Roman Flames

Chapter Seventeen: Lover to Faust

Chapter Seventeen: Lover to Faust

Vespera

“Vespera, what on earth is wrong with you?” Terentia asked. I watched as she was trying on what she would wear on her wedding, which was approaching in two days. I must’ve been nodding off, or giving her a foul expression.

“I’m wondering the same exact thing,” I replied bitterly. I caught my reflection in the polished bronze mirror in my parents’ bedroom. I had dark circles under my eyes and a harsh expression.

“Be happy for your sister, Vespera,” my mother warned.

“I’m ecstatic,” I said flatly. “But I had a rough night. Sorry.”

“Did you slip too much wine at dinner?” my sister questioned.

“Sure,” I muttered.

“Oh, I have a cure for that. Drusilla!” Mother called for a servant. Drusilla, probably our most loyal servant, had been with us since Ignatius was a toddler.

“Yes?” Drusilla appeared at the door with her hands folded.

“Vespera is hung over. Would you help her?”

Drusilla nodded. “Yes, of course.” She hurried out of the room, and I dreaded what was coming next. I had overdrank once before in my life, and I swore I wouldn’t do it again, for fear of what would happen next.

After a few minutes of Mother and Terentia fussing over her dress, Drusilla came back with a wooden cup filled with the foulest concoction I had ever had the misfortune of drinking. She handed it to me and stared expectantly for me to drink it. Just one whiff and I was already gagging. I closed my eyes, pinched my nose, and downed the drink. To Sanctius, I thought acrimoniously. Were it not for him, I wouldn’t have to drink this gods-forsaken hangover cure.

I wiped my mouth and shuddered. “Much better,” I said weakly. Drusilla looked pleased with herself, and when I handed her back the cup, she left the room.

“Gods, I can’t believe you’re getting married,” Mother said.

“I have to go,” I said, clutching my stomach. I trudged out of the room, feeling sick, but not actually sick enough to vomit. I went up the stairs to my room and shut the door quietly, where I lied down on the bed, curled up on my side.

Terentia was getting married.

I was getting betrayed.

I didn’t understand why the gods had done this to me. What was wrong with me? Terentia always had the men chasing after her. None would give me a second glance. And finally, Sanctius hadn’t given Terentia a second glance, but…I suppose I wasn’t good enough.

I got up from my bed.

Stop it, Vespera. I swallowed back my feelings (and a little bit of bile). I couldn’t feel sorry for myself.

I grabbed the old tunic I had stolen from Ignatius and put it on. I didn’t need anyone’s approval. I was going to make my decisions. I didn’t care if I wasn’t good enough for anyone.

I threw on my cloak and started walking soundlessly down the stairs. The servants were probably off in the kitchen, but I was still very careful. I entered the servants’ quarters and left through that door, and a brisk breeze met me.

I felt like running. I wanted to run so hard that my feet would bleed and my hair would dishevel. The concoction in my stomach had something to say about that, but I didn’t listen.  

After I took a deep breath, I took off, my cloak billowing out behind me. The wind stung my eyes as my legs pounded the ground, but I didn’t care. I stopped caring.