaps we can enjoy more when your husband, my brother, is away at war..."

Still reeling from the kiss, Valeria did not hear Aelia's parting words. When she raised her eyes to search for Aelia, she instead caught sight of the beautiful woman she had invited earlier. The woman’s eyes were wide with shock, her lips slightly parted. Witnessing the intimate exchange, she looked momentarily hurt before a storm of anger took over her features. With a toss of her hair, she turned and strode away.

A feeling of deep regret settled in Valeria's chest. Not only had she been ensnared in Aelia's manipulations, but she might also have just lost an opportunity for genuine connection. The weight of the day's events pressed heavily on her, and for a fleeting moment, Valeria felt truly alone amidst the bustling activity of the bathhouse.

Then, there was a shift in the air and the secluded alcove was cloaked in a warm, hazy mist, and the faint aroma of lavender lingering in the air. Valeria, her senses still heightened from her recent encounter with Aelia, cautiously turned around and returned to the alcove's depths.

Stepping out of the shifting steam was the woman with arresting amber eyes and a cascade of auburn hair she recognized from the market. She moved with an easy grace, her eyes dancing with mischief. "Greetings, Valeria," she said, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Valeria's brows furrowed, her stance defensive. "I remember you... from the market. Am I hallucinating?"

Drawing nearer, the droplets on the other woman's skin shimmered in the dim light, showcasing her supple, nude form. "No, you're not dreaming," she said with a smile. "Though, I do take that as a compliment," she mused.

Valeria blinked. "Wait... You know my name?"

The woman giggled, as she helped herself to a goblet and a pour from the jug of wine. "I do. Just as you know mine..." she said, drinking deep from the goblet.

Shaking her head, Valeria protested. "No. I do not."

A secretive smile played on this stranger's lips. “You can call me Callista, then."

Valeria was not yet certain what to make of this woman. "What are you doing here?"

Sipping at the wine to shield her smile, Callista took a pause before answering. "Some say destiny, others might call it mere coincidence. But the question remains, Valeria – will you shy away from the unexpected or embrace the possibility it presents?"

Valeria's eyes narrowed, her suspicion evident. "Are you a spy?" she asked, her voice taut with a mix of caution and intrigue.

Callista laughed, a light and melodic sound that seemed to chase away the lingering tension. "Me? A spy? I'm but a simple housekeeper," she replied with an exaggerated shrug.

And how did a 'simple housekeeper' manage to gain entry into one of the most exclusive patrician bathhouses?" Valeria questioned, not quite ready to let her guard down.

Callista leaned in, her amber eyes gleaming with mischief. "Well, being simple and being resourceful are not mutually exclusive. Let's just say I've picked up a few tricks along the way," she responded cryptically, a smirk playing on her lips.

Valeria studied Callista, the riddle of her presence yet to be cracked. "And what, precisely, does a woman like you want in a place like this?" Valeria inquired, tilting her head slightly as she appraised the enigmatic Callista.

With a sly grin, Callista tilted her head to mirror Valeria, her fingers brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear – a discreet but familiar signal between women of their shared inclinations. "Perhaps I'm looking for what you're seeking," she hinted.

Valeria, already drained by the day's events, responded with a small sigh, "Today is not the day, I'm afraid."

Callista paused, looking Valeria over thoughtfully. "Sometimes, we find our deepest desires not in the arms of another, but in the truths we unravel about ourselves." She paused, letting the weight of her words settle. "And sometimes, we need a guide to show us the path to those truths."

Valeria's eyes widened in surprise, taking in the depth of the seemingly simple housewife before her. Who was this Callista, and how did she see so clearly into the maze of Valeria's heart? Valeria blinked, the mixture of confusion and intrigue evident in her eyes. "What do you mean?" she asked, genuinely curious.

Callista gestured down one of the dimly lit corridors with an air of mystery. "Come with me, and you'll see."

"And where would we be going?" Valeria pressed, cautious but undeniably drawn to the enigmatic woman.

"To a place where you might find the answers you seek," Callista replied, her voice a tantalizing promise.

