ã€ŠNailing Your Dictatressã€‹


 Prologue

    The breeze rustled the blades of grass over the hill that overlooked a small village. Morning sunlight barely crossed the top to reach the people below. As the seconds passed, however, the distant rumble grew closer and closer on this day of clear, radiant skies.

    First to be seen over the top were the banners. Richly dyed gold, billowing in the wind, they depicted a great sun, framed top and bottom by Greek inscriptions. As the villagers below realized something was amiss, the most perceptive of them caught the first sight of glinting iron spears rising, until rows and rows of soldiers replaced the sun itself, casting a great shadow upon the land.

    Then, one woman on horseback rode to the front. Adorned head to toe in gilded armor, she steered her steed down before the battle lines of the army.

    ¡°My dearest, most favored women, who have stood with me since the very beginning.¡± She said, her voice thundering with supernatural force. ¡°Brave, noble women of Hellenes. The Phrygians, and the Lydians! Who have hungered¨Cwho have suffered underneath the rule of the barbarous Romans for ages, your stories untold.¡± Her oration echoed as the thousands and thousands of women stood in perfect silence. ¡°Liberation is at hand. The hour draws near, our arrows of vengeance nocked. Let it loose, your anger, your terrible fury.¡±

    She stopped, turning to face the village and the horizon behind it, where the true prize lay.

    ¡°And for our foes. Those, whose wretched tyranny had you, your children, and your husbands by the neck. I give not a drop of mercy. Go forth as your queen dictates and carve our sanguine poetry into the record of history!¡±

    The soldiers roared in agreement, enough that the ground shook with their cheers and cries. They clanged together their weapons, stomped their feet. Then, with savage screams, they flooded down the hill, soon followed by their comrades in armies all across the land.

    <hr>

    In 89 BCE, Queen Mithridates the Sixth of Pontus invaded Asia Minor, province of Rome.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

    Mania Aquillia, consul during 101 BCE and ambassador of Rome, marched her army from the west to meet the challenge. With the help of proconsul Quinta Oppia from the south, they attempted to pin the Pontus queen, only to realize they were grossly outnumbered five to one. Within the year, Mithridates defeated all three legions, wiped the fourth that was later raised, and then executed Mania Aquillia by pouring molten gold down her throat. Rome¡¯s authority in the region collapsed in totality, creating the crisis of the century a mere twelve years into it.

    To secure her victory, Mithridates declared a year later for all Italian residents to be put to the sword. Spouses, children, none were to be spared, and the streets of Asia Minor ran red with Italian blood. By the end of it, the historian Appian claimed that eighty thousand subjects of Rome were slaughtered.

    To history, these events would be known as the Asiatic Vespers.

    <hr>

    A tall woman cloaked in a white toga walked into a half-circular auditorium amidst the silent judgment of her similarly dressed audience. Bull horns peeked out from her red-blond hair, and her every step echoed with confidence. Her head was held high and her gaze undeterred, every moment commanding attention. Yet, for all her powerful stature and imposing nature, there was a hidden grace that elicited a sense of brutish beauty.

    ¡°Lucilia Cornelia Sulla Felicia,¡± gravely said the lone person at the focal center of the room, holding an opened scroll. ¡°Hero of the Marsic War. Co-consul of our year. By the orders of the Senate, you are to head east, crush the Pontus queen, and restore Rome¡¯s honor where so many have failed.¡±

    ¡°I accept this mandate.¡± Sulla¡¯s face was expressionless. Her words, firm and unyielding.

    She arrived to stand beside the earlier speaker and she turned to address the audience of her peers. ¡°Queen Mithridates, tyrant of Pontus, has found us sleeping on our vigil!¡± She declared with a thunderous voice. ¡°That ends now. Awaken your fury, women of Rome. Let your restless spirits hunger once more, as if Hannibal herself has landed once more on our shores. For every insult, we will pay them back tenfold! For each drop of Roman blood, we will spill a thousand! Remind them of the might of Rome!¡±

    The crowd roared in approval.

    Unbeknownst to most, slipped between the noise, there were whispers in the back. Promises were passed between them. Plans were made. And through their monumental decisions, the fate of the Roman Republic would not be decided in a war of vengeance in a distant land, but right here at the heart of the empire to come.

 Chapter 1

    You can try for it for decades. Push through every monotonous day, solve every complication that comes by. But I get it now. How could I find something I¡¯ve never known?

    <hr>

    Richard watched as a pair of really hot women walked by, draped in white curtains.

    Short black hair gleamed like polished obsidian, framing the first woman¡¯s delicate, but expressive facial features. Her smile was radiant and strangely mysterious as she entertained her companion, another woman of warm olive skin, a similar immaculate haircut, and comparable beauty.

    They weren¡¯t the only ones, and from what he could tell there were hundreds walking up and down the street¡ªonly a portion wearing the aforementioned curtains. Most wore tunics and sandals, some draped with cloaks. Some of them held woven baskets and they went from stand to stand, speaking to the owners who displayed their various goods. Nearby, he saw some selling pottery and others selling produce.

    It took him a moment to realize that he had been watching from his back, his head to the side. He was lying unceremoniously on the edge of a street in the shadow of a concrete, rudimentary building. That explained the slanted angle of his vision. His head pounded, wondering what the hell he had been up to last night to have woken up at the side of a gravel road in a bustling curtain marketplace. He sat up, muttering, patting off the rocks that stuck to his bare ass. Great, I¡¯m stripped naked again.

    Richard was a 5¡¯ 9¡± man with a very well-built physique. Wide shouldered, although not that tall, and below his shapely pecs was a six pack that showed both his dedication and genetic luck. Therefore, he wasn¡¯t unaccustomed to eyes turning to him, but half-naked in swim trunks was very different from his full package hanging out and about. He could only wince as he covered his privates.

    Huh? The action made him realize something very weird. Where¡¯s all my body hair?! What the fuck?! He glanced down at his muscled legs that used to be hairy. Instead, he was waxed like a Greek statue.

    He quickly scampered over to a nearby stand¨Cwhich sold what appeared to be oil in jars of various sizes, some as tall as half his height¨Crequesting something to cover himself up. With a furious blush, the woman at the stand gave him a towel, her wide eyes glancing downwards at his body every once in a while. Without his wallet, he couldn¡¯t even pay her, but when he mentioned it she turned him away. As he left, he heard her whisper under her breath that she had already been paid. Well, at least she¡¯s not angry about it.

    Wrapping the towel around his waist, he took a second to look around.

    Everyone was staring at him now. Every single one of the curtain enthusiasts.

    It didn¡¯t take him long to also realize almost every single person was a woman¡ªand very attractive ones at that. The ones he couldn¡¯t entirely discern wore some kind of shawls, covering their hair and partially hiding their faces, and were even shorter than the others. Everyone he could see had great skin, as if they were all skincare junkies. Others had scars on perfectly shaped faces, giving them a more wild charm rather than making them less pretty. It was unfortunate that they were wearing those ugly curtains and ill-fitting loose clothes.

    Slowly, their interest waned and the crowd went about their day.

    Then, he realized he might have woken up in some kind of all-women fabric convention and shame flushed up his cheeks. Less for his own situation and more for how uncomfortable he must have made everyone else feel.

    Profusely apologizing to no one in particular, he walked down the gravel road, doing his best to hunch over and hide himself as much as possible. The pain of the hangover was exacerbated by the bright sun, and he was certainly not having a good time.

    Whatever part of town he had woken up in, he recognized nothing. The roads were strange and rough, composed of large pieces of flat stones and then a layer of gravel and smaller rocks laid on top. They were also so narrow that with the stands, only a single car could fit through if the endless stream of people was excluded. The several stories tall buildings looked like they were made from painted-over brick and lumber, but he did not see a single window.

    The people around him tried to give him a large berth, but for reasons of congestion, were often forced back into his personal space. He gave them no mind, just seeing if he could find anything familiar at all. They smelled like sweat, hard work, and hints of perfume. And also so heavily of¡­ Olives?

    He jumped, his hand reaching behind himself where someone had groped him.

    Richard glanced around, trying to figure out the perpetrator, but the mass of women made it almost impossible to discern as they tried to get by in either direction.

    ¡­Okay? He was mostly confused more than anything. This situation was something he¡¯d never experienced. Maybe I¡¯ll give up finding where I am and just swallow my pride.

    ¡°Hey, uh,¡± He asked a random passerby. ¡°Where am I?¡±

    She didn¡¯t respond, nor did she even look at him.

    ¡°Uh¡­ Excuse ¨C!¡± He turned to a different one. ¡°May I ask where I am?!¡±

    This one did respond, telling him ¡®Rome¡¯, and then moving on. Many women stared at him, but then quickly averted their eyes.

    He scratched his head. Rome? A suburb maybe? They can¡¯t be talking about the city, that¡¯s across the ocean!

    ¡°Hey, uh, can I borrow your cell phone?¡± He called out to another. This one had black hair, and as she turned to him he was taken aback¨Cnot by her beautiful facial features like her small, cute nose and big, expressive eyes. Rather, it was the pair of cat ears popping out from the top of her head. He¡¯d thought they were normal hair ornaments of sorts from the other side. She looked very young, maybe in her midteens, but was surprisingly tall for her apparent age.

    ¡­Even historical re-enactments have their odd ones out¡­ He thought blankly as the ears even twitched, perhaps through small servos embedded in the headband.

    ¡°Cell phone?¡± She asked. ¡°What¡¯s that, stranger?¡± She weaved through the crowd to make her way to him.

    Richard frowned. There was something strange about the way she was speaking, now that he had time to process it. If he focused, he could hear the words almost twice, if it made sense, like a movie dub, but the two streams of spoken words did not conflict. She wasn¡¯t speaking English, but he was getting it. He touched his ears, searching for earbuds, but didn¡¯t find any. Was I implanted with an experimental chip?!

    She gave him a knowing look. ¡°...Is this a sales pitch? I¡¯m afraid I¡¯m not interested at the moment.¡±

    He slowly blinked in confusion, putting the matter of the mysterious translation aside for now. ¡°Interested¡­ Interested in what?¡±

    ¡°If you tell me which brothel and your name, on the other hand, perhaps I¡¯ll pass the information to my elders. You do look pretty cute.¡±

    He stared at her.

    There were no words to describe his absolute amazement at how ridiculous her words were, especially from someone so young.

    Whatever the Hell, this translator in my head must have broken!

    He chuckled. ¡°Ah, sorry, could you repeat that? I must have heard it incorrectly.¡±

    ¡°If you tell me which brothel and your name¡­¡±

    ¡°Are you seriously calling me an escort?¡±

    ¡°...Are you not?¡±

    His brain finally caught up. ¡°W-wait, I¡¯m not an escort! I¡¯m just lost¡­ I woke up like this!¡±

    The girl¡¯s eyes sharpened, the earlier amusement dissipating. ¡°You¡¯re saying you got assaulted?!¡±

    ¡°No, no!¡± He didn¡¯t think so.

    ¡°Then you are voluntarily walking unescorted and naked through the streets?¡±

    ¡°No! I just woke up, and then I was here!¡±

    ¡°You were stolen?¡± She raised an eyebrow.

    Abducted? I guess it¡¯s possible, and then¡­ I was forgotten? And why would they strip me naked, was I just plain robbed while drunk? He must have looked completely lost, as she sighed.

    She then started shrugging off her curtain. It took her a bit, especially since there wasn¡¯t much space at the edge of the street. The passing crowd of women made sure of that. ¡°Please, take this.¡± Beneath, she was wearing the strange, loose tunic that was secured around the waist by a belt.

    Taking the white fabric from her hands, he was surprised at the weight. It was quite hefty, almost like wearing an entire blanket.

    ¡°Thank you. I¡¯ll pay you back, do you have an e-mail for e-transfer?¡±

    She looked at him strangely. ¡°Take it for now. I do not have much in terms of money, but I hope you find your way home, stranger. I must be on my way now, if you¡¯ll excuse me.¡±

    And with that she left. He stared at the black tail that swayed behind her, before she quickly disappeared in the crowd. Okay, is that what they call a furry? He had no idea what was going on, be it a curtain convention, historical re-enactment, or a play. What a nice person though!

    He moved on, putting on the curtain in the same way she had¨Cor his best approximation at least. Maybe it¡¯s a toga?

    His headache had started to abate and slivers of memories came back to him. He had been walking out of the bar, last he recalled, even drunker than usual. It had been odd, as he recalled he had drunk far less than he could tolerate. Then, he remembered the bright headlights, screeching brakes, and car horns -

    Oh.

    He had been hit by a car?

    That wasn¡¯t all though, as the impact merely knocked him off his feet. He remembered a second set of screeching brakes as something barreled through him from behind.

    He had been hit by a car and a truck.

    His incredulousness grew as he realized his memories didn¡¯t end there.

    All this had been followed by a duration where he came in and out of consciousness before he could hear sirens. And then, as he was opening his eyes, lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood, his last, faded sight was of a police car¡­ That ran over him.

    That¡­ That must have been some kind of drunken dream, He thought numbly. It¡¯s one of those reincarnation situations, isn¡¯t it? He wanted to sit down. It didn¡¯t feel real to him, but the entire world around him felt too alien and too complicated for anyone to fake. And those cat ears must have been real, weren¡¯t they? His pounding head was the background before which his glacial thinking moved.

    He thought of what he was leaving behind. The skin around his eyes tightened. His fingers twitched. Good, I think.

    The memory fragments that felt slippery slowly coagulated as his hangover abated, giving him a little more detail on his predicament. He remembered talking to a goddess, all part of the regular reincarnation package.

    ¡°What kind of world?¡± He remembered hearing her ethereally beautiful voice.

    ¡°...a world¡­ full of hot babes!¡± He had answered. ¡°Horny hot women!¡±

    He froze.

    What the fuck.

    At eighteen years of age, Richard was certainly in the prime of his sexual maturity. However, he also had his rational side. Having prepared himself for engineering and in fact been accepted into his top choice for university, there was much he would want from a world other than ¡®hot babes¡¯. He was interested in many things, from physics to politics. There were items on his bucket list like exploring the Amazon rainforest, seeing the pyramids, and skydiving. A world of magitek, some steampunk would have all been in consideration far before his sexual impulses.

    But seriously? Hot women aren¡¯t even on the top 10 list! He sighed. Far too early for a new relationship, anyways. Not to mention¡­

    For a moment, he let his gaze fall to the floor. A turmoil of emotions tried to rise to the surface. In a swift, single instant, he crushed them. Well, whatever¡¯s done is done. Could have been a clerical error, this ¡®hot babes¡¯ world. I¡¯ll live this afterlife for what it is, anyways.

    His stomach grumbled.

    But first, food. As always, focus on what¡¯s right in front of you.

    <hr>

    Richard sat at the side of the now less busy roads, deep in thought.

    I¡¯m a hobo.

    He had no money, no job, no education, no skills that were accepted here. He had no idea how to weave and no idea how to homemake with their rudimentary tools. When he had gone and requested door to door for work, none of the women took him¨Cthough they did insinuate other things. Okay, there was one, but the owner made him very uncomfortable despite having the most angelic face. He¡¯d thought he could perhaps put his mathematical skills to use, but he hadn¡¯t been able to find anyone who currently needed it. Possible targets would be aristocrats and merchants, but the only people of that class he found were the standowners he talked to who just didn¡¯t need one right now. Probably because of the relative poorness of the current sector he was in, or perhaps even just luck. Now the sun was starting to fall, and he had only scraps that people were willing to donate to him to eat.

    There¡¯s no way I didn¡¯t consider this before the reincarnation. Why the hell didn¡¯t I say I wanted to reincarnate as a noble or something? Or someone rich? Instead, I seriously took ¡®hot women¡¯ as my first, and most important criteria?! He couldn¡¯t believe it. As he had said before, he was usually a rational man. It would have taken him to be seriously inebriated to make this kind of mistake. Let¡¯s just say I had no other choice¡­ Maybe the only good option was ¡®hot women¡¯.

    ¡°Hey, what¡¯s your price?¡±

    Startled by the sudden question, he looked up at a group of women that had stepped up to him while he was deep within his thoughts. The lead woman had a rugged kind of charm, distinct from the delicate allure of most women he had encountered that day. Towering among her companions, yet inches shy from his height, she had a bold sort of presence. The tunic she wore showed off her relatively brawny arms. Black wavy hair, shoulder length and cascading down like a waterfall.

    Why do they all think I¡¯m a prostitute?!

    One of the women stepped up straight into his personal space and took a deep sniff. He shifted back uncomfortably. ¡°He doesn¡¯t stink of shit and perfume.¡±

    ¡°Like you smell any better than them, ha!¡±

    They don¡¯t smell bad to me¡­?

    ¡°Oh, seriously? He doesn¡¯t stink? Luck¡¯s on our side. Hey, boy, what do you say about a bunch of tough, experienced soldiers like us?¡±

    Were they asking for me to fuck all of them?! His dick said yes. ¡°I¡­¡±

    A different woman grabbed his wrist and pulled him up with a roughness that almost made him trip. He yelped in pain as he his foot scraped against the gravel. ¡°Come on, he¡¯s an infames! They like it rough.¡±

    ¡°Wait, but¨C¡° He tried to say but her hand clamped around his mouth, then someone¡¯s hand reached between his legs.

    ¡°Oh! Fuck, he¡¯s already hard!¡±

    He struggled in her grip, but the way she held him made it difficult to extract himself without his full power.

    ¡°That¡¯s basically a yes, isn¡¯t it?¡±

    That¡¯s enough! He bit the hand holding him. The woman dropped him with a yelp and he quickly made some space. However, behind him was the wall, and the women had made a perfect enclosure around him.

    ¡°Fuck!¡± The woman he had bit swore. ¡°You fucking little shit.¡±

    He pressed himself against the wall. Disgust ran through him in a way he never thought he would experience. ¡°Don¡¯t come any closer. I¡¯ll call the police.¡±

    ¡°The who?¡± One of the women asked.

