Roman Flames

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Mother

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Mother

Sanctius

The headache woke me up. I groaned as I sat up, looking at Vespera's handiwork. She had sewn all of my wounds shut, and to be honest, I was surprised. To my knowledge, she had never done anything like this before. The stitches were a little uneven, but I wasn't going to complain. I wasn't in pain and I wasn't bleeding.

I got out slowly and noticed a clean tunic neatly folded at the foot of my bed. I put it on carefully. I felt pretty groggy, even though I had slept without any problems, and I stretched. Stifling a yawn, I opened the door, stepped into the hallway, and fell.

"Ouch, good heavens!" I hissed. And I saw what I had tripped over. Decimus was lying on the ground outside my door, waking up after I fell on him. I blinked. "Decimus?"

"Look who awakens," he muttered.

"Why are you sleeping on the floor?" I stood and helped him up.

"Not enough beds."

I frowned. "There aren't?"

"We had a surprise guest last night."

"Oh." I rubbed my eyes and stretched, hoping to wake up so I could understand what was going on. "Have you seen Vespera?"

"Probably already awake."

I let out a sigh and walked to the tavern, where I saw Vespera sitting at one of the tables with another woman, who had her back to me. She must've been the surprise guest.

"You're awake," Vespera smiled, and she came up to me and kissed my cheek. "Good morning."

"Good morning, my love," I replied.

The woman turned around. "It must be lovely to wake up to a loving husband or...wife..." her voice trailed off, and I met her gaze.

Very familiar hazel eyes stared back at me, and I felt frozen in my place, with my eyes wide. Everything stopped in that moment and the woman and I were the only ones left in the world. I took a tentative step forward, unsure if I was dreaming or far more hung over than I had thought. She stood as well, her hand going to her mouth. My vision blurred, and I realized my eyes had welled up. But I still wasn't sure if I was seeing...her. "M—Mama?"

She let out a sob, staring at me, unbelieving. "It can't be..."

We were both staring at each other across the distance, which I could have crossed in three easy strides, but I couldn't seem to move. "You're..."

"Alive," she breathed, and she closed the distance and wrapped her arms around my waist and rested her head on my chest. I hugged her tightly, cradling her head and letting a few tears fall into her hair. I was really, really confused, and unsure if I was dreaming. I'd had dreams like this before, but this felt very real. I could feel her cold skin against mine and the scent of ash wafted from her hair and clothes. She was shaking. "Sanctius, it's you, it's you."

"Yeah, it is," I said, my voice cracking. She pulled away but stayed in my arms. She cradled my face in her hands, gazing up at me.

"The last time I saw you, I had to look down. My heavens, how you've grown," she whispered. With her thumb, she wiped away one of my tears. I touched her hand and kissed her palm.

"I love you," I told her. I couldn't remember the last time I had.

She bit her lip. "You look like your father."

At that, I broke down. I wept, resting my head on her shoulder, while she kissed my cheek.

All this time Nero taunted me with the idea that my mother had been alive—and she really had been.