Dusty roads. The clip-clop of mounted horsemen. The monotonous clack of carriages. A sharp jolt wakes me up. Groggily I open my eyes. I must've fallen asleep earlier. The first thing I see is a gaily dressed figure, Fatima I think her name was, my "maid" and gaoler. She's here as the maid of the Shahzadi, Persian for princess. That's me. Or that's who I'm supposed to be at least, Shahzadi Soraya, daughter of Shah Vologases V of Parthia.
Who am I really? My name is Aurelia Veneria, daughter of Titus Lucinius Maximus, the Equestrian Governor of Thracia. So yes, I suppose I could be considered Roman nobility. Of course, being the daughter of a noble, dad was all too eager to sell me off to gain political power, so I ran away. Thanks to my rather adventurous youth, I was able to volunteer for the Legions without much of a problem. There, in the newly raised Legio XIX Lux Aeterna, I found my calling as a soldier not a housewife. Unfortunately, my new life didn't last for long. A war broke out with the Parthians over Armenia shortly after I enlisted, and I found myself on the frontlines. Lux Aeterna fought bravely and valiantly, earning many accolades and honors including the vaunted addition of Parthicus (victorious over Parthia) to its name. But the army was betrayed. Someone sold us out and the Parthians ambushed us at Ctesiphon.
They fell upon us while we were crossing the Tigris and butchered us like pigs. I saw the Tigris turn red as it was stained with Roman blood. Three legions, well over 20,000 men, gone just like that. The survivors, numbering no more than a few hundred were dragged off into captivity as slaves. My comrades and I were paraded through the streets of Ecbatana, weighed down in golden chains. I could already picture how I would sell. "Come one! Come all! See this woman who masqueraded as a Roman soldier! Take her for yourself and see what it's like to break the finest of the Empire!"
It was an extraordinarily near affair. A Parthian courtier noticed I bore an uncanny resemblance to the Shah's beloved princess and upon discovering I was a woman, bought me before I could be sold to the barbarian masses. From there I was taken to the Shah, Vologases V. It turns out his favorite daughter, Soraya, was supposed to be wed off to a great empire far to the East in a few months. Unwilling to give her up, he decided it would be better to send me instead.
"Princess. Princess!" Fatima's crisp yet silken voice pierces through the tedious ensemble of sounds that come from our caravan.
"Mhm?"
"We are approaching the border city of Longmen." The foreign word rolls off her tongue with a lilt that betrays her inexperience with the language. Mouth and nose concealed behind semi-translucent citrus çarsef, she looks marvelously exotic, easily able to pass of as a princess herself. I sigh. A sigh that yearns for home. For sweet, cool breezes and the swaying trees of Constantinopolis; for the nostalgic smell of fresh bread and honey; for laughter and conversation in the melodies of Latin. Laying on my side, I prop my elbow up on a mountain of cushy pillows. The motion causes the golden bangles on my wrist to jingle, a beautiful sound rings out into a desert bereft of ears to hear it. The carriage grinds to a halt. We've arrived.
Çarsef - A veil worn by unmarried Parthian women for the purposes of modesty. Totally fictional I just think veils are a cool aesthetic :).
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The Foreign Empress
Historical FictionA cold and potentially fatal marriage, an imperial court embroiled in assassination and conflict, a hidden conspiracy that could shatter not just a four-century-long peace but the empire itself. In the midst of it all, a girl whose struggle to survi...