    A chill went down his spine. ¡°The guards!¡± He amended.

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    ¡°The guards from the ¡®police¡¯? Is that a powerful family?¡± One of the women asked the other.

    ¡°No, I haven¡¯t heard of them.¡±

    ¡°He must be bluffing. They would have sent at least somebody to escort him if they were.¡±

    They¡­ They don¡¯t have police officers here?! By the flow of the conversation, they must have known I was talking about a policing force, even if they weren¡¯t called the police!

    Not to mention¡­ I¡¯m not a citizen¡­ Am I even protected by the law at all?

    He clenched his fists. ¡°Don¡¯t come closer¡­ Because I¡¯ll deck you.¡± He had never felt so physically threatened in his life by women smaller than him.

    The women looked at him incredulously. Then, they burst into laughter. ¡°I told you they like it rough!¡±

    ¡°Shit, is this foreplay? A spicy one, aren¡¯t you?¡± Another chuckled.

    He gritted his teeth.

    The tall woman stepped up, reaching for his wrists again. This time, he was ready, and with all his strength stepped into a haymaker that sent her sprawling onto the ground. Taking the chance, he tried to run, but one of them grabbed the toga that he had wrapped around himself. He turned to rip it from her grasp, getting a glimpse of their furious faces.

    He could probably take two or three, but not all of them.

    ¡°Hey! What¡¯s going on here?¡± A familiar voice rang out.

    It was the catgirl.

    ¡°This fucking prostitute assaulted our friend!¡± One of the women yelled out, pointing a finger at him.

    ¡°Me?!¡± He yelled back in indignation. ¡°You tried to¨C¡° The words didn¡¯t come to him. ¡°You tried to¨C!¡± Or was it that he was ashamed to even say it?

    ¡°I am a citizen of Rome!¡± The woman cried, the one who had been downed. Her lip was bleeding as she stood back up. ¡°I¡¯ll have him killed for this!¡± Her wavy black hair and tunic now had dirt on them.

    He was seething with anger. How dare she¨C! But an arm from the catgirl stopped him. ¡°It¡¯ll just make it worse,¡± she whispered to him.

    Then, to the women, she said: ¡°I¡¯m afraid he¡¯s no scortum. He¡¯s my cousin, I just had to step off for a bit.¡±

    The women looked skeptical. ¡°...We had seen him around. I don¡¯t remember him ever with an escort.¡±

    The catgirl turned to look at the one he had punched. ¡°Would you take the chance, honorable soldier?¡±

    The aforementioned woman scowled at him. She opened her mouth, but then she raised a hand to touch her bloodied lip. She growled and spat. ¡°Forget it, this piece of trash isn¡¯t worth it.¡±

    He watched as they actually left.

    ¡°Thank you.¡± He whispered breathlessly to the catgirl. Then, he unwrapped his disheveled toga. ¡°Sorry, I got it dirty in the tussle.¡± He put it around her shoulders. It was getting chilly in the evening.

    He needed a person younger than him by a few years to save him. It didn¡¯t feel good.

    She frowned at his gesture. ¡°I don¡¯t need it, you are wearing almost nothing.¡±

    ¡°Yes, but¨C¡°

    ¡°No, no! It¡¯s weird for a man to offer me such a thing when you clearly need it.¡± She gave it back. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, there are too many people who see an unaccompanied man and immediately assume they are¡­ You know.¡±

    ¡°You assumed the same!¡±

    ¡°Yes, but you were mostly naked.¡±

    ¡°And that makes me a whore?!¡± He struggled to put it back on in the same manner as she wore it, with the toga draped over one shoulder and an arm, and then grabbing hold of it with his other hand.

    ¡°That¡¯s just how they ¡®dress¡¯.¡± She sighed, before taking notice of how he was wearing the toga. ¡°Did you wear it like this for the entire day?¡± Her tone was suddenly intense.

    ¡°Uh, yes¡­?¡±

    ¡°Why?!¡±

    ¡°You and everyone else wore it this way¨C¡°

    ¡°Because I¡¯m a woman! If a man wore it that way, that¡¯s again advertising your status as a¨Cyou know!¡±

    It was his turn to exclaim, ¡°Why?!¡±

    ¡°Because¨C¡° She pulled at her ears in frustration. ¡°Look, how are you so dense? Did you come from one of the barbarian tribes or something?¡±

    He actually had an answer this time. ¡°It turns out I really had been kidnapped from very far away. Your way of things is very¡­ alien to me.¡± He paused. This second meeting was a great chance for him to flip his fortunes. Perhaps he could get a job through her connections? He voiced his question.

    She winced. ¡°While I wouldn¡¯t be opposed, I do not think my mother would approve.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± He looked down at the toga wrapped around himself. A moment of thought later, he took it off and offered it back. ¡°I would hate to impose on you, then.¡±

    ¡°No, no,¡± she shook her head. ¡°If you were stolen from your homeland, then you must have hard times ahead.¡± Her ears on the top of her head drooped.

    ¡°Then, if I may ask, how much does this cost?¡± If he was really transported into the medieval world or something, then a white, heavy fabric like this could cost quite a bit.

    She looked askance. ¡°...A year¡¯s pay.¡±

    ¡°Excuse me?¡±

    ¡°B¨CBut that¡¯s why I gave it to you, you know? If you sell it, you¡¯ll be able to get a tunic and food for a bit¡­¡±

    ¡°I can¡¯t take a year¡¯s pay from another teenager!¡± He pushed it back into her hands. ¡°You¡¯re what, eleven?!¡±

    She looked affronted. ¡°I¡¯m not eleven! I¡¯m far older!¡±

    ¡°Thirteen?¡±

    ¡°...¡± She looked away. ¡°...A little younger.¡±

    So twelve. ¡°Look, just tell me if there¡¯s any social services¡­¡± He saw the confusion in her eyes as she met his gaze. ¡°Aw fuck, is there nothing in Rome?!¡± He thought it was one of the most advanced civilisations of the ancient world from what he heard! ¡°Look, I can at least do calculations. Maths. Is there no one you know that needs an accountant of sorts?¡±

    ¡°Oh!¡± Her eyes lit up. ¡°You can use an abacus?¡±

    Fuck. No, wait, as long as I can prove my skills, I should be fine? ¡°Of sorts.¡±

    ¡°And I assume you can read and write Latin?¡±

    He was about to say no. Can I read and write Latin? By luck, I can at least understand when it¡¯s spoken, but is there a chance that it may cover other linguistic dimensions too? How do I even check? I tell her I¡¯ll know as soon as I see a piece of writing. Not to mention how do I even activate the ability to write in Latin? It wasn¡¯t like there was a new language in my head, the translation is automatic!

    ¡°...Give me some other options, just in case.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ I heard some who fall on hard times would sell themselves into slavery¡­¡±

    ¡°What.¡± The more he listened the more he wondered if this was a dystopia. ¡°Is there literally nothing I can do with my human dignity intact?¡±

    ¡°I¡­ Suppose you could find yourself a matron¡­¡±

    ¡°You mean get a sugar mommy?¡± He flatly stared at her. ¡°I said with my dignity intact. Look, just¡­ Tell me where the government buildings are. I¡¯ll figure it out¡­ Somehow.¡± I¡¯ll probably be able to pick up some writing there and then I can check whether the translation applies to reading and writing. Additionally, it''s likely they have more of a use for scribes and accountants.

    She gave him a sad smile. ¡°Erm¡­ Good luck?¡± Her droopy ears made him want to pat her on the head, if he wasn¡¯t so disappointed with his current life. She pointed him in a direction.

    ¡°What¡¯s your name by the way?¡± He asked just before leaving.

    ¡°Gaia.¡±

    ¡°Mine is Richard, I¡¯ll see you!¡±

    Then, he ran off.

    Who would have thought a fucking world full of hot women was this fucking painful. He fumed as he walked. At this point, I might be happy to just respawn in my original world instead of stupid reincarnation.

    ¡­Am I?

    He considered the matter a bit more seriously as he continued his walk.

    It¡¯s not that I had been living the best life, or that I don¡¯t have complaints. Just when I thought I was finally out of that place, my girlfriend breaks up with me for no reason. Does that mean she was fed up with me and I had no idea?! At least tell me what the problem was! I was working a lot, requiring three jobs a week to keep the apartment we had. Did she feel neglected? He felt he knew her pretty well after two years of dating, at least enough that he¡¯d know if she wasn¡¯t happy with her life. But I suppose if I had been completely oblivious and maybe it wasn¡¯t the best relationship anyways.

    ¡­But still I had a future ahead of me. There¡¯s not just one girl in the world, and once I get my degree, I should have better job prospects. I¡¯ve got into a pretty good school if I¡¯d say so myself too. He¡¯d been looking forward to his uni life. Freedom, for once. Clubs, partying¡­ I had job opportunities and friends already, which makes the foundation for a good life¨Csomething far more important than beautiful ladies.

    For an eighteen-year-old like him, primary and secondary education had been his whole life. Now even that was gone.

    The hollowness that filled him struck up a fear unlike all others. He¡¯d been swept off his feet. His world turned upside down. Richard barely noticed that his walking turned into more of a zombie-like stumbling.

    I thought the afterlife was all about just rewards and all that. All I¡¯ve ever had in life was bullshit, and this is what I get? It¡¯s like whenever I get something good, something bad has to always happen!

    He pinched his nose. Stop that. Depressive thoughts have never helped you. There¡¯s always someone in a worse spot; imagine someone reincarnated in Rome without all the hot women! He snorted. Now that would be depressing. He steeled himself.

    Come on Richard, you¡¯ve gone through worse!

    He pushed on.

    At this point in the day, the crowd had shrunk to a trickle as the sunlight dimmed. He made sure to ignore anyone calling out to him and to stick to the outskirts as best he could, and soon enough, making very carefully sure that he wasn¡¯t caught by a bunch of women like he was last time.

    Women who are pretty and landmines¡­ what a combination.

    He tried to go in a straight line towards the direction the catgirl had pointed out, but as it turned out, many of the roads bent in strange ways or just decided to randomly finish with a dead end. He certainly had words to say to the urban planners of this city, and at this point, his opinion of Roman officials was lower than low. At least do something right, holy shit!

    As he turned around a corner though, a whole bunch of women rushed at him. This group notably all wore a pure white toga of the finest quality he had seen yet, with several having a single deep purple stripe. He stepped back into the street he came from, but the women from the pouring crowd also split into his street.

    ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± He called out at them.

    He only heard one word in the fervor as they pushed past him. ¡°Sulpicia¨C!¡± The fear in their eyes of these women convinced him quickly to follow them. Whatever that was behind them, he didn¡¯t want to know, especially when he started hearing the shouts and clangs of steel.

    Not slowed down by their heavy toga, Richard easily burst ahead of the group. This turned out to be a mistake, as numerous women with wooden sticks stepped out from around a corner, blocking his path. He quickly made a sharp left turn.

    Only to immediately collide with a wall of steel and fall on his ass.

    As he nursed his jaw, he realized the wall then ran past him. It wasn¡¯t a wall, it was a woman, and boy was she tall. Heads taller than he was, and as she shed her own toga with the purple stripe, he saw that she was built like a tank. Despite the muscles being classically masculine, the way she was sculpted was more beautiful than any carving.

    Then, his eyes went to the pair of horns sticking out from her head of luscious red-blond hair.

    ¡°After her!¡± Another regiment of armed women appeared before him, rounding the corner at the end of the street.

    There was a moment of surprise as both he and the woman leading the regiment recognized each other, torchlight illuminating their faces. She had been the one he punched and humiliated, the one with the soldier build.

    A smirk appeared on her face. ¡°And the prostitute!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a prostitute!¡±

    The army of women charged, shouting.

    That¡¯s a fucking stupid coincidence! He scrambled to his feet and bolted back down the gravel road where he came. In his haste, he slipped on the tiles, slamming onto the ground. He swore, knowing his clumsiness gave the women behind him ample time to catch up.

    In the uproar, he only realized the bull-woman had appeared back before him when her hand was extended to him. He looked up into her ashen eyes.

    Oh. That¡¯s a good face. She looked young, maybe in her mid-thirties at most.

    He grabbed the hand. She dragged him to his feet with so much strength he thought his arm was going to be ripped from its socket and then they then broke back into a sprint in one smooth movement.

    ¡°Wait, there¡¯s more people down there too!¡± He called out in warning.

    The woman only growled, her voice far deeper than anything he¡¯d heard today. ¡°So be it.¡±

    Armed women closed off the exit, pointing their spears at the approaching duo. As Richard slowed down though, the tank of a woman sped up, bringing a staff he hadn¡¯t noticed her carrying to bear. She smashed the weapons aside with her staff, fracturing almost a dozen weapons with a single, brutish swing, before slamming shoulder first into the formation and shattering it. Women tumbled to the ground like bowling pins, and she pushed on. Such was the confusion left in her wake that Richard ran past the remaining guardswomen unmolested.

    ¡°Hey! Why are you running?¡± He asked.

    ¡°Sulpicia.¡± She grunted.

    ¡°Who?¡±

    She didn¡¯t answer, only focused on the sprint.

    They weaved in and out of alleys, so many that it made him lose direction completely. Still, despite their best efforts, he could very well see the armed women catching up. The bull-woman was not that fast and had started lagging behind, and he, while fit, wasn¡¯t a long-distance runner and was starting to get exhausted by the chase.

    Then, they burst onto the scene of a very familiar market street.

    Rushing down it, they found the standowners already packing up their goods. Those who had set up carts rather than permanent stands had already left, would be lucky, as the incoming wave of guardswomen cared little for property damage by the sounds behind him. A quick glance behind him confirmed what he guessed and that the enemies to be far closer than he thought.

    There had to be some way to slow them down¡­ His eyes scoured the stands around him, seeing if there was anything he could use. There! Aha!

    Running up to the stand, he grabbed one of the pots of oil and heaved it onto the ground. It shattered on impact, gooping up a small portion of the gravel. It was far less than he had hoped.

    ¡°My oil!¡± The woman who owned it cried, and as he turned to her, there was a pang in his heart as he recognized her to be the one who gave him the towel at the beginning of the day.

    ¡°S¨CSorry.¡± He could only say. The way the woman looked more hurt than angry made him feel worse.

    But then, the bull-woman arrived beside him and grabbed as many huge, decorated jars as she could carry, then tossed them at their pursuers. Those who were hit directly by the salvo immediately were downed, while the oil splatter caused great chaos as the women who stepped onto them slipped and fell. Then, the women who were running behind them had no time to stop and further contributed to the well-lubed dogpile as they tumbled into the mess.

    ¡°My oil¡­¡± She whispered sadly, somehow still heard by Richard through the cacophony of the shouts and screams.

    The bull-woman grabbed one of the pouches on her belt, clinking with coins, and thrust it over the counter and into the woman¡¯s stomach in her rush like a punch in the gut. As the standowner doubled over in pain, the bull-woman grabbed Richard¡¯s shoulder to drag him back to their escape.

    ¡°My stomach¡­¡± The standowner moaned miserably.

    He couldn¡¯t get a word in with how fast he was expedited out of there and down the street.

    His mind could barely follow the action. Thoughts of if he should even follow this strange horned woman crossed his mind as they continued their mad dash, especially as he slowed down in order to let her lead. He had no idea of this Sulpicia, he had no idea of their conflict¨Cthough the fact that the soldier woman was on the opposite side did make it more tempting to stay on his current course.

    And the standowner he had just callously destroyed the livelihood of¡­ It certainly didn¡¯t feel good either. He had just experienced the fear of homelessness and he would not wish it upon someone who had only been kind to him.

    ¡°Sorry!¡± He called back.

    ¡°Watch out!¡± The bull-woman barked.

    He snapped his head back forward to see two rampaging horses blasting out from a sidestreet towards him. They dragged a cart full of barrels, atop which there was no driver in sight. He dug his heel in, trying to stop himself, but then the crazed animals decided to turn in his direction. Amid the shrieks of the civilians around him, the kicked up dirt and panic, there was only one thought in his mind.

    Again?!

    Then, a pair of thick, incredibly muscular arms clamped themselves around his waist and then tossed him eighty feet in the air.

    He blinked, in flight.

    From up there, he saw Rome for what it was: a sprawling metropolis at the height of its power and influence, stretching out towards the horizon where the setting sun was hiding. Atop of hills he saw marvelous, colorful temples and homes decorated with vibrant paint, shaded in an orange hue due to the twilight. The vision of grandeur before him stopped his breath, stilled his mind. Here it was, the contemporary undisputed master of the Mediterranean.

    After the second that felt like an eternity in the sky above, he started falling.

    His stomach dropped and he floundered, attempting to grab a hold of something¨Canything. All that did was tilt him backwards a little. Fuck! Landing on my back is way worse! However, there was nothing he could do as he accelerated towards the ground. He squeezed his eyes shut in reflex, and then braced for impact, curling up into a fetal position to protect his head.

    Pompf.

    Someone caught him.

    Opening his eyes in confusion, he found himself in the arms of the bull-woman. She was still charging down the street at breakneck speeds, her full focus on the sprint.

    Oh, thank god¨CHe took a sigh of relief. Then he stiffened. No, wait, what the hell?! This doesn¡¯t make an ounce of sense! Even three stories is enough to cause injuries and I fell from far higher than that!

    He scrambled a little bit to feel around underneath him, struggling to process how he survived such a thing. It wasn¡¯t like being caught improved the odds¨Call it meant was that the risk was then split among two people. At the height he fell from, that meant two human pancakes. What, is she equipped with airbags?! Not even airbags can¨C

    It took another second for his mind to process the softness underneath his touch and realize that whatever answer his hand gave to him would all be bad. Those are some absolutely MASSIVE boobs¨CHis gaze which had been unfocused due to his busy thoughts drifted to meet the woman¡¯s eyes.

    He flinched at how cold her ashen eyes were. ¡°You¡¯re going to fall.¡± She grunted simply. Her expression, carved and stiff as concrete.