"And how do you know I'm searching for answers?" Valeria challenged, eyebrows raised.

Callista glanced back at her, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Aren't we all? Every day, in every moment, we're all searching for something. The key is knowing where to look." With that, she turned on her heel, her silhouette disappearing into the misty depths of the bathhouse, leaving Valeria with a choice: to remain ensconced in her own world or to take a leap of faith into the unknown.

Surveying the steamy ambiance of the bathhouse, Valeria felt the weight of her reality pressing on her. The potential marriage to Decimus, Aelia's blackmailing, the hushed glances, and clandestine interactions. Her very existence felt like it was teetering on a knife-edge, with societal expectations on one side and her true self on the other. Could she really add another layer of complexity to an already overwhelming situation?

Yet, something about Callista tugged at her — a beacon amidst the chaos. Perhaps the woman held answers, or maybe it was just a diversion from her woes. Whatever the case, Valeria felt an undeniable pull. Shaking off her hesitation, Valeria's sandals pattered softly on the wet stones as she pursued the enigmatic housewife. Catching up, she took a breath, "Callista, wait."

Callista turned, her face an unreadable mask. "Ah, so you chose to follow."

Valeria squared her shoulders. "You speak in riddles, but you have piqued my interest. What is it you want to show me?"

The corners of Callista's lips curled into a subtle smirk. "Not what, but where. A place where shadows whisper and truths are unveiled. A refuge for those like us."

Valeria's eyebrows knitted in thought. "Like us? As in... *fricatrices*?"

Callista giggled. Roman vocabulary had yet to establish a term for women who who engage with other women, so euphemisms were used in place. Fricatrices was the plural form of fricatrix, which was the Latin word for a 'a woman that rubs.' A simple, but effective euphemism.

Valeria, never one to dance around a topic, asked, "Are you referring to the ways of Sappho?"

Callista paused and softly recited, "You set me on fire, I melt in sweet affection, as the hyacinth weaves purple on a wand." Then, without another word, she turned and continued walking, her gait purposeful.

Valeria, having recognized the words from a past reading of Sappho's poems, was again intrigued. "Wait," she called out as she followed Callista, "What is this place you speak of?"

But Callista remained a puzzle, responding with yet another riddle. "A sanctuary hidden in plain sight, a haven for those who seek to shed their masks."

As they neared the dressing chambers where Valeria had left her clothes, she hesitated. "I should change back into my clothing."

Callista glanced her way, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Where we're headed, those grand garments will only draw attention."

Leading Valeria to another concealed alcove, Callista revealed a stash of plebian garments, simple in design but neat and clean. She assessed Valeria briefly before handing her a faded tunica and a simple woolen palla. As Valeria watched, Callista began to divest herself of her own clothing, replacing it with the attire of the common folk.

Valeria hesitated for a moment, the fabric coarse in her hand. To don such attire was to shed her identity, even if just temporarily. Yet, the allure of Callista's mysteries was too potent to resist. She followed suit, donning the plebeian clothing with an air of determination.

While Callista dressed in the attire of commoners, Valeria couldn't help but steal another fleeting glance. Callista's lithe form, the gentle curve of her hips and the delicate arch of her spine, momentarily captured Valeria's attention. The soft light cast shadows on Callista’s skin, highlighting the grace of her movements.

Forcing her focus back, Valeria hastened to dress into the provided garments. As she did, she felt a prickle of awareness and looked up to find Callista peeking over her shoulder. Their eyes met, and Valeria caught the trace of a mischievous smile playing on Callista's lips. That smile, combined with the memories of their electric connection at the market, made Valeria’s heart race and cheeks flush with a mix of embarrassment and anticipation. She quickly finished dressing, eager to see where this unexpected journey would lead.

## Characters

### Mortals

* Valeria
* Aelia
* Gaius
* Decimus
* Lucius

## Links and References

* NeOlympus: When in Rome Part 1
* NeOlympus: When in Rome Part 2
* NeOlympus: When in Rome Part 3