    He felt his cheeks flush at his stupidity. ¡°S¨Csorry¨C¡°

    She readjusted her grip. Thinking she was about to let him down, he swung his legs down, only to have her catch them and then bring him close to her, this time with one of her arms around the back of his shins and the other around his back.

    Eeeeh?!

    His mental thoughts turned to disarray as he was pressed against what was certainly her breasts. He couldn¡¯t tell visually due to the loose-fitting tunic, but as he tried to adjust his position to not be so incriminating, her grip tightened and almost flattened him against her. That¡¯s when he realized a certain oddity, on how he swore he felt a pair of softness against him both against his chest and against his stomach. Two pairs, so four in total.

    Don¡¯t tell me she has four boobs?! It feels great! It feels awesome! It feels¡­ Not actually that soft. Firm? It¡¯s really firm, to be honest. Far from as firm as the muscles of her arms that are wrapped around me, but firmer than I thought. Are they bound?

    ¡°W-wait, I¡¯m fine now.¡± He forced himself to stop thinking about boobs, a little annoyed at himself. She had saved his life after all, it would be a disservice to continue his train of thought. ¡°I can run, I don¡¯t want to slow you down.¡±

    She grunted. ¡°It''s fine. You weigh like a feather.¡±

    He stared at her. He wasn¡¯t sure how to feel.

    ¡°Hm?¡± She suddenly grunted and she stopped before one of the houses. From the outside, it was extremely plain and composed of a wall two stories high and the door. This was the only section that had very plain decorations, though all of the buildings on this street had no windows.

    Someone had already opened the door, and the two women¡¯s gazes met. The pursuers were far back, completely out of sight and earshot.

    ¡°Don¡¯t just stand there, come in.¡± The other woman rudely said. Richard couldn¡¯t see her well due to the backlight. ¡°We¡¯ll discuss inside.¡±

    The bull-woman entered, still carrying Richard like a sack of potatoes. The door closed behind them.

 Chapter 2 Part 1

    Richard stared.

    Having discovered he had been sent after death to a fucked up version of Rome, he had expected a certain way for everything to be. From the streets, to the people¡¯s attire, and also the housing, he had expected something worthy of the 2000 year gap between his modern day lifestyle and the Roman ways.

    What he got was a lovely tiled entryway. Further inwards, he saw a small square pond with a fountain as the centerpiece, and even marble columns placed at the four corners. The walls were lined with paintings and mosaics of unknown figures, and there were also statues so realistic they could be petrified people. Light entered from an opening in the ceiling, right above the pond¨Can odd choice he thought, as it would cause whatever dirt that was on the roof tiles to be washed into the house.

    The bull-woman put him down. ¡°You have my gratitude, Crassa.¡± She said to their savior. Without having to carry him, she was now able to hold her staff in a more dignified fashion. Now that he had a moment, he realized he had missed how it was actually just a bundle of long sticks secured together.

    Seriously? Just sticks?

    The woman named ¡®Crassa¡¯ was similarly aged as his companion, but could be described as the polar opposite. She was short enough he wondered if he was even five feet tall. She had a lithe skinny build that was obvious despite her loose tunic. Her snow white hair stopped just below the shoulders, so straight that one could think it was machine pressed. The high quality material and designs of her tunic clearly designated her as someone of some status. However, she had no animal traits, which Richard previously noticed only certain people had.

    ¡°I see you have made a decision?¡± The bull-woman continued.

    ¡°Sulpicia¡¯s recent actions preventing you from heading east are a disgrace to our traditions. She has crossed a line she shouldn¡¯t have in more ways than one.¡± Crassa answered. She motioned for a few servants and they brought clothing for the two. Richard made sure to let the servants dress him, watching as they fitted with him a tight-fitting tunic, and then a second looser one that was richly dyed blue. The look was finished off with a pretty, embroidered, green cord to tie around his waist. There was quite a bit of fumbling on his end, but he hoped it wasn¡¯t too apparent that might make them suspicious.

    The bull-woman, now unfortunately better dressed again in a white toga, held her gaze on Crassa for a few seconds longer than necessary.

    ¡°And who is your companion, Sulla?¡± Crassa asked.

    Sulla turned to him with her gaze, as intense as ever. He felt like he was withering. As expected from someone with bullhorns, he supposed. Intimidating as if stared down by an actual one. ¡°A client of a client, I assumed. He was being chased by Sulpicia¡¯s women. Introduce yourself.¡± Her voice had a militaristic undertone.

    Was she really thirty? She sounds so damn experienced.

    ¡°Richard Williams.¡± He replied instantly at her command in reflex, before he considered his situation a little more. His experience yesterday told him that his gender and citizenship status had mattered greatly. If he outed himself as a nobody, who knows how they would treat him? ¡°I¡¯m the learned son of a merchant, a traveler. I came from far away, until I was caught by slavers. I was able to free myself before being sold, but as you see, I¡¯m lost in a distant land.¡±

    He furiously tried to scrape up anything he could bring to the table. He wasn¡¯t about to let them do as they liked¨Cwho knows what kind of twisted society the Romans had. His experience earlier today was fresh on his mind, and he knew he never wanted to experience that again.

    But to be able to tell what he could bring to the table, he also needed to know what they could want.

    ¡°And who do I have the pleasure of meeting?¡± He motioned to the two of them.

    ¡°I am Publia Licinia Crassa. This is Lucilia Cornelia Sulla Felicia.¡± Crassa introduced the bull-woman. ¡°One of our two consuls for the year.¡±

    ¡°Consuls?¡±

    ¡°The office of the highest magistracy.¡± Crassa answered. ¡°They hold imperium over all of the Roman Republic¡± Despite answering his question, Richard noticed a certain way she spoke, like she was just indulging him.

    Wow! And at such a young age! Like a president? But she did mention an ¡®imperium¡¯, though. A republic with a monarch? ¡°Oh, like a queen?¡± Or emperor.

    It was a testament to Richard¡¯s skill that once he said his meager line, the civility in the conversation completely disappeared. Instead, a hidden tension started coiling like a spring in the background, as the two women silently watched him.

    He didn¡¯t think that a bull would be able to hide her anger so well.

    ¡°Rome¡­¡± Crassa finally said. ¡°Would never again accept a monarch.¡±

    The sheer gravity in her tone made him flinch.

    ¡°Crassa,¡± the bull-woman stated. ¡°Excuse him, he is after all, a stranger to these lands.¡±

    I¡¯ve already made a fucking mistake. He cursed himself, but how was he supposed to know such a landmine existed? Now I also look like an uncultured buffoon.

    ¡°Curious, learned stranger, from where do you hail?¡± Crassa asked. ¡°It must be somewhere of great distance if you did not know that ever since we deposed Tarquin, last of Roman queens, no monarch will ever set foot within the pomerium of Rome as long as the republic still stands?¡± How she was able to display her hostility without any significant physical action and with her diminutive height astounded him. With his position as weak as ever, her every word was like a crack on the thin ice he was standing on.

    His mind went blank. Many thoughts came to him¨Che did come from a more advanced age after all. Perhaps I could show off my mathematics? I had just graduated from high school, so calculus was still fresh in my mind and I¡¯m pretty sure that it was invented in the 1500¡¯s. He could also talk some science, but he quickly remembered that science was all about peer review and theories, and experimentation. The point was to convince other scientists of my theories, otherwise they¡¯d just think I was crazy. He also wondered if he could use his knowledge of geography. Did the Romans already know the world was round? No, just telling them the world was round without proof did little. What about the New World? Again, it wasn¡¯t like I had proof. Maybe the answer was mathematics¡­

    But nothing came out of his mouth. He felt his cheeks warm up, red from embarrassment.

    ¡°It''s been a while since I¡¯ve met your family, Crassa.¡± Sulla interrupted. ¡°How have your daughters been?¡± She put a hand around the host¡¯s shoulders and guided her deeper in the house.

    He did not want to get bailed out by Sulla again. ¡°I¨C!¡± Richard blurted out.

    The two stopped, turning back to him. The bull-woman had a stoic almost-smile, while Crassa gave him a look of barely hidden contempt.

    ¡°I come from across the Atlantic ocean!¡±

    The reply to his reply was stunned silence.

    He had no idea how that made anything better, but he wanted to get any kind of words in. All that did was dig him into a deeper hole.

    Crassa burst into laughter. ¡°And quite the comedian! Does he wish to be an actor?¡±

    Sulla hummed deeply. ¡°You¡¯re putting him on the spot.¡±

    Humiliated, he followed them as they moved on. He pushed down his useless feelings of indignation, focusing more on waiting for another chance to distinguish himself. If he lashed out here, there was no benefit, so he kept his shaking fist behind himself. His ego could wait.

    ¡°Greetings, consul Sulla,¡± addressed the woman that greeted them deeper within the house. She had most of her hair put up elaborately into a vertical, curly arrangement, leaving the rest to drape at each side of her face and down to her chest. Her head was tilted slightly forward and her hands clasped over her stomach. ¡°My appreciation for your contributions in the Marsic War; all of Rome stands in awe.¡± Unlike the other women, on top of her tunic she wore a sleeveless, long flowing garment that was tied around the waist by an elegant cord.

    Richard had been stunned by the beauty every single woman in this world held. It seems like everyone started at ¡®pretty¡¯, and then it was only upwards from there. Therefore, existences like this new woman become the new standouts, people who were good looking but not to the supernatural degree everyone else had. The pale skinned women already had clear skin, fair eyes, and the most luscious of hair, so it was hard to word how it was possible for the other women to be head and shoulders above that.

    The horned woman answered her stoically. ¡°It was my duty. But first, I must mobilize my women. Crassa, let¡¯s retire to your office. Lend me some parchment..¡±

    ¡°As you request,¡± Crassa stepped forward and much to Richard¡¯s surprise, the reserved woman gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She then turned to Richard. ¡°Wait here, Rikard.¡± That¡¯s not how you say my name. ¡°My husband will entertain you.¡± Then, she left with the consul, deeper into the house.

    Husband?! Now that Richard looked more closely¡­ he could still not tell that it wasn¡¯t a woman. The long locks of hair he didn¡¯t put up hid the areas where a man¡¯s sharper features would be, and his thin long fingers were, well, woman-like. Unlike Richard¡¯s masculine figure, this ¡®man¡¯ was effeminate to a degree that even now that he knew it to be a man, he still couldn¡¯t tell. Or perhaps he¡¯s not a man, just has the ¡®title¡¯ of husband? Not like I¡¯ve seen children¡­

    Or, well, obviously this isn¡¯t a perfect recreation of the Roman¡­ Roman Republic, from what they were saying earlier. So perhaps the women here can reproduce asexually like fungus. He internally chuckled, a small breadth of levity despite his current precarious position.

    ¡°Be well.¡± The ¡®man¡¯ greeted him. ¡°I am Venuleius, husband of Crassa.¡± Even his voice was feminine. Richard really doubted a person like that could have a penis.

    He blinked in surprise as his mind caught a detail. He just has one name? Everyone else had three or more, like Sulla.

    On the other hand, Sulla and Crassa, were all women of work. Sulla was as mentioned built like a ¡®brick shithouse¡¯ as they say; Crassa, one of those women who often frequented the gym, but not vigorously to qualify for the ¡®body builder¡¯ title¨Cand sheesh, wasn¡¯t that very attractive. If only this was porn world¡­ He shook his head. I need to stop thinking about fucking all these pretty women and actually get some way to earn a livelihood! I don¡¯t want to imagine having to be a prostitute and fuck all these pretty women!

    He paused.

    No, no, no. He hurriedly shook his head. It wouldn¡¯t be just fucking hot women. I already know that whores aren¡¯t protected by the law and can be treated horribly without repercussions. Also, STD¡¯s probably exist, instant boner killers. I¡¯m not going to throw away my life just to fuck some hot girls, even if I know some people who would.

    After all, only if I¡¯m alive and well can I fuck even more hot women. It¡¯s simply elementary math. My health¨Cand sexual stamina¨Cmust be a priority in order for me to have more sex!

    His eyes twitched.

    Shut the fuck up, you dick, dick, you¡¯re going to get me killed!

    He was distracted from making deep philosophical progress on the meaning of a man¡¯s life when Venuleius called on him. His pronunciation of the ¡®ch¡¯ part of Richard¡¯s name was suspect, but at the very least it sounded like he was trying, unlike Crassa.

    ¡°Sorry, a lot on my mind. I¡¯m¡­ very far from home, you see. Everything¡¯s strange.¡±

    ¡°I apologize for my wife, I hope she didn¡¯t offend you.¡± He sounded sincere.

    ¡°No, no¡­¡± She did, but I also understand why I¡¯m suspicious. ¡°I¡¯m just¡­ not sure what I should do now.¡±

    The goddess, whoever she was, had tricked him into a world of unfortunately realistic workings, despite being filled with attractive members of the opposite sex. Filled with women seemed to be the extent of the benefits¨Ceverything else sucked just as much as it probably had thousands of years ago. It could be called a world of extreme blue-balling, as it wasn¡¯t like he could just go up and randomly ask for sex without real consequences like seeming like a whore, with all the societal stigma that was attached to such a thing.

    Damn that goddess! Why the hell did she take my drunken rambling half-seriously?! And why the hell was I even drunk in the afterlife still?! I bet she was just insulted by my behavior and punished me with this!

    But I¡¯m here now. Nothing I can do.

    Should I just treat this as a second lease on life? Get a better job, work harder, go through all the usual motions? Seems like that¡¯s all I have.

    ¡°It must be hard.¡± Venuleius said, her¨Chis concern showing clearly on his face framed by a soft jawline and slender neck. ¡°Are your mothers, sisters, or wives still alive?¡±

    Richard instinctively flinched, but didn¡¯t spill his hand, keeping his feelings in. ¡°Yes, back home.¡± In the other world. ¡°They couldn¡¯t come with me. Not on this journey, with how dangerous it would be.¡± As in literally dying.

    Thinking of them brought him mixed feelings he wasn¡¯t ready to deal with yet.

    ¡°You came across Oceanus by yourself, I heard? Your nation is quite odd, allowing a man to do such a thing.¡±

    ¡°Well, for me, it''s your culture that¡¯s strange. Back where I come from, we have no such discriminations¡­ in this way.¡± With the sheer number of women in this world and combined with their physiological differences, Richard noticed a strange mixup of the traditional gender roles. The women seemed like they had more power here and were the soldiers and head of households, from what he could tell from Crassa¡¯ attitude. The men, on the other hand, seemed more feminine and restricted. He assumed it was the kind of ¡®the women worked, the men tended to the house¡¯ kind of thing. If there¡¯s less men, men as general become more valuable. Women, in comparison, are then also more¡­ expendable, so perhaps that¡¯s why they¡¯re the soldiers in this realm. Calling people ¡®expendable¡¯ irked him, but it seemed like the right word to use.

    ¡°I can¡¯t imagine the average woman willing to put their husband into such a danger.¡± Venuleius said. ¡°I don¡¯t think our ships can cross Oceanus, however.¡± Venuleius sighed. ¡°You must have strong ships if you can make it here.¡±

    The other man didn¡¯t look entirely convinced about Richard¡¯s story, but technically, he wasn¡¯t lying¡­ just not correcting Venuleius on the details. ¡°Wasn¡¯t strong enough.¡± He shrugged.

    ¡°Unfortunate, so you¡¯re stranded for the foreseeable future? I hoped to see this strange nation of yours. Men can be sailors and move about on dangerous journeys by their lonesome?¡±

    ¡°And be doctors, fight wars.¡±

    Venuleius giggled softly, a noise Richard found absolutely clashing. ¡°Really? Men can¡¯t do that.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    He blinked. ¡°Well, it¡¯s just not done. Political matters are not compatible with manhood, and may even destabilize the social order. In the same way as women don¡¯t have the compassion or sense to raise children and keep the home in a good state¨Ccan you imagine a woman¡¯s touch at home decor¨Ca man does not have the rigor for the harshness of public life.¡±

    Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    Richard stared at him. The dissonance was striking, enough that his mind had difficulty wrapping around everything he had said.

    ¡°But you, well¡­ You¡¯re quite¡­¡± Venuleius looked him up and down. ¡°Athletic.¡±

    ¡°Very¡­ feminine, you mean?¡±

    Venuleius nodded.

    Trying to wrap his mind around the flipped terms, Richard realized that with his figure, his classical masculine traits¨Cbroad shoulders, muscle definition¨Cwould have looked odd to these Romans. In this world, it would be the women who were supposed to have them. The broad shoulders, however, seemed to be a trait none of the genders had. Therefore¡­

    Am I this weird world¡¯s version of a tomboy?

    He pinched the rim of his nose. A headache felt like it was coming on.

    ¡°Does that mean you received a woman¡¯s education growing up?¡± Venuleius further asked.

    ¡°Well, yes. I was going to be an engineer, before my ill-fated trip.¡±

    His eyes widened in surprise. ¡°A man! Working as an engineer! No, is that not outrageous?¡±

    Richard had been paying close attention to the conversation, but it was at this point that he seriously considered that the conversation might become a lot more useful. Yes, he wasn¡¯t able to create a favorable impression with Crassa, but he seemed to click with her husband. Perhaps Venuleius could put in a favorable word with his wife? ¡°Yes, I was taught in physics, chemistry, and the mathematics, including calculus and vector algebra.¡±

    At this time, what level of knowledge did they have, even? Could there be a chance I could count as a genius here? Hope fluttered to life in Richard¡¯s chest. Could this be my way to a life of luxury and women?

    ¡°Oh, my! In what ways?¡± She¨Che seemed to care a lot about this matter, oddly, and it didn¡¯t feel to Richard like mere politeness.

    ¡°Well, physics¨Cthe three Newtonian laws. Chemistry, like such things like chemical bonds, acids and bases. Mathematics¨Cquadratic functions, probabilities¡­¡± He listed them out. Perhaps I can get that desk job I was hoping for before? Maybe they need a clerk?

    The man inquired further about his knowledges and Richard went into further depth. He was a good student in high school and had greatly mastered the material. However, it looked like some of the terms were difficult and not as easily translatable as ¡®Atlantic ocean¡¯.

    Which was weird, as to Richard, it sounded like they were generally speaking English if he didn¡¯t focus on the ¡®original¡¯ speech that was still audible beneath the translator in his head.

    Finally, upon Venuleius¡¯ questions on calculus, Richard explained to him the concept of the derivative: an instantaneous rate of change of a function. Richard, who had been given a wax tablet and pointed stick sketched out with a little difficulty what he meant. Richard didn¡¯t miss how Venuleius¡¯ eyes focused intensely on the drawing, before his usual smile came back.

    ¡°How very interesting. I¡¯m afraid that this is far beyond me. I¡¯m sure my wife would be happy to see it later, however.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s all I ask.¡± Richard hoped something would come from this. At least give me something similar, even if you leave actual engineering to women only. I just don¡¯t want those years of effort to be for nothing. He didn¡¯t keep his hopes too high, this world having disappointed him so many times since arriving. Indignation fluttered to the surface, but he swallowed it as best he could.

    At this point in the conversation, Crassa approached them from deeper within the house.

    ¡°Publia!¡± The husband called to his wife. ¡°We were just discussing mathematics.¡±

    Crassa crossed her arms underneath her chest. ¡°I¡¯m sure.¡±

    Richard felt his heart sink. He didn¡¯t want to make any enemies, especially off what was a misunderstanding. Despite her being predisposed to think less of him, he wished to turn that around. Who knows how closely she was linked to Sulla, and he certainly wished to take advantage of the consul¡¯s higher opinion of him. He knew how shaky his position currently was¨Che literally had nothing to his name and no social safety net to save him.

    Also, that is quite the impressive bust for her height. I want to be friends with it.

    He paused.

    With her. Friends with her.

    ¡°Yes!¡± He jumped on the chance. ¡°I¡¯m not sure how your mathematics differ, but this is part of ours. We have the concept of the derivative. Let¡¯s take the example of a function¡­¡±

    He drew out a curved line.

    He frowned.

    He pressed on the wax to flatten it once more, erasing his drawing, then drew another curved line. He glanced at Crassa, then glanced back. Okay, this function describes the theoretical curve of her underboob more exactly.

    ¡°Take the function y equals one tenth x squared.¡± He explained. ¡°Suppose we are looking for the instantaneous change at where x is equal to 37. We can take the derivative, which is 2/10 x, then fill in the 37. Then, we know that the slope at exactly x=37 is 74/10, simplified into 37/5.¡± He wrote each step on the wax tablet, holding it up to show her as he explained.

    ¡°...A function?¡± The woman looked at him with skepticism.

    ¡°Uh, yes¨Cyou know, y = f(x), that kind of thing. Describing the line.¡±

    The intense way the woman looked at him made him shift. Then, after a short silence, she turned to another woman, standing at the far side. ¡°Bring two abacus.¡±

    Abacus? What¨Cwait, the bead things?! How the fuck would I know how to use them?!

    The servant brought what was requested, each a metal plate with grooves and beads placed on the grooves. Richard rejected his abacus and stuck with the tablet. It wasn¡¯t as easy as to write as on paper, but it would do.

    The first task of a large number addition. 11439 + 558. The problem was written down on another wax tablet and luckily he understood the roman numerals by just looking at them, through whatever power he had that allowed him to understand their language. Once the problem was revealed, they instantly went to work.

    She handley beat him, much to his shock.

    They tried three more addition problems, and she beat him every time.

    A fluke? Or were abacus¡¯ just that strong? I never needed to do these fast, I had calculators! He bit his lip. No wonder there''re still people learning this in the modern day. If I exclude arithmetics, then I¡¯d be only left with advanced theory¨CI need to turn this loss back. ¡°My apologies, I¡¯m not as well versed in basic arithmetics. However, linear algebra, calculus, and¨C¡°

    ¡°Describing lines?¡± Crassa raised an eyebrow. ¡°We have no need for describing lines.¡±

    His jaw tightened.

    ¡°I assure you that we care for more useful matters.¡± The snideness in her voice pissed him off.

    Venuleius gave the woman a look, and Crassa looked away for a second.

    How dare she¨CShe¡¯s the country bumpkin here! ¡®Describing lines¡¯ is how we built towers that touch the sky, create machines that can take us to the fucking moon, and produce mountains of food to feed the ever growing global population! His agitation made his fist turn white around the pen¨Ctechnically just a stick.

    This wasn¡¯t just a math quiz, this could very much decide his life. The difference between sleeping outside and getting fucked by thieves¨Cin the bad way. Think! Think! His eyes shifted from Crassa¡¯ bored tapping, to Venuleius¡¯ focused gaze on him. When he saw him looking, the older, yet more effeminate man gave Richard a smile.

    You know¡­ He suddenly thought. Who¡¯s to say that abacus is good for all arithmetic operations equally? ¡°I see your prowess in addition, but¨C¡±

    ¡°Good to know you are not blind.¡±

    ¡°But what about division?¡± Out of the four basic arithmetics, division is learned last in elementary school. He had no idea if it could be the break he needed, but he was very willing to try. His eyes, carefully gazing at her, saw not a flinch. A flash of nervousness hit him.

    The servant woman wrote down another problem, calculated it herself first, and then it was time to decide his worth.

    Every clink of Crassa¡¯s rapid movements stressed him out further. There was a ruthless calm to her every motion, and if his fate wasn¡¯t decided on it he would have found it appealing. But, as the seconds ticked by, he finally approached his final answer.

    I got it.

    He looked at his answer.

    ¡­Is it wrong?

    Richard hadn¡¯t made a mistake previously, but now that it mattered a lot more, he had started doubting himself. The sound of the sliding beads on Crassa¡¯ metal pad further distracted him.

    Oh fuck this. ¡°The answer is 527 point 194, the four repeating.¡± He said.

    The servant woman gave him a blank stare. ¡°Point?¡±

    ¡°Uhhh. Decimal. Five hundred and twenty-seven, one hundred and ninety-four hundredths¨Cthen the four repeats endlessly.¡± How does the translator even translate this? He realized. They have Roman numerals, right? Doesn¡¯t that¡­ not have decimals? Or at least I¡¯ve never heard of it!

    Crassa gave her abacus to the servant, almost completely abruptly.

    I fucking got it wrong.

    She stretched, the action doing some very nice things to her body. ¡°Good work, kid.¡±

    Eh? Or not?

    ¡°I¡¯ll admit it, that¡¯s a curious way to describe fractions. Placement of the numbers in relation to each other representing different amounts. Your people, they were very precise?¡±

    ¡°Uh, yes. They built trains¨C¡° He quickly cut himself off. There was no need to bring up inventions that hadn¡¯t existed yet. ¡°They built ships that could cross the oceans, and far more. Great architecture, tall skyscrapers¨Cer, towers that were so tall that it looked like they were touching the sky.¡±

    She motioned for him to follow. He cautiously did so, not entirely sure what brought on the change. She brought him to an area where a number of red beds were placed in a semicircle around a number of low, well-polished wooden tables. Having been following her closely, he continued walking with her all the way until they were both right beside one of the beds. It was one on the right of the semi-circle. There were pillows on them and each end was curved upwards, though oddly, he didn¡¯t see any bed sheets.

    Was she showing me where to stay? Seems a little open for a bedroom¡­ And too many beds, too. Is this how Romans slept? But it does feel like a living room, so maybe they¡¯re couches? No, can¡¯t be. These couches don¡¯t have backs.

    Crassa laid down on her side on the one he followed her to. ¡°Diadumen, serve me and my guest a meal!¡± She called.

    The servant woman nodded and left.

    Richard stared down at Crassa awkwardly. Technically, there was some space left. Okay, so couch. But why is she laying on her side like that? Her position did nice things to her behind, letting her shapely rear peak out a little, hugged by the tunic. He was broken from his thoughts when he noticed her watching gaze. Oh, shit, she didn¡¯t notice my eyes wandering, did she?

    She pointed using her chin at the seat opposing her.

    Taking the cue, he walked around a few low, three legged tables, and then over to the opposing red bed. Watching Crassa, he carefully sat down.

    She broke eye contact, implicitly approving his actions. ¡°You¡¯ll have to excuse my initial skepticism.¡± She said, but rather than being polite it sounded more like a command. Like he must excuse her. Not in the same way Sulla talked, who sounded like a general ready to lead her men in a charge, but rather like Crassa just didn¡¯t care about how her words would be received.

    These women might be beautiful but they sure are a bunch of dicks. The only ¡®nice¡¯ one here was Gaia.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been tired of talentless imbeciles asking for matronage.¡± As she let out a drawn out sigh, servants came up with drinks and food and placed them on the tables in front of each bed. Wine, roasted vegetables, fruits, seared meat, bread, all delivered in silver cups and silver plates. Or so he guessed the material, as he wasn¡¯t much of a metallurgist. ¡°I¡¯m not convinced of your full story, but your intellect, I see it.¡±

    ¡°Will he not eat too?¡± Richard asked about her husband.

    ¡°No.¡± She said simply. Venuleius took the cue and made to leave. ¡°He¡¯s already eaten.¡± Crassa casually picked a piece of the food¨Ca piece of meat in a black sauce.

    Resting on the armrest, he reached forward and picked up the mystery meat too. The nutty, almost floral smell made him think of veal, and he took a testing bite. The umami and fermented taste of the slathered dressing reminded him of some sort of fish sauce. Oh, shit. His eyes lit up. It¡¯s kind of a banger.

    As he ate, her eyes bore into him. He shifted uncomfortably, not sure why he was underneath such scrutiny. She seemed better convinced of his status as a distant foreigner, so perhaps it was to size him up. A gaze of curiosity, over what was an oddity. It wasn¡¯t like Richard looked any different from the other Romans though. He had dark auburn hair, blue eyes, and had average height with looks of european descent, all the usual attributes.

    ¡°You¡¯d do well as a slave.¡± Crassa said.

    He choked on the meat he was eating. It took quite a minute for him to cough it out, but even with it out he only felt barely better. ¡°What?¡± He thought he got on her good side!

    ¡°Pretty skin. Face leaning on the handsome side, if a little feminine. Fit, far more than usual, something which I know there are those willing to pay a good price for.¡± Crassa stiffly swirled her drink in her hand. ¡°And educated by barbarians across Oceanus. A fine specimen.¡± She took a swig.

    Barbarians?! ¡°Crassa¨C¡°

    ¡°So what do you want from me?¡± Her eyes, a set of lustrous onyx gems with gaze sharp like an eagle¡¯s. ¡°Riches? Land?¡±

    He swallowed his immediate reply. It looked like his tests weren¡¯t over. ¡°Opportunities. I seek to use the skills I¡¯ve been taught in order to buy my way home.¡±

    Home.

    His impassive face tightened, before he made himself loosen up.

    ¡°As you know, I am educated as much as an eighteen year old can be. I seek work as¡­¡± What exactly could he do, even? At this time period, everything might be two thousand years behind, but from what he understood, there was a period of relative technological stagnation¨Ceven if not as much as some people think. That meant that it wasn¡¯t like he was teaching cavemen how to make fire. Additionally, even if he knew some principles behind some technologies, it wasn¡¯t like he could produce it from scratch. For example, he knew gunpowder had something to do with poop, but he had absolutely no idea about the ratios involved, and what to even do with the poop. Having the time and funds to do his experiments seemed pretty ridiculous right now, when faced with Crassa¡¯ unending skepticism.

    His advanced mathematics were unfortunately not very awe-inspiring, not when he couldn¡¯t prove their usefulness immediately. His sciences: basic and superficial. His history and geography¨Call but useless. His customer service skills from working odd jobs¡­ He had a feeling there were no Starbucks on the planet, never mind a thousand kilometer radius.

    ¡°An accountant?¡± He guessed, falling back on his clerk idea. A job crunching numbers seemed simple enough. The rest of the required knowledge, he assumed, should be simpler due to the two thousand year difference. Not that he knew what an accountant actually did. No wait¨Ctaking charge of money without the assistance of financial software and data keeping seemed like a job requiring a lot of trust. ¡°...Or perhaps any trades you feel I could do. Even manual work.¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s all you want?¡±

    He didn¡¯t like the way she looked at him. ¡°Yes.¡± He answered carefully.

    A servant came over at her beckoning and filled up her cup. She kept her gaze on him. ¡°I can look around for you. I know a few people who would be interested. However, the meager pay of a male manual laborer would barely keep you alive, never mind secure a spot on a suicidal mission braving the seas.¡±

    Hm¡­ ¡°I¡¯m only asking what¡¯s possible.¡± He amended, thinking quickly. ¡°As generous as you have been tonight, I think it would be presumptuous to ask for a position that pays well enough to earn a ship.¡±

    ¡°Usually, unless you had something more to trade. Then, you¡¯d find many offers to your liking.¡±

    He took a bit of the bread, using it as an opportunity to consider what she had said. Hmmm, quite soft and fluffy. ¡°...What specifically are you speaking about?¡±

    ¡°You.¡±

    And there we go, the conversation went full circle despite his best efforts. It was like she was especially interested in that topic for some reason.

    ¡°I¡¯m not selling myself to anyone.¡± He gritted out.

    ¡°Then, whatever your goals, I hope you find luck working a stable, or whatever you find. I also warn you to be careful¡­ It¡¯s not safe out there for a lone, attractive man like yourself.¡± She leaned forward with a smirk.

    His gaze lowered to the table. There had to be something he could do. Also, what the hell was she saying?! Venuleius might not be here, but he could be within earshot!

    ¡°Why is it that you¡¯re so against it, anyways?¡± She asked.

    ¡°Selling myself?¡± He said incredulously. ¡°Do I really need to explain?¡±

    ¡°I would say it''s the easiest way to gain matronage and the resources you need. We aren¡¯t barbarians, there is a certain way we need to treat our slaves. Serve your master faithfully and you¡¯ll be able to buy your way out, leaving you with a powerful ally. Not to mention¡­¡± She licked her fingers and he was distracted for a second as he watched her tongue glide over her lithe digits. ¡°Citizenship.¡±

    ¡°...Okay?¡± He felt like he understood its importance¨Che remembered it clearly, especially around his wrists¨Cwhere he was certain red marks were still etched on his skin.

    ¡°That¡¯s the only way to get it if your father wasn¡¯t a roman citizen and you¡¯re not bestowed the honor by a magistrate.¡± She casually explained.

    ¡°Oh.¡± Oh. Still, Richard was against it. His modern sensibilities prevented him from considering it with any degree of seriousness, if the frightening unknowns of life as a slave didn¡¯t supersede it. However, Crassa was painting a pretty bleak picture of his current situation and he tried to find a route out of this dilemma despite feeling like his every option had been shot down by her with very little difficulty.

    Wait. He narrowed his eyes.

    He reconsidered the conversation, walking through what they had discussed. Then, he looked back at her. ¡°Are you personally interested in buying me?¡±

    She grinned. ¡°Good work.¡±

    That bitch! She had a stake in it, so she was trying to manipulate me! While I haven¡¯t had much success in one day of job searching, it was just one day. It would be idiotic to give up so fast, when the alternative is far worse! He almost leapt to his feet, but just as fast as it came he forced the emotions to dissipate. I can¡¯t get angry. It¡¯ll only weaken both my position and my ability to decipher her intentions. Instead, he reached out for his cup and let his anger upon that instead. It was quite well made though, and didn¡¯t even dent underneath his grip.

    She watched his shaking cup with interest. ¡°Men like you are rare, and even then, many of them decide to settle. The more we talk, the more I sense your value increasing.¡±

    He hated how she was talking about him like he was a piece of meat. ¡°Then perhaps I should stretch this out as long as possible.¡± He gritted out.

    ¡°Oh don¡¯t worry about that, I think for you, I would pay good money.¡± She sighed. ¡°Unfortunate that I wasn¡¯t able to seal the deal in the small amount of time we had, however.¡±

    Suddenly, he had a very bad feeling. ¡°...Why?¡±

    Crassa gave him a mysterious smile. ¡°I think you might just be snatched up by someone else.¡±

 Chapter 2 Part 2

    Loud banging on the door made him jump.

    It sounded like they were trying to smash it down with how vigorous it was. The doorway, and the entrance itself were both in sight and he thought at perhaps any moment he would be seeing a bunch of women barreling in. Crassa got up from the couch-like furniture with a sudden calm, and she approached.

    Those are the times where you don¡¯t answer! Richard thought. He hadn¡¯t forgotten about Sulla¡¯s pursuers. If Sulla¡¯s a big shot, I don¡¯t want to know what kind of enemies she has after her!

    ¡°Who is it?¡± She asked.

    There was a muffled reply. Crassa¡¯s hands reached for the locks.

    Richard had no time to admire the ancient designs as she unlocked the door. And what the hell does she mean by ¡®snatched up¡¯ by someone else? Is this the person? Some random woman?! He was wondering what new kind of absurd traditions he was about to be introduced to that allowed them to randomly enslave people. His hand gripped the soft material of the cushion beneath him, nearly ripping it.

    Finally, Crassa lifted up the wooden bar that kept the door shut. At this point, the banging on the door had become silent. When she opened it, the women who had been responsible for the disturbance were revealed. Attractive as they were, Richard''s eyes moved almost instantly from their supernaturally perfect faces to the makeshift weapons they were holding.

    ¡°Publia Licinia Crassa, it is an honor to meet an ex-consul. I hope you have been having a calm evening.¡± The lead woman greeted. She had long, black wavy hair that was tied up in a high ponytail. Richard thought it looked very strange, and it took him a few seconds to realize that it was the first feminine¨Cas in his version of feminine¨Chairstyle. There was even a ribbon, elegantly tied around a lock of her hair.

    ¡°Yes, I was appreciative of the forewarning.¡± Crassa said with a performatory smile.

    ¡°I¡¯m the third daughter of Hubertia Sulpicia Scapula, Gentia Sulpicia Scapula.¡± The woman introduced herself. Despite her hairstyle, her face was robotic as can be. Flat, unexpressive, and as she talked she looked like a cartoon character that had lost its facial rigging. Even her tone was monotonic. ¡°I served as quaestor underneath Licinia Claudia Maximia in Syracuse in the year of Flaccus and Herennius.¡± It was like you took a human and stripped the humanity away and then left only the husk.

    Richard blinked. Romans certainly liked their names.

    ¡°I was sent on behalf of Publia Sulpicia Rufina in order to¨C¡°

    Gentia¡¯s eyes met Richard¡¯s.

    ¡°¨CIf I may,¡± She suddenly cut into her own sentence. ¡°I am also looking for a man who has dishonored my mother. It is said that he has dark chestnut hair and eyes blue like Poseidon¡¯s. Your guest there, could I approach him and verify it myself?¡±

    Crassa glanced at him. ¡°He has been pleasant so far, I see little reason to allow you to disturb him.¡±

    ¡°I insist. It was a grievous shame he had inflicted upon her.¡±

    Richard¡¯s anger flared immediately at the interpretation of events. How dare she talk of the assault on my person as MY fault?!

    ¡°You¡­ accuse him?¡±

    ¡°I do accuse the stranger of no renown, but if the honored ex-consul would speak on his behalf, I wouldn¡¯t dare consider myself a better judge of character than you,¡± said Gentia.

    Crassa paused. She looked at him again, but Richard couldn¡¯t decipher the strange expression that flashed across her face. ¡°...What is the crime?¡±

    ¡°Debauchery and seduction.¡±

    For wearing the clothing wrong?! I was literally minding my own fucking business, and you blame me for seducing her?! The indignation that boiled within him finally bubbled over. He rose to his feet and stomped over to Crassa¡¯s side. ¡°You bitch! It wasn¡¯t like I wanted to be in that state! Not like I knew anything about Roman culture!¡±

    ¡°Your ignorance unfortunately can¡¯t be excused.¡±

    ¡°Crassa! Talk some sense into her!¡±

    Rather than responding immediately, the ex-consul straightened herself. She clasped her hands behind her back, somehow reminding Richard of a gun getting cocked. She cleared her throat, and she spoke up.

    ¡°It¡¯s true that a man¡¯s public decorum is of utmost importance and my guest does lack in that regard. To excite a woman, in itself, is a sin.¡±

    ¡°Agreed,¡± Gentia said. Taking it as permission, she stepped forward. Richard flinched, taking a step back. Her empty, soulless, ice gray eyes were not ones of a living being.

    What a creepy woman!

    ¡°However,¡± Crassa stopped her as she passed her with a firm hand on her shoulder. ¡°For a crime of seduction to have occurred, there are multiple elements that must have been present.¡±

    Gentia sighed. ¡°Crassa¨C¡° She tried to shake it off.

    ¡°Stay.¡±

    Gentia did so, instantly stiffening at the tone. As did the henchwomen, who looked at the ex-consul uneasily, despite her far less imposing stature.

    ¡°First of all,¡± Crassa started. Her voice was almost belting, loud yet not yelling. Like it was meant to echo across auditoriums. ¡°Let me hear your case. Present your accusation.¡±

    Gentia spoke carefully, something that came across despite her total lack of feelings in her voice. ¡°I, Gentia Sulpicia Scapula, on behalf of my mother Hubertia Sulpicia Scapula, accuse this man of no renown of debauchery and seduction. He enticed my mother by baring his body, conducting like a prostitute, and therefore misleading her.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Sulpicia. Now, let¡¯s hear from you, Rikard.¡±

    Richard slow blinked. ¡°I think we¡¯re missing a bit of context. I had no way of knowing Roman culture. The clothes off my back were stolen from me and it is only due to the kindness of the strangers of Rome that I was able to survive the day.¡±

    ¡°The day?¡± Crassa said.

    Shit. His eyes widened a little. No wait, there¡¯s no issue. ¡°I was caught by slavers, but was able to escape. It has been only a day in Rome.¡±

    Crassa¡¯s gaze snapped to him. ¡°Were you sold?¡±

    ¡°No.¡± He decided to answer truthfully.

    ¡°Good.¡±

    Why did¨COh shit! Don¡¯t tell me if I had been sold, I would have counted as a real slave then, even if I was kidnapped?! Is there nothing as freeborn rights?! He felt his pulse quicken. Holy shit, I just escaped a trap of my own making by the skin of my teeth!

    ¡°Then his behavior is explained. I have heard the story myself. While fantastical in some elements, the rest is not uncommon.¡± Crassa said.

    ¡°Wait, wait¨Cwhy is their behavior not up for debate?¡± Richard interrupted. ¡°They tried to¨C¡° He swallowed. ¡°They tried to assault me!¡±

    He expected them to deny it, but Gentia¡¯s response astounded him. ¡°Well yes. You were displaying your body for all to see.¡± She stated flatly.

    ¡°So what?!¡± He cried.

    The three women were completely unsympathetic and looked at him strangely. Turning to Crassa, he found even her impassive.

    ¡°You can¡¯t just¨CIt isn¡¯t¡­¡±

    ¡°It is only natural,¡± Gentia said. ¡°My mother is only a woman, after all.¡±

    ¡°While it is unfortunate that they were not able to resist their urges,¡± Crassa said, scrunching her nose distastefully, ¡°They can¡¯t be blamed for their nature.¡±

    Nature¨Cwhat the hell are they saying?!

    ¡°That is not all, however!¡± One of the henchwomen spoke up. ¡°If I may, Crassa, I have testimony of the event and wish to speak my share. There are certain actions that he has taken that could only be taken as seduction.¡±

    Oh fuck you! I don¡¯t recognize her, but I certainly haven¡¯t memorized all their faces.

    ¡°Go on,¡± Crassa said.

    ¡°The first time we saw him, he was wearing only a loin cloth wrapped around his waist.¡±

    Richard scratched his chin. ¡°Like I said¨C¡°

    ¡°Can we first confirm this fact?¡± The woman said.

    Richard took a moment to think before he slowly nodded. ¡°That was as much as the shop owner could spare. Yes.¡± They seem to have stayed with the facts, and if I start lying outrageously, I don¡¯t know where I would slip up.

    ¡°Were you walking around a market area?¡±

    ¡°...Yes?¡±

    ¡°I remember that day, it was packed with people. Is that true?¡±

    ¡­What is she getting at? ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°And how were you walking?¡±

    He frowned. How I walked? ¡°...Normally?¡± After getting the loincloth, it wasn¡¯t as bad. With how warm it was, I could imagine I was in my swim trunks. It was a little breezy, though.

    ¡°Could you please show us?¡±

    Richard had no idea where this was leading, but he felt like it wouldn¡¯t be somewhere good. He spent a moment in silence. Nothing came to him, so he hesitantly demonstrated his normal, casual walk. He was the type to have a good posture while he did so.

    ¡°Thank you,¡± The woman said. ¡°Now, were your arms on your sides like this?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    ¡°A-ha!¡± She shouted. ¡°See! No self-respecting man would act so shameless!¡±

    Gentia stirred, commenting on how her henchman was right. Crassa nodded as if seeing her point¨CRichard was completely lost.

    ¡°Am I banned from walking?¡± He said, astounded.

    Crassa turned to him, crossing her arms beneath her bust. ¡°If your arms were at your side,¡± She explained calmly, ¡°And you were disrobed except for a loincloth, then your¨Cerm,¡° She paused ¡°- chest would be exposed.¡±

    I don¡¯t fucking understand.

    ¡°Yeah and?¡± He wouldn¡¯t have been as bewildered if he saw pigs flying.

    ¡°Shameless! No man would expose his chest without trying to seduce a woman!¡± She said proudly.

    He stared at her. It was the stupidest thing he¡¯s ever heard. Stupider than the Emu War that the Australians lost. Stupider than the Dancing Plague of 1518. Even stupider than the Allies¡¯ plan to feminize Hitler.

    Then, he glanced at the other female occupants of the room, and then found them shockingly in agreement with the unnamed henchwoman.

    Wait, I¡¯m the crazy one?! He frowned, then tried to take it seriously. Is there even a reason why a man¡¯s chest is of any sexual importance? Is it a secondary sexual characteristic?! I guess muscles could count since Lilith¨Ca glimpse of sadness flashed across his face¨Cliked running her hands over my pecs, but the women here are the masculine ones! Venuleius was clearly feminine, so I can¡¯t imagine them liking masculine men, if his appearance is the norm.

    ¡°Your arguments, defendant?¡± Crassa asked him. He thought she¡¯d be more hostile like she was at the beginning when he mentioned kings, but instead, she sounded detached. More like a referee than anything. As he examined her expression, he thought he could detect a little¡­ expectation?

    Is this another test? He took a moment, resisting the urge to make an outburst. He took a breath as he organized his thoughts.

    ¡°Let¡¯s look at this from a different way,¡± He carefully said. ¡°I am not Roman, obviously, and come from a different culture.¡± He received nods.

    The henchwoman who had talked before only rolled her eyes. ¡°And how does that matter?¡±

    Crassa raised her hand. ¡°Let him talk.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Crassa¨C¡° There was a strange sound of something falling into water from a high height. He turned around, seeing ripples on the water of the little pool that was located as the centerpiece of the atrium. That¡¯s weird. ¡°As I was saying before I was interrupted, we come from different cultures. I propose the following: the emphasis on secondary sexual traits is cultural.¡±

    ¡°Ridiculous. All women like ass, chest and penis.¡± Gentia said in the flattest tone possible.

    Richard¡¯s eyebrows raised. Despite her monotone, he could help but feel like she had said the crude words differently than his friends would have. He resisted his sudden urge to put his arms around himself, as if he was physically threatened.

    He spoke up. ¡°Secondary ones, so¡­ genitalia¡­¡± The henchwomen chuckled immaturely, though Gentia had her usual, dead look. ¡°¨Cwouldn¡¯t count. Perhaps the male behind¨C¡°

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    ¡°You know you could say ass.¡± The henchwoman said snidely.

    I do and normally would, but I¡¯m certainly not comfortable saying it here! ¡°...and other aspects. Feet, Adam''s apple, those things¡­ Consider the other parts of a man that physically makes you attracted to a man.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll point them out if you strip!¡± There was laughter in the back.

    He narrowed his eyes, but it was Crassa who warned them.

    ¡°Come on, it was just a joke. Why take it so seriously?¡± The henchwoman grumbled.

    It took all he had not to keep civil. ¡°As I was saying, different cultures put varying amounts of emphasis on separate secondary sex characteristics. Therefore, even if you find men¡¯s chest sexual here, other places, they may not care entirely.¡±

    ¡°Hard to imagine,¡± Gentia said. ¡°Is there an example that you know of?¡±

    Fuck. Obviously I know nothing of cultures from two thousand years ago.

    ¡°I see what you mean, very well articulated,¡± Crassa said. ¡°That¡¯s a very interesting thought. I believe the Egyptians value men with more meat on their bones and very thick eyeliner.¡±

    ¡°Kohl eyeliner is deceitful.¡± Gentia said matter of factly. ¡°No woman would want a man that wears it, unless they are looking for a quick lay.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean? That¡¯s absolutely hot!¡± The henchwoman shot in. ¡°You don¡¯t understand anything about beauty in a man, Gentia.¡±

    ¡°I had said ¡®unless they are looking for a quick lay¡¯, didn¡¯t I?¡±

    The henchwoman looked insulted. ¡°I treat my men with respect!¡±

    Richard almost rolled his eyes so hard they fell from his eye sockets.

    The other henchwoman also spoke up. ¡°Not to mention the barbarians in the west who like their men with facial hair, unshaved, and bathed once every month.¡±

    Richard coughed. ¡°I think my point is proven.¡±

    Gentia eyed him evenly. ¡°...I¡¯m still not entirely convinced¨C.¡±

    ¡°Hm,¡± Crassa grunted. The attention of the entire room turned to her. ¡°So to summarize, your point is that prioritization of secondary sexual characteristics is specific to the cultures at hand. His intentions were not to seduce Hubertia Sulpicia Scapula, Gentia¡¯s mother, but rather completely benign.¡± At Crassa¡¯s intervention, Gentia and her women begrudgingly yielded to her words.

    She said the exact same thing I did! Why¡¯d they listen now?!

    ¡°Then I suppose that¡¯s closed¨C¡°

    The sounds of rapid, running footsteps made Richard turn around, only to find himself tackled by a woman. He took steps backwards in order to not fall over and therefore the woman was able to push him into Gentia¡¯ arms.

    ¡°Take him, Sulpicia!¡± The new henchwoman yelled.

    He tried to get out of the woman¡¯s grip, but she was strong and the angle was awkward for him. Two women would be able to overpower him. He turned his gaze to Gentia, ready to counter her offense as he lay within the embrace of her thin limbs, almost dropping him¨C

    All she did was stare at him with her unflinching, stoic gaze.

    Her henchwomen grabbed him instead.

    Crassa at this point had reacted, tearing the stealthier attacker off him. That left two, who successfully dragged him all the way to the doorway unimpeded. In his struggle, he was able to rip his right arm out. He took the chance to grab the woman''s neck on his right, then used the handhold to send his knee up smashing into her face. She stumbled backwards, swearing.

    His back being against the remaining woman on him, the henchwoman took the chance to knee him in the back. Crying out, he fell to his knees, and then the other henchwoman recovered to force his arms behind his back. With great effort, they dragged him out of the house and into the darkness of Rome¡¯s night streets.

    If this was any other situation, he would have relished the proximity of the beauties¡¯ bodies¨Cand they were surprisingly soft in many areas¨Cbut fear and distress blanked his mind. He swore at the women, verbalizing his hatred in puzzling language to his attackers.

    Gentia watched him silently as he was dragged out. Then, she turned to Crassa. ¡°I apologize for the disturbance. I will make my leave swiftly. Thank you for inviting us into your home.¡±

    Crassa didn¡¯t say anything, still keeping the henchwoman she had secured in check. She didn¡¯t look too worried at the turn of events, oddly enough.

    ¡°Nothing like a man, isn¡¯t this barbarian?¡± Gentia commented like she was making an observation at a natural phenomenon. ¡°Tongue as dirty as a low-born plebeian.¡±

    Another tirade of threats exited his mouth. He had grabbed the doorframe and was not letting go for dear life, while the henchwomen did their best to violently dislodge.

    ¡°There¡¯s some good things too.¡± Crassa said. She didn¡¯t look worried.

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s intelligent. He¡¯s handsome.¡± She listed off. ¡±Not to mention he¡¯s useful.¡±

    Gentia looked at her, the oddity of the statement clearly giving her pause despite the confusion not showing on her face.

    That¡¯s when four hundred pounds of muscle dropped from the roof outside the domicile and onto the two women engaged with Richard. The attacker crushed the henchwoman underneath her weight and slammed the victim¡¯s face into the roman street tiles with a crack. The other henchwoman hurried to bring her own weapon to bear. Too late, as a fist slammed into her face. She was sent sprawling down the darkness.

    ¡°What?¡± Gentia dropped her own wooden stick. ¡°Sulla?¡± A bit of quiver leaked into her monotone.

    Richard stared at the bull-woman. Without her tunic, she stood almost bare, wearing only strips of cloths that were wrapped around her four breasts and a loincloth. The light from the domicile illuminated her skin, a canvas of warm honey, against the backdrop of the dark night. Physical exertion was apparent by the sheen on her, and for a moment, he thought her absolutely stunning in a way mere physical beauty could never match.

    ¡°Your consul commands you to surrender.¡± Sulla¡¯s stoic face was solid as stone. ¡°Immediately.¡±

    Gentia scrambled to pick up her weapon and ready it. Almost instantly Sulla was before her. With a roar, the bull-woman¡¯s fist smashed through the wooden stick that was raised to block her blow. It followed through, landing squarely in the center of Gentia¡¯s chest. Then, with thunderous force, the offending woman was blown across the room. The unconscious woman slammed into one of the marble pillars, before tumbling into the pool of water.

    Richard stared.

    ¡°Are you hurt, young boy?¡± Sulla gruffly questioned him, giving him a hand up. He took it and she pulled him to his feet. The physical feat astounded him, making him wish that he had received a martial boon in this new world rather than absolutely nothing. He sighed, his hand gliding over his painfully throbbing stomach and the stinging skin caused by the henchmen''s manhandling of him. His heart pounded in his chest, the cold sweat on himself starting to become chilly in the cold air of the evening. This new world sucked.

    ¡°Rikard?¡±

    It took him a moment to realize Sulla was calling him, since she was using a ¡®k¡¯ sound rather than his ¡®ch¡¯. ¡°Oh, uh yes?¡± He replied.

    ¡°It must have been a harrowing ordeal,¡± Sulla grunted. ¡°The streets of the Republic are¡­ chaotic at the moment.¡±

    ¡°No! No, I¡¯m fine!¡± He laughed, waving it off. ¡°I¡¯m made out of tougher things than that,¡± He took a step back into Crassa¡¯s home, but suddenly his legs almost gave out from underneath him.

    Crassa¡¯s eyes widened and she took a step forward. She was too far, however, and still holding back the other attacker, so Sulla was the one who caught him.

    ¡°No need to bluff, boy.¡± Sulla spun him around and hugged him against her body, embracing him in warmth and strength.

    Eh?! She was tall enough that only her lower breasts hung barely at head level. Pressed against the firm mounds, his immediate struggles petered out for¡­ scientific¡­ reasons. Rather than smelling like lavender or any other smell he¡¯d attribute to a woman, she smelled like leather, steel and olive oil. Her hand came up to pat him on the head, causing him to struggle again as his manly pride flared up once more.

    ¡°Shhh.¡± She said. ¡°Feel free to cry in my arms.¡±

    Yeah no. He realized quickly there was no escape though, and as she continued her ministrations, he also noticed he was overly tense. Therefore, he let himself relax into the embrace, muttering to himself a few complaints that fell on deaf ears.

    For the first time in the last few minutes, his proximity to a woman wasn¡¯t filled with imminent violence. Unlike the women from before who started getting handsy, Sulla played the perfect gentleman slash lady, making sure her other hand that wasn¡¯t stroking him gently was wrapped around the small of his back rather than doing anything untoward. His arms that had been awkwardly hanging at his side as if he was a waddling penguin, slowly rose up to return the hug.

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t you two come back in?¡± Crassa coughed. The henchwoman she had restrained seemed to have surrendered and was now tied up. A servant was leading her away. The other henchwomen were dragged away by other servants too, including Gentia from the pool.

    Where were all of you during the fight?!

    ¡°Hmmm.¡± Sulla grunted. When Richard gripped her tighter reflectively, she spoke up once more. ¡°The boy has some second thoughts about the safety of your home now. You need to be more careful, Crassa.¡± She chided.

    The flash of irritation disappeared as fast as it appeared on Crassa¡¯s face. Richard, having caught it at the edge of his sight, couldn¡¯t help but be annoyed. You¡¯re the one who let them in your home! Not to mention, what the hell? Aren¡¯t you rich? Don¡¯t you have bodyguards?!

    Sulla carefully brought Richard in, using gentleness that he was shocked she even had. They moved back to the couches, and after sitting down at one of the outermost seats, Sulla offered to let him sit on her lap. Richard obviously declined. Now that his moment of weakness had passed, he wasn¡¯t about to do such a thing. He was a man, after all, so sat beside her. Crassa sat on the opposite side once more.

    The whole situation felt quite dissonant to him. It was strange to be saved by a woman, not to mention be comforted in such a way that would have been far more traditional if the genders had been flipped. That wasn¡¯t like he was saying that he was saying it was wrong or anything, more that it felt odd playing the role of the damsel.

    Next time, I want to be able to do more. He told himself with resolve. This is a dangerous as fuck world.

    ¡°Tell me, what is it that you did?¡± Sulla gruffly asked him as Crassa¡¯s servants brought in more food. This time, assorted fruits and wine. He wasn¡¯t hungry, the throbbing pain still fresh, but Sulla reached for the food.

    He told her, not leaving out any details.

    Sulla sighed. ¡°Decadence. Deterioration of the mos maiorum.¡± Richard blinked at the strange word, but a second later he felt like he understood it. ¡®Way of the ancestors¡¯ suddenly replaced the word in his mind.

    Crassa snorted. ¡°You can¡¯t blame this on¨C¡°

    ¡°Oh?¡± Sulla¡¯s anger flared. ¡°Armed mobs are rioting through the streets, patrician women are drowning themselves in vice of all kinds like a Greek hedonist, the two rightful consuls of the year are besieged by their own people¨C!¡± Each word was punched through the air by a voice meant to be used on the battlefield. ¡°Chaos at our doorstep, Crassa. How could you let it stand?¡±

    ¡°I do not think¨C¡°

    ¡°I accept your apology for not thinking.¡±

    ¡°¨CI do not believe,¡± Crassa reiterated with slight irritation, ¡°That escalation will serve any of us any good.¡±

    ¡°I am only protecting what is our right. They are the ones provoking me! Does a woman not deserve the right to defend her honor?¡±

    Richard looked between the two. The argument, while heated, was more civil than he¡¯d thought. There was conviction in their words, of course, but neither had gone to the point of yelling. ¡°Why were they rioting?¡± He asked curiously.

    The two of them gave him a look. He shrunk a little underneath their gaze.

    Sulla took a swig of the wine, before slamming down the cup. Wine dripped down her full lips, down her slim neck¨Cfor her stature and musculature¨Cand then down in the valley of her breasts, disappearing beneath the cloth wraps. ¡°My political enemies couldn¡¯t beat me with their intellect, so they chose violence to substitute for ability.¡±

    Oh, those kinds of people. He wrinkled his nose. ¡°Distasteful.¡±

    ¡°Politics must be boring to you. Let¡¯s perhaps speak of a different topic,¡± Crassa suggested, looking apologetically at him. ¡°Like Rikard¡¯s fate.¡±

    My name¡¯s not that hard to say! Both slights made him tighten his jaw. Still, the mention of him instantly put him on high alert.

    Sulla watched Crassa carefully. ¡°...And what did you determine?¡±

    Crassa returned her gaze unflinchingly. ¡°He¡¯s more intelligent than I thought.¡±

    ¡°Heh.¡± Sulla grinned. ¡°So¨C¡°

    ¡°Four days a week.¡±

    Sulla reached for an apple on the table. ¡°Two days a week.¡±

    ¡°Three days a week.¡±

    ¡°Deal.¡±

    What? Richard looked between them, very confused.

    Sulla took a bite of her apple, tearing its flesh with surprising savagery. She swallowed it, barely chewing. ¡°Well, boy. Looks like you¡¯re going to be mine.¡±

    ¡°Your what?¡±

    ¡°My slave.¡±

    ¡­What? It took him a moment to process it. When he did, he immediately jumped to his feet in protest. ¡°I¡¯m nobody¡¯s slave!¡±

    Sulla sighed. ¡°Calm down, boy, I¡¯m only doing it to protect you.¡± She ordered.

    Agitation made his teeth chatter. ¡°I said I won¡¯t be property. I don¡¯t need your protection, not that way!¡±

    Crassa hid her smirk by taking a drink.

    Sulla sighed again, grabbing her cup of wine. ¡°You will be provided with a living stipend. There will be no roles expected from you, except to show where I need you to show up. A few errands too, if needs be. Not to mention, it¡¯s not forever. You¡¯ll be able to purchase yourself out of it and become a Roman citizen.¡±

    ¡°And you think that¡¯s worth selling my freedom away?¡± Richard shot back. ¡°I don¡¯t even know if you¡¯d keep your word¨C!¡±

    Sulla crushed the cup in her hands with a loud crunch. Wine splattered across her arm and her lap. Richard quickly averted his eyes, her gaze burrowing into his skull. ¡°You dare?¡±

    He hadn¡¯t forgotten that she was an almost seven feet tall behemoth. ¡°¨CE¨CEven if you did, why couldn¡¯t I just find work?¡±

    Crassa called for a servant, and she brought over towels. The servant helped wipe Sulla down. Sulla took a moment to recompose her expression, becoming more neutral. ¡°A large living stipend, far more than you¡¯d be able to get at any menial job.¡±

    ¡°I still won¡¯t sell off my freedom for mere money!¡±

    ¡°Then what about for safety?¡±

    He paused.

    She grinned, knowing she caught him. ¡°Without legal protection or a family, who knows what kind of ruffian off the streets might do to you? Cheat you of your pay? Steal your possessions? Rape you like any low-born man, and then execute you for made up charges?¡±

    Every possibility shook him further. His skin itched, as if phantom hands were groping him. He knew it well. Very well. Too well.

    The story of Esmeralda in the ¡®Hunchback of Notre Dame¡¯ came into mind. A vulnerable woman surrounded by people all too willing to take advantage of her, and the chaos and bloodshed left. The powerful preying on the powerless, a natural state of order that those who wish to return to the past have all but forgotten.

    Unlike Esmeralda, he was certainly better equipped to fight one on one, but that was shown to be limited when numbers of the opponents came into question.

    ¡°But as my slave,¡± Sulla said. ¡°An attack upon your person is an attack on me. My influence will protect you far more than any spear or shield.¡±

    He resisted the urge to wrap his arms around himself, not willing to show any sign of weakness.

    ¡°Rikard,¡± Sulla tried to soften her voice. ¡°I¡¯m doing this because I want to help you. I can¡¯t imagine the pain, being lost in a foreign land where everyone''s a stranger. I want to tell you that monsters don¡¯t hide around every corner, but I can¡¯t, much to my consternation, both as consul and a mother.¡±

    Richard sucked in a breath.

    She patted his back. ¡°Think on it. You have the evening.¡±

    A servant took this moment to come and whisper in Crassa¡¯s ear. The woman looked at Sulla, and motioned with her chin deeper into the house. Sulla nodded, and the two women stood up and left.

    This left Richard by himself, alone with his maelstrom of thoughts.

    <hr>

    The two Roman women entered Crassa¡¯s office, composed of many bookcases, a desk, and two chairs. Scrolls, parchments, letters, they all lay on different shelves in well divided piles. The desk, despite being packed with assorted writings, was so neatly arranged it could have been art.

    Picking up a letter on the desk Crassa handed it over. ¡°We¡¯ve received the answer from Maria,¡± she said. ¡°With how little sway she holds on Rome these days, surprising to see you try that angle.¡±

    ¡°You underestimate her waning influence. A lioness does not let go of her prey easily.¡± Sulla grunted, breaking the wax seal and taking a look inside. A short read later, a bit of tension eased from her shoulders. ¡°Looks like she¡¯s willing to shelter me for the next few days until Sulpicia¡¯s mob dies down and I can regroup with my supporters. But only that, nothing on where she stands on Sulpicia.¡±

    ¡°All this over the citizenship law from the Marsic War?¡±

    ¡°...No,¡± Sulla said. Her gaze shifted as she thought. ¡°This is related to the Mithridates campaign. They seek to discredit me so that I am recalled.¡± Anger flared in her, baring her teeth. ¡°While they play their games in Rome, our subjects suffer unimaginable horrors in the East.¡±

    The two stewed in the silence.

    ¡°That whole charade with Rikard.¡± Crassa suddenly said. ¡°Why do you want him?¡±

    ¡°Same reason you do.¡±

    ¡°I can accept the obvious. His latin, perfect¨CRoman-native even. His education, different but not lacking. Hygiene¨Cextraordinary, like the prince of some kingdom. However, your definition of useful clients is¡­¡° Crassa scoffed. ¡°...different from mine. I look for independent people of talent. You look for pawns.¡± She prodded the far larger Sulla on the chest with a finger. ¡°You owe me.¡±

    Sulla looked up at her from the letter, her expression calculative. ¡°I had hoped the three days a week would be the end of that, since I¡¯m footing his bill.¡±

    ¡°Not for him, entirely. For the method.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡± Sulla nodded. ¡°Yes. I¡¯m sorry for ordering you to compromise on your values.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re not sorry.¡±

    Sulla paused, then gave her another nod. ¡°I¡¯m not.¡± She confirmed.

    A low growl escaped Crassa¡¯s throat. ¡°Do not think my sheltering of you today means I approve of you any more than Sulpicia.¡±

    ¡°Personally? Or¡­ Professionally?¡±

    Crassa didn¡¯t give an answer.

    ¡°We both have our hands tied, my friend. These are difficult times.¡±

    ¡°That,¡± Crassa sighed. ¡°That I can agree.¡±

 Chapter 3

    That night, Richard was wide awake.

    By the morning, he would have to make a decision and seal his fate in this new world.

    If he chose to accept Sulla¡¯s offer, he would sign away his freedom with little guarantee except for her words. He might be only eighteen, but he wasn¡¯t that stupid. On the other hand, having absolutely zero support network was debatably just as bad. Who knows what kind of trouble he¡¯d get himself into next time, and then, he might not have a convenient catgirl to save him from it!

    Do I want to keep trying just going door to door again? But what happens if those women from before find me? Especially that soldier woman. A chill went through his body, and it wasn¡¯t from the nightly air that entered into his room from the open window.

    Romans didn¡¯t have glass windows, it seems, or at least not in this room, allowing free passage of the nightly breeze. The room, bare of furniture except for a bed, nightstand, and a stool. The window was facing him, while the nightstand and stool were near the wall that was near his head. These aforementioned walls were well decorated with intricate paintings. His eyes scanned over the designs, and over his leftover bread from supper that sat on the nightstand, letting himself take in what wasn¡¯t hidden by the shadows of the night.

    He let his thoughts wander as he kept mulling over his decision.

    There has to be something I can do! I¡¯m a fucking time traveler, can¡¯t I just raise the technological level somehow and make myself a genius or something?! Like I¡¯ll just¡­ introduce gunpowder, and then within a few decades, make cannons and machine guns¡­

    Except while he had some ideas on where to start, like saltpeter and charcoal, he had no resources and no idea on how the exact formulations worked. Suppose he even did figure it out¨Che had very little idea on metal working and how to move forward towards flintlocks and cannons. Could he really convince anyone to support and finance his research in the meanwhile?

    Other than selling away my freedom, that is.

    As a man of the modern day, his distaste of slavery could be said to be ingrained and reflexive. However, at this point, his mind wandered further.

    ¡­But what is freedom?

    The ability to do as I choose? But choices, they are not only constrained by the ability to make the choices. Rather, they are also constrained by physical limitations. Distance, material¡­ money. Can a good man feed the poor if he has nothing to eat? Can a wage slave leave his company if there¡¯s no alternative way to earn a living? Can a peasant leave his dukeship if he doesn¡¯t have the money to survive the trip? We are all restricted by our means, and that, far more than arbitrary laws of freedom, decide our lives. For means can topple even laws, like the rich skirting around fines or straight up paying them as if they were tolls.

    Therefore, I am already a slave in many ways. Slave to nature, slave to my circumstance. My servitude to Sulla wouldn¡¯t be anything but an exchange of masters, from nature to a woman. Plus, it¡¯s not like it¡¯s indefinite, like she had mentioned. I¡¯ll need to figure out exactly how long and be cautious, there¡¯s definitely ways to extend a contract like that indefinitely.

    Also, she¡¯s hot and a MILF.

    He rolled over, facing the ceiling, adjusting the bed-sheets. The bed beneath him was far harder than a modern mattress, but he cared little, grinning at the ceiling at the memories of the hug.

    Slowly, his grin receded.

    Something bugged him about the whole situation. His senses were tingling, like there was something he was missing, something that didn¡¯t feel right.

    ¡­It''s like that feeling whenever I¡¯m around her. He thought. A certain person back in his old world, a woman that he could say he swore he always felt something off, but had never been able to determine what. And then he had died, escaping her forever. I hoped I could at least say goodbye to her, or to her parents.

    He shook his head, shaking away the nostalgic memories.

    I just feel like¡­ something about the deal seems even too good to be true. Like as if it¡¯s just good enough to be enticing, but also bad enough to not look suspicious. Is ¡®too good¡¯ even the right term for it?

    Is slavery really my only option with them? Like, couldn¡¯t we enter into some other kind of contractual deal? Isn¡¯t the risk of taking on a random stranger not really that high, especially with how interested they seem to be in me?

    The deadline to accept also was incredibly short, disallowing him from ¡®shopping around¡¯ so to speak. Isn¡¯t that suspicious?

    He suddenly froze.

    There was a dark shadow at the window.

    From what he remembered, his bedroom was on the second floor. Out the window was the roof of the first floor. Is it an assassin?! Wait, but there¡¯s literally no reason to assassinate me! Or maybe guards to stop me from running away? He watched with nervous tension, gripping his bedsheets tighter as the form entered through the open window. Probably not a guard¡­

    Then, he saw the form of a long, swaying tail, illuminated by the moonlight as the form bent over, crawling with catlike grace.

    ¡°Gaia?¡± He whispered.

    The tail and the girl straightened with surprise, before relaxing. ¡°Rikard!¡± She whispered with a familiar voice.

    ¡°It¡¯s Richard,¡± He said despite the circumstances.

    ¡°Rikard?¡±

    He sighed. ¡°Anyways, what are you doing here? How did you even know I was here?¡±

    She tread stealthily forward until she paused and he saw her head turn to the nightstand. After a pause, she scampered over and grabbed the bread. He heard her munch on it, sounding more like a mouse than a cat. Hey! My bread!

    Then, she tread stealthily to his bedside, disappearing from his view. Putting one of her normal human hands onto the edge of his cushion, she then popped her head up right beside him, almost making him fall backwards. Her other hand, still holding his bread, also came into view. ¡°I saw what happened at the market.¡± He could hear her concern without seeing her face. All he could see was her outline, including the cute cat ears that twitched at the top of her head. ¡°I followed, I was worried for your safety. Are they holding you hostage?¡±

    ¡°No, no¡­¡± He paused. ¡°Yes? It¡¯s complicated. Also, you really shouldn¡¯t be here.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s only right to save a damsel in distress.¡± She took a bite of his bread. He could see the crumbs fall to the ground.

    He groaned internally. ¡°Look, you are ballsy as f¨Check, but please, two consuls are currently in this house. Aren¡¯t you going to get in trouble for that?¡± He was pretty sure that the most important political entities in Rome would have pretty good protection, even if one of them was an ex-consul and the other wasn¡¯t technically supposed to be here.

    ¡°Sulla and Rufus?! They¡¯re here?!¡±

    He muffled her voice with his hand. ¡°Shhh, and no, it¡¯s Crassa¨C¡° He had forgotten her full name, ¡°the ex-consul, and Sulla.¡± She didn¡¯t know whose home this was?!

    ¡°Sulla and Publia Licinia Crassa? Why are those two together? They¡¯re in opposing camps!¡±

    Richard paused. He had noticed some sort of history between Sulla and Crassa, but opposing camps seemed a little much. ¡°I don¡¯t know, but they¡¯re here, and if they realize you¡¯ve somehow infiltrated Crassa¡¯s home, they might think you¡¯re an assassin or worse. How did you even do that anyways?¡±

    ¡°Oh, just had some friends create a bird-related distraction on the streets. I got onto the roof using a grappling hook and my special skills¨C¡° She wiggled her fingers. ¡°¨Cthen when I saw the one guard you had leave, I found my way here! Oh, yeah, about that¨Cshe¡¯ll be back very soon, we need to leave!¡±

    ¡°Is that really the extent of the security around this place?¡± He deadpanned.

    ¡°Well, whoever else would need to be as smart as I am and have not only an Aspect, but the right Aspect!¡± She preened clearly despite the darkness.

    Ballsy as fuck! And what the hell¡¯s an Aspect? ¡°And didn¡¯t you say you didn¡¯t have the resources to help?¡±

    ¡°I asked you around and found you someone.¡± She whispered. ¡°You¡¯ll just, uh, need to marry them. If that¡¯s no trouble. They said they¡¯d make a decision of course after they meet you, but I assure them you¡¯re very pretty and exotic!¡±

    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Gaia¡­ He groaned mentally. Did this younger teenager have just become my pimp? He hadn¡¯t forgotten what happened the first few times they met. Arranged marriage?! That¡¯s certainly a number of steps above literally slavery and adrift alone in a world without social security, but it ain¡¯t that much better! I have to fucking marry some random hot girl I¡¯ve never met! What a terrible choice!

    He paused. He retread over his thought process. He looked up at her. ¡°I¡¯ll just need to meet them, right?¡±

    She nodded.

    ¡°Deal.¡± Worse comes to worse, I¡¯ll just get a divorce, and I won¡¯t be in any worse position than I was in before. ¡°And please wipe off the crumbs on your face.¡±

    He got out of bed, following her as they moved to the window. Getting out, he realized why she was able to get in so easily. His bedroom was located on a protrusion out from the back right corner of the rectangularly shaped home, requiring an additional guard right outside his window. A guard who seemed to have left due to the distraction in the front. Wait, Crassus does have guards. Then what were they doing earlier when I was getting kidnapped?!

    He took a breath of the cool, nighttime air. Unlike in the modern day, the city was pitch black and above, there was the naked night sky with all its stars. The frescoes and mosaics on the building walls were too dark to make out, so he let his own imagination take hold. He paused there for a second, taking in Rome in the moonlight in all its glory.

    To his left was the neighboring building, slotting into the remaining leftover space of Crassa¡¯s strangely L-shaped home. From that direction, he did hear the distant commotion that Gaia spoke of. To the right was the backstreet behind the home, so dark he couldn¡¯t make out anything.

    Sightlines to the outside of his bedroom window were blocked by the corners and from the apertures in the first floor roofs due to the remoteness of his room and also by the neighboring building. By flattening themselves near the wall, they became invisible to the guards patrolling on the roof of the remaining domus.

    Finishing her bread, she helped him carefully stalk to the edge of the building and then she climbed down the straight and unremarkable wall using the rope she had previously secured using her so-called grappling hook. He was surprised that it even existed at this time, but a quick scan over the design made him realize it was surprisingly simple and very rough around the edges. He helped her dislodge the hook, and then jumped down himself.

    ¡°Hey¨C!¡±

    ¡°Sshhhh.¡± He said, giving the equipment to her outline.

    ¡°I was going to catch you¡­¡± He could hear the pout.

    ¡°...how? You¡¯re tiny.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not tiny! And I have an Aspect!¡±

    ¡°Aspect?¡±

    ¡°Well that¡¯s¨C¡°

    He shushed her again. ¡°We can talk later, far, far away from here.¡± He couldn¡¯t see her expression, but she did nod, seeing his point.

    As they turned to leave, he took one more look back. Crassa¡¯s home was surprisingly minuscule, having only two floors and occupied a small section of the neighborhood. Elsewhere in his vision, he was dwarfed by homes a magnitude larger, making him feel small in the shadowed alleyway.

    He considered the people he was leaving behind. The tough, brick shithouse of a woman, Sulla. The short, rude, strong willed Crassa. He was quickly realizing he was probably pissing off some very important people.

    Then, the two ran off into the night.

    <hr>

    The dark of night was like a vast blanket that smothered the bustle of Rome.

    As Richard and Gaia stalked the deserted streets, they stuck close to the shadows. The moonlight was blocked by the clouds above meaning that Richard could see barely a few feet in front of him and the outlines of buildings. Gaia, on the other hand, led him from place to place with such ease it was as if she was in daylight.

    Maybe she has night vision, being part cat.

    Time to time, he saw armed bands of women march by. If their heavy footsteps didn¡¯t give them away, the torches they were carrying did so. The two stayed away from them with ease, mostly in thanks to Gaia¡¯s stealthy approach and knowledge of the backroads.

    ¡°We need to take the long way around,¡± She whispered to him from right beside him. He almost jumped, having lost track of her only for a second. ¡°To my family¡¯s allies, who won¡¯t ask questions.¡±

    He nodded. They were in an alleyway.

    ¡°There¡¯s the wall of the pomerium up ahead.¡± She whispered. ¡°Follow me carefully, and don¡¯t fall.¡±

    He couldn¡¯t see this wall she was talking about. Looking down the alleyway, all he saw was the outline of the top of the buildings. Still, he did put his hands before him, trying to feel up the upcoming wall.

    He felt it when his knees hit stone. Not expecting it, his torso continued forward and he somersaulted over the waist high obstacle.

    ¡°I said to be careful! Are you okay?¡± Gaia whispered.

    ¡°Yes, yes.¡± He fumbled around, trying to get his bearings. Gaia took his arm and helped him up. That¡¯s a wall?! That can¡¯t even lock in chickens, not to mention humans!

    ¡°We need to be even more careful here.¡± She whispered.

    ¡°Why? Is the political violence worse on this side?¡±

    ¡°No. You¡¯ll find something worse. Bandits and murderers.¡±

    He frowned. Within the city? I guess this is the lawless side?

    Everything was different about this side of Rome, first of which being the smell. Where he had come from, it didn¡¯t smell great, but compared to here it was heaven. There was a musk of piss and horse that hung in the air permanently, and he had to raise his tunic to try to block some of it. The buildings themselves were also different, but he couldn¡¯t put a finger on it being completely in the dark. The alleyway was tighter and as he walked he felt his bare feet step on things he did not wish to know.

    He followed Gaia for a good deal of time between streets and alleyways, enough that he completely lost his sense of direction. They walked single file, unable to fit side-by-side.

    Then she stopped. She put up a hand to stop him that he only realized when he bumped into it. It was right before they were about to walk into the open of a barely moonlit street.

    ¡°What is it?¡± He whispered.

    ¡°10-15 people. Up ahead, in the opposing alley.¡± She whispered back, this time very, very quietly.

    He stiffened. The memories of the day came back. That was about twice as the number of people who assaulted him before. He didn¡¯t have a weapon and he also needed to protect a child.

    ¡°Other way, back up.¡±

    He did as she asked.

    Then, he tripped over something.

    He landed his ass, a bit of pain blossoming in his rear. He smothered his own cry of surprise, but it would be for naught was whatever destabilized a contraption of sorts. Cling and clangs rang as something fell all around him. He had no idea what it was, being entirely covered in shadow. As he also heard the fluttering of cloth, he wondered if it was a clothing line of sorts.

    ¡°Who¡¯s there?¡± Someone called from the other side.

    Gaia and Richard both froze as someone slowly moved into the light.

    It was a naked woman holding a knife.

    The few rays of moonlight they had suggested the perfect features that all women had in this world. Glimmering, healthy hair. Perfectly smooth skin glistening with sweat, though a little dirty by something. The contours of perky A-cup breasts. Overly skinny arms like a model and a waist so small Richard thought it was getting a little crazy.

    He squinted.

    The longer he looked, the more details came to him. That hair¡­ Despite being beautiful, it was covered in mud. Her hips, chest, and limbs were so skinny and well-defined that she looked like one of those models that starved themselves half-to-death.

    Then, his eyes came to her hand holding the knife. It was a very small knife, perhaps for peeling fruits rather than working with meats. The hands the tools were in were shaking.

    ¡°Who¡¯s there?¡± She repeated, and this time, Richard saw through the fake bravado.

    Richard and Gaia waited, and a few minutes later, she retreated. After that, they quickly and smoothly disentangled themselves and went a different way.

    He was a little in shock. He hadn¡¯t considered it, but there were the poor in a world populated by beautiful women too. His eyes softened as his expression was also saddened. It was the same everywhere, he supposed.

    Then, a thought came to him.

    Aren¡¯t I a time traveler? I know the situation isn¡¯t perfect in the modern world, but it¡¯s at least better by a certain degree. Child mortality rate is lower, economic system is¨Cwell at least no one are slaves, and have certain basic rights.

    Wait, wait, a big complaint is also the centralization of power right?

    What if I¡¯m able to use my intelligence and foresight to gain control over how the world advances and use it for good?

    The moment the thought passed through his mind, he almost laughed. It was clearly one of those passing thoughts that could be categorized better as wishful thinking than anything of concrete worth.

    His expression hardened.

    But that doesn¡¯t mean I can¡¯t try to make an impact.

    As soon as they were far enough, Richard whispered to his companion. At the very least, he wanted more information about this world. ¡°She looked like she was about to keel over.¡±

    ¡°The blessing may be powerful,¡± She said sadly, ¡°But it cannot conquer disease or death.¡±

    ¡°The blessing?¡± He asked.

    ¡°You know, what us women have.¡±

    He paused in his walk. ¡°Wait, you¡¯re aware of it?¡±

    ¡°Well of course we¡¯re aware.¡± She whispered suddenly in front of him again. He had gotten used to it enough to not be surprised. She was silent like a mouse¡­ or rather, a cat. ¡°We¡¯re not blind.¡±

    Appearance was a combination of three things: natural gifts, upkeep, and health. But if it was just an artificial ¡®blessing¡¯¨Cwhatever that meant¨Cthen what did it mean for the hidden qualities the appearance was meant to hint at? ¡°What is it, then? An illusion? Magical makeup?¡±

    ¡°No, no, it goes deeper than even the skin. A burn on the arm could be superficially erased, making her feel that as muscle pain for the rest of her life. An ugly disfigurement could be softened or even removed¡­ I¡¯d look so much cooler with an epic scar.¡± He could almost hear her pout. ¡°In summary, it makes women healthier and prettier as if they were men.¡±

    ¡°So¡­ What is it exactly?¡± He asked. ¡°She could have leprosy and be dying, but look fine on the outside?¡±

    She shushed him quickly. ¡°No,¡± She whispered. ¡°You still have symptoms, just everything that makes you less pretty is reduced a lot and/or moved inside you. Makes certain injuries a pain on women¡­¡± She sighed and he could almost hear the pout. ¡°If only it made everyone buff instead.¡±

    He imagined it. A world full of buff muscle mommies. ¡°...I think I prefer the current world,¡± He finally said. Variety is the spice of life, after all. ¡°How about a world where everyone is healthy and happy instead of magic makeup with some health benefits on the side?¡±

    ¡°Ha! Unfortunately, the gods aren¡¯t that nice. They left that impossibility for women to accomplish.¡±

    ¡°I don¡¯t think that¡¯s impossible.¡±

    There was a moment of silence as Gaia gave no reply. As his words sunk in, a bit of a flush reached his cheeks. Even a child was speechless at his accidental idealism. He wasn¡¯t taking it back, though.

    ¡°If you¡¯re done with your questions,¡± She finally said. ¡°Then we need to be extra quiet. One last stretch until we cross back into the pomerium again and back to my place.¡±

    As he kicked himself for his behavior, he did not see the small smile that grace Gaia¡¯s face in cover of darkness.

 Chapter 4

    Richard stared at the huge, vast complex that was Gaia¡¯s home. Even in the darkness of night he could see that it was three, or even four times as large as Crassa¡¯s just from the front alone. He slowly turned to the sheepish Gaia, the disbelief written so clearly across his face that it was as if carved. He lifted a hand, then pointed at the complex silently.

    ¡°No, this is a normal home for people of our status.¡± Gaia said. ¡°That¡¯s why I was shocked when you said you were in ex-consul Crassa¡¯s domus. It¡¯s not that mine is big, it¡¯s that hers was incredibly small.¡±

    ¡°I thought you said you weren¡¯t wealthy.¡±

    ¡°Yes, in comparison to the other patricians or the wealthy plebs.¡± She explained without missing a beat. ¡°My family¡¯s fallen a great deal since the early years of the republic. We¡¯ve only got our footing recently during my mother¡¯s lifetime and required some lending to get ourselves here.¡±

    ¡°Some lending?¡±

    She gave him a smile, lit by the moonlight.

    ¡°Ah.¡± Enough that random acts of charity with no political gain would probably be frowned upon, I see.

    They were let in by a servant.

    If he had thought Crassa¡¯s home had been luxurious, then Gaia¡¯s was absolutely opulent. Sculpted busts, wall mosaics, decorated tiles, you name the decoration and a lavishly embellished version of it would have been present in some way.

    He turned to her, pointing at the display in silence.

    ¡°I¡¯m not sure how it is where you came from, but nobility must keep a certain facade of wealth even if they¡¯re not as rich in truth.¡± Gaia explained with a whisper, leaning in. ¡°Otherwise, it would be difficult to keep the right allies.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t it bad to tell me?¡± He whispered back.

    ¡°You¡¯re you.¡± She said, ¡°And I¡¯m not going to tell anyone else!¡±

    ¡°Huh.¡± He blinked, a little touched by her trust.

    As they moved deeper into the house, he noticeably saw the amount of wealth on display sharply drop. Walls that he had seen painted with scenes of buildings or scenery in Crassa¡¯s home were instead plain like a sheet of paper. Some places even had unrepaired damage.

    He was led to a room, where two women were waiting on chairs. Odd chairs they were, a sort of cushion on curved wooden X-shaped legs. One of them was more ornate than others and had a back. Atop of this one sat a woman who exuded enough presence that the out of place green hair that the other woman had still couldn¡¯t distract him from the first.

    The aristocratic woman¡¯s physical features resembled Gaia: heart-shaped face, delicate nose, and full lips¡­ no cat ears.

    Perhaps the animal features came from the father? He thought.

    The differences in appearance also obviously included a visible age difference, but far less than he had expected. If he had met her off the street and didn¡¯t know she had a kid as old as Gaia, he¡¯d thought she was an especially well mannered aristocratic teenager. That¡¯s how young she looked.

    I suddenly really want to know her age. Gaia looks twelve and is twelve. Assuming her mother had her when she was 18, then she¡¯d be 29-33 years old right now. Damn, she took care of herself!

    To think of it, if she¡¯s this young looking, then how old are Sulla and Crassa actually? Sixty?

    His gaze finally met her set of dark, onyx eyes that entranced him upon meeting them. Eyes that were currently inspecting him from head to toe.

    He straightened his back, tilted up his head, and clasped his hands in front of himself, trying to catch some of Venuleius¡¯s dignity. How did he look dignified, yet also not threatening? I feel like it had something to do with his posture, but I can¡¯t remember how¡­ He knew he wouldn¡¯t be able to match the husband¡¯s grace, but still tried his best. This was basically a marriage interview after all and he wanted to put his best foot forward for the sake of his future.

    ¡°This is the man, Gaia?¡±

    ¡°Yes, mother.¡±

    Much like Gaia, her mother had the form of a classic beauty using the standards of his world. Unlike Sulla¡¯s brutish power and muscles carved like a marble statue, or Crassa¡¯s short and lithe build, the mother was lean and the loose tunic she wore could not hide her curves as the fabric draped around her waist. Her legs, smooth and long, peeked out from where her clothing stopped beneath the knee. He desperately wished they were shorter, and yet again cursed the standard attire of the women of status and power. He gripped the cloth of his tunic, making sure to keep his libido down.

    ¡°Turn around.¡± The woman said.

    He immediately complied.

    There was silence as he felt the eyes of the women behind him. It was the fourth or fifth time he had been eyed in such a dehumanizing way much to his consternation. He vowed to stare at them secretly five times as much, as to pay them back for this humiliation.

    ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡±

    ¡°Richard Williams.¡± He paused. ¡°Ma¡¯am?¡±

    ¡°Face me.¡± He did so. ¡°I am the mother of the family, a Julii, and I have a friend here, Tribune Floria Pullina who has been looking for a husband.¡±

    Her friend, the other woman in the room, was partially focused on a wooden sculpture she was whittling down with a knife¨Csuch was he taken by Gaia¡¯s mother that he had barely paid her attention. Appearance-wise, she was quite plain. Short, green haired with purple locks and with a sully disposition. Her expressionless face looked¡­ fine.

    No, that was unfair of him. As he looked at her further, he realized that she would have counted as pretty in his world, and he would have even thought out of his league. It is Gaia and her mother¡¯s fault, he discovered. Compared to otherworldly beauties, even good-looking people look average! How unfair!

    His bride-to-be, however, struggled to keep her composure. ¡°I am¡­ Grateful for your intervention.¡±

    ¡°You do not look happy, despite such a gift from your matron, tribune.¡±

    ¡°No, no!¡± The woman hurried. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ compared to what was promised, I can¡¯t help but be a little disappointed by the match.¡±

    ¡°She was to marry Cornelius, son of Lucia Cornelia Cinna. A powerful match to tie her to the family of a rising star.¡± Gaia helpfully explained to him.

    ¡°And what happened? If I may ask.¡±

    ¡°Well, Cornelius doesn¡¯t matter too much, it¡¯s who came before¨C¡° Gaia quickly shut up from one look from her mother.

    ¡°Unfortunately,¡± The mother spoke up, ¡°They retracted his hand at the last minute, just when I was to announce the match at the festival tomorrow. There were some extenuating circumstances. Nothing wrong with the match itself, I assure you.¡±

    That¡¯s quite the bind.

    The Julii matron turned back to Pullina. ¡°And while I don¡¯t see it forward your political ambitions, it will be a favor to me, and a major increase in your prestige.¡±

    Richard struggled not to inch back as Pullina leaned forward to inspect him closer.

    ¡°I can see that he is exotic¨Care those blue eyes? But, his manners, they could definitely be¡­ improved.¡±

    ¡°Nothing that can¡¯t be taught, I was assured by my daughter. He¡¯s said to be a quick learner.¡±

    He shuffled uncomfortably.

    ¡°But still¡­¡± Said Pullina.

    ¡°Oh, have I not mentioned it yet?¡±

    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

    ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°You will have him all to yourself.¡±

    Pullina¡¯s eyes widened, her jaw dropped. ¡°Really?¡±

    ¡°Yes. No one else will marry him as sister-wives, except through your approval.¡±

    Eh?

    The sheer joy that radiated from Pullina was shocking. ¡°By Jumiter, thank you!¡± Her whole body moved as she grabbed her matron¡¯s hand, cusping it vigorously. ¡°Thank you for such a gift.¡±

    A number of questions suddenly sprung up, but there was a more pressing matter he wanted to verbalize.

    This isn¡¯t what Gaia promised. ¡°Why does it sound like I have no choice in the matter?¡± A slip of his voice revealed the underlying anger, slipping underneath accidentally. I thought it¡¯d be just a meeting!

    He met Gaia¡¯s mother¡¯s eyes straight on, as if challenging her. Her jaw obviously tightened. Catching what had just happened, he quickly glanced around to judge the other two¡¯s reactions. Pullina was shocked once more in a manner far less positive, while Gaia looked absolutely stricken.

    ¡°Ill manners, verily,¡± the Julii matron gritted out.

    Being the one recommended by Gaia, he knew instantly that this would also fall on her. While he had technically already lived a life¨Calthough a short one¨Cshe was even younger than he was. Be it protective instincts or the wish to pay her back for what she had done, Richard leapt at any chance to salvage the situation.

    He fell to the ground in a loud bang, kowtowing before her and accidentally hitting his forehead. It was more painful than he thought, and there was sharp pain in his hand. ¡°Forgive me!¡± He screamed at the floor tiles. He had no idea what he was doing, but definitely knew he should start with an apology.

    The women around him exclaimed in surprise, and he continued. ¡°I am but a traveler from a distant land where there are equal sexes and as many men as there are women.¡± He had no idea how he put it together into a coherent message, but this time, he was on a roll. ¡°If it is your custom, then I will bow to you as if you are a king!¡±

    ¡°No, no, please, lift your head.¡± Gaia hurried, crouching at his side. ¡°Mother¨C¡°

    ¡°We have no kings in Rome,¡± the Julii matron said, also having half risen from her seat. ¡°We are no tyrants.¡±

    Yeah right. No tyrants in Rome my ass! But it looks like it worked. ¡°I meant no disrespect! You may have my head if you wish!¡± Argh, but my hand! It throbbed far harder than his forehead. In fact, it felt like he might have cut himself.

    ¡°We will not be executing anyone for simply imprudently worded questions!¡± The woman gasped. ¡°Pullina, Gaia, help him up.¡±

    He heard the sounds of the woman on his right getting up and rushing to his side. At their ministrations, he lifted up his head. The pain from his hand wound had caused tears to well up in his eyes and it was making him harder to focus on where he wanted this conversation to lead.

    He also very clearly noticed that from his position on the ground, he was partially looking up the tunic of Gaia¡¯s mother. He couldn¡¯t see much except for shapes that emboldened the imagination, and even that suddenly lit a flame in him¨Cperhaps even more than actually seeing anything.

    Also she had great thighs.

    Hurriedly, he defaulted to his previous answer to Sulla and Crassa.

    ¡°I am but a noble traveler, lost and far away from my homeland. I had washed up on the shores of France with what meager possessions I had left, and then fallen to the captive hands of dastardly bandits.¡± His tears streaked down his cheek as he tried to blink them away, trying to see better in the darkness between her legs. ¡°I was only able to escape with my life and it was only due to the intervention of your virtuous, kind, and noble daughter that I am even still here. Please, if a wedding is to a Roman barbarian that I have only heard from folklore who would force himself upon any chaste son he wished, then I must at the very least be grateful to keep my life in these savage lands!¡±

    The angle he was working here was multifold. First of all, he would try to appeal to their empathy and compassion. His story didn¡¯t work too well with the others¨Cnot to mention it was difficult to view his masculine self as ¡®weak¡¯¨Cbut at the very least, he thought he could start the conversation in a manner more advantageous to himself. Secondly, he hoped that praise upon Gaia, focusing on her positive attribute, would reduce the heat that came down on her later. Lastly, his portrayal of their actions juxtaposed them with their own hated uncivilized enemies. This should get them to reconsider what they had just done, and then try to prove that they were in fact not equal to the barbarians.

    The Julii matron rose to her full height, removing his sacred view, and walked up to him. Then, she kneeled down with one leg up, spreading the cloth of her tunic and giving him a glimpse of white, perfect thigh flesh. Unfortunately, he saw very little more before she tilted his head up to meet his eyes.

    ¡°Please, stop crying.¡± She murmured gently.

    Aw fuck, if it wasn¡¯t for my hand, I would! He wiped his tears with his good hand. Shit, now it looks like I was faking tears! There¡¯s no way she hadn¡¯t seen through that!

    ¡°I understand that you are very distraught.¡± She continued. ¡°You have gone through so much. Pullina, let¡¯s give him some time. It would not be a good omen if your groom is crying on his wedding day.¡±

    Let¡¯s see if you¡¯ll get a good omen when I shove my foot up your ass!

    The other grown woman nodded mutely.

    ¡°Gaia, please, help your friend with refreshments. Have the servants give him a bath and make sure he gets a good night¡¯s rest.¡±

    Thank god. His racing heart was given some reprieve. She didn¡¯t comment on my poor acting.

    ¡°Tomorrow, you three will go to Vinalia Urbana. The festivities will raise your mood, Rikard, and after better knowing Pullina, I¡¯m sure you will find her a fine wife.¡±

    Oh fuck, it¡¯s just an one-day extension. At least it¡¯s longer than Sulla¡¯s, and at the very least not slavery! He paused. Unless being a husband means becoming your wife¡¯s property¡­ Aw shit. He wouldn¡¯t be surprised if husbands were their wives¡¯ property and had no rights or something. Out from the frying pan and into the fire, he supposed.

    He didn¡¯t let it show on his face and thanked the woman, groveling some more until Gaia pulled him away from the two. The younger girl gripped his arm with both of her own, leading his larger frame down the atrium and deeper, towards where he saw stairs to the upper floors. It seemed like the layout was similar to Crassa¡¯s, if one ignored the sheer size difference.

    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry.¡± Gaia hiccuped.

    ¡°Eh?¡± Shouldn¡¯t I be the one sorry, having almost gotten you into hot water?

    ¡°I don¡¯t know why mom was like that. I¡¯m sorry. I¡¯m so sorry for not seeing how deeply you were scared. I might be a woman, but I should still have been more perceptive.¡±

    He looked down at her. Once again, she looked around twelve. Just a kid. Leading him, her back faced him. ¡°Oh don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m fine¨C¡°

    ¡°You¡¯re not fine! You don¡¯t need to put up a front!¡± She yelled.

    For a moment, he was stunned into silence.

    ¡°If I were you, Rikard¡­ I wouldn¡¯t have known at all what to do. I wouldn¡¯t even have been close to as strong. I can¡¯t believe you could smile in these circumstances.¡± Her voice cracked as she walked.

    Richard didn¡¯t immediately reply, letting her lead. Her ears were flat against her hair, and her tail, drooping. ¡°You¡¯re such a sweetheart.¡±

    The recent happenings were stressful, but to be honest, it wasn¡¯t like his own life had been sunshine and roses before this. He had his fill of unfortunate events, he had his tragedies. Despite being eighteen, he could proudly say he had lived a very eventful life, which as he liked to tell himself, made him far more experienced and ready than most people at his age for life¡¯s bullshit.

    He slowed down, putting a more meaningful resistance to her guidance. Confused, she turned around to face him, allowing him to see her face. Tears streamed down her little cheeks, and her eyes, in the firelight, had a redness to them. She looked even more distraught than he was.

    Using his other arm, he guided her into his embrace, much like Sulla did earlier. ¡°Here, here.¡±

    ¡°And now you¡¯re comforting me¡­¡± She mumbled, sniffling. ¡°I should be the one doing this to you!¡±

    He laughed. It definitely took her for a spin, as she looked up at him with bafflement written across her face. The whole situation, it was so strange to him.

    As his mirth died down, he looked down at her with a smile. ¡°Just your feelings are enough.¡±

    When was the last time someone cared for him in this way, without it being some kind of transient attachment that disappeared as the moon waxed? Perhaps when he was young, he had thought that his mother did¨Cthat she had left him because of a mistake of fate. Watching other children being picked up by their parents, he once found himself lost in dreams of a future that his heart yearned for.

    But that¡¯s just what dreams were. Once you wake up, they end.

    And Richard woke up from his long ago.

    <hr>

    ¡°To think they raised such strong men in his land.¡± Pullinia said to the Julii matron, both having sat back down.

    ¡°A man that I put to tears. Not a good feeling, it is, putting a man to tears.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve had disagreements with your husband before.¡±

    The matron patted her tunic of dust. ¡°So, tell me about the task I had given you. Anything news of interest?¡±

    Pullinia wisely followed the diversion of the conversation. ¡°If I may bring up, the other day I noticed a member of the Appuleia, Lucia¡¯s third daughter, Lucia, enter one of the Antonius¡¯ homes.¡±

    ¡°Lucia¡­?¡±

    ¡°Lucia Appuleia Saturnina, daughter of Lucia Appuleia Saturnina, grand-daughter of Lucia Appuleia Saturnina.¡±

    The matron hummed. ¡°...Which one?¡±

    ¡°Born in the year of Piso and Flacca.¡±

    ¡°Oh! That one, yes.¡± She nodded along, finally determining the right person. ¡°No matter, the allegiances are as expected.¡± It didn¡¯t matter too much who exactly that was.

    ¡°That¡¯s the fourth time in a week.¡± Pullinia pointed out. ¡°You can assume how many times they met where I hadn¡¯t seen them.¡±

    The matron hummed to herself. ¡°The Antonia branch allied with Maria¡­¡± Gaia Maria, now that was a name that was actually important. ¡°Maria, that old lioness, what¡¯s she up to? Or is it someone else tied to her?¡± She muttered.

    ¡°I¡¯ll be happy to help you figure it out.¡±

    ¡°As usual, I appreciate your assistance. Whatever it is, we both know that dangerous, avaricious woman has overachieved during her tenure. It is¡­ unfortunate what¡¯s rumoured to be happening with Queen Mithridates, but Sulla can not be allowed to head east while things are as it is in Rome¡­ For when she returns, she will gain the power and prestige to become what we all fear.¡±

    Pullina took in a sharp breath.

    Queen.

 Chapter 5 Part 1

    Sulla¡¯s morning was bright, early, and painful.

    At first light, she arose, the years of military campaigning having ingrained a rigorous schedule. Dressed in only a loincloth around her waist, she extracted herself from her sheets. However, the entire motion was done through gritted teeth.

    She felt all the consequences of yesterday¡¯s misadventure. There were bruises on her forearms and back where she had taken hits from wooden sticks. A stray hit back when she had charged through the blockade of women had broken at very least one of her ribs. Cuts on her hands when she had climbed over Crassa¡¯s domus to ambush Richard¡¯s attackers. None of these wounds were treated, as she decided to trust her Aspect to deal with it.

    This had nothing to do with bravado. Rather, it was because of where she was.

    It took her a moment to steady herself, before she then firmly stepped away from her bed.

    So he ran. Smart boy. Guards had reported it yesterday to Crassa. She wasn¡¯t too worried about that, he could make his own choices. What mattered to her was what happened after.

    Doves appeared on the window sill of his empty room. Three, in fact¨Csign of the divine. And not just any divinity¡­

    Envoys of Venus.

    How very interesting.

    Quickly, she washed her face in front of a polished bronze mirror. Despite the artisan¡¯s best effort, the surface wasn¡¯t quite flat and displayed the rough, fragmented reflection of a ragged woman. She did her best to clean up. All along, her painfully generous two pairs of breasts tried to make themselves as annoying as possible. They had been part of the reason she was so wounded¨Cif she had a set of less vulgar chest, she could imagine herself being able to weave between the weapons of Sulpicia¡¯s women like she had been able to in her youth. Unfortunately, no amount of contemplation would change the truth and she ended up having to tighten a set of cloth bindings around her outrageously generous chest. She let them be looser than normal, she was too tired for her usual.

    The rise of Sulpicia weighed heavily on her. Her mind picked up on what she felt like was a string of recent losses, despite her famously successful early life. Have I lost the favor of the gods? She wondered. I don¡¯t understand, all I¡¯ve had were good omens until last week.

    Within five minutes she was dressed in her tunic and downstairs. It was early enough that even servants weren¡¯t awake, so she procured her own breakfast from storage and then plated it on silverware. There was white bread made from imported Egyptian grain, procured just last evening, goat cheese aged to expert perfection, and a Greek wine from Lesbos. A luxurious, flavorful meal, but as she forked pieces into her mouth it tasted like sand to her tongue. She knew she would need fuel for the battles ahead even if each bite was a chore to swallow, her tense jaw making it twice as difficult.

    A few minutes later, servants woke up and the domicile became a lot busier. Then, as Sulla finished up, Maria arrived.

    The elderly woman, 69 years of age, was carefully helped down the stairs by her younger husband. Despite being located all the way across the most majestic garden in Rome¨Can entire atrium that stretched five times as large as Sulla¡¯s own¨Cthe open way the building was constructed allowed Sulla a direct sight across the entire well-furnished compound. Not to mention that her years on the field has made her perceptive.

    Sulla cleaned up, and then made herself presentable. She took a deep breath, readying herself. When Maria finally arrived within earshot, Sulla made to be the one to start the greetings, standing up. She forced down the reflexive flinch as her wounds flared in pain. No weakness.

    ¡°Hello Gaia,¡± She said, calling the woman by her first name.

    ¡°I greet you, Lucilia. Did you have a good rest in my home?¡±

    ¡°I appreciate the hospitality. It has been agreeable with me.¡±

    Despite Maria¡¯s age, very little of it showed on her body. Her face still had the barest of wrinkles of a well-kept forty year old woman, and her skin was taut and beautiful¨Cas all women were these days. A little extra fat around the waist was well hidden by her tunic. Lasty, a set of cat ears peaked out from her mane of hair and poking out of her tunic was her tail, the signs of her Aspect. It was only the slight bit of stiffness and the aid of her husband in basic tasks that gave hints towards her true depths of earthly life.

    ¡°Has it?¡± Maria asked, her voice raspy and trembling with age. ¡°I had some doubts, with how you refused my gift so impenitently.¡±

    Sulla''s face froze for a second, before an easier smile plastered itself onto her face. ¡°I¡¯m afraid I¡¯m at the age where a young man¡¯s company does not interest me like it once did.¡±

    ¡°Nonsense, you¡¯re still plenty a young girl in my eyes.¡±

    Towering over the smaller woman, Sulla nodded with a polite smile, tensing up. She had not forgotten her extremely precarious position, and what looked like an offhand comment sounded like it could have meant to be an insult. Sulpicia, her political enemy, had set up violent thugs to harass Sulla and her faction¡¯s supporters. An outrageous act, especially within the pomerium of Rome. However, to counter it, Sulla needed time¨Ctime she didn¡¯t have until Maria offered her doors.

    Soon enough, the knocks at the door happened, and Maria¡¯s servants let in her clients. Maria¡¯s husband who had been silent till now, joined in to greet them. Sulla watched them, remembering the days when she would have led her own clients up to Maria¡¯s doors as early as possible in the morning, engaging in the usual exchange of favors. Nowadays, Sulla found herself at dinners with Maria as equals on the rare times they met instead.

    Sulla watched the guests who entered, staying in the vicinity and calling over servants to bring her pen, ink, and papyrus. She needed to send letters to ready her own women, such that an equal force distribution prevented the continuation of the current onslaught of violence. Doing it here would make it apparent that she was under Maria¡¯s protection and also spread the word, making Sulpicia¡¯s women more wary of assaulting Sulla¡¯ allies while she was setting up. Not to mention that to hide herself completely would make her look cowardly.

    After fifteen minutes of writing, Sulla raised her head from her letters as Maria approached with a number of prominent Roman women. Not on the same social stratum as Sulla, but not far below her either. Enough that none of them were clients of Maria, only allies. Odd timing, as they wouldn¡¯t usually come at such a crowded time.

    They exchanged a short greeting.

    ¡°It feels like just a month ago, that battle!¡± Maria chuckled, recounting one of their tales from the Jugurthine War. War stories were always a hit in Romans circles and a necessity to be a respected politician. ¡°The fighting was so fierce I had to step out onto the field myself!¡± A vigorous retelling for a woman of Maria¡¯s age.

    Sulla¡¯s hand paused from writing momentarily, before continuing.

    ¡°Then, you should have seen Sulla! After my bravery on the left, she was inspired into her own charge. This was before her Aspect, yet she fought like she was possessed by Mars herself!¡± There was a glimmer in Maria¡¯s eyes. ¡°After the battle, she collapsed in my arms, bawling her eyes out from the stress!¡±

    Sulla continued writing, albeit a little slower.

    ¡°Warriors, truly warriors blessed by the gods.¡± One of the listening audience said with polite interest. Crassa. She was here. The woman must have heard it every week.

    Sulla wanted to ask of Rikard, but stilled her tongue.

    ¡°How are your children, Crassa? I hope your middle child¡¯s journey as heir has been fruitful.¡±

    ¡°Decent. Tutors are doing a better job beating in the necessary material than the ludus we had used before.¡± Crassa said.

    ¡°Ah, the education of children. I know that all too well. I joke sometimes that Sulla is my eldest daughter of sorts¨CDon¡¯t let Gaia Maria the younger hear I said that!¡±

    There were some polite chuckles.

    ¡°And,¡± Maria continued, her gaze meeting Sulla¡¯s. ¡°The more things change, the more things stay the same, don¡¯t they? Once a daughter¡­¡± If one looked at Maria¡¯s Aspect traits¨Cthe ears and the tails¨Cand had thought she had the Aspect of the Cat, they only needed to look into her eyes to see they made a grave mistake. Those were the eyes of a lion.

    Sulla¡¯s hand around her reed pen tightened. ¡°If I may.¡± She suddenly interrupted, immediately regretting it. Young woman indeed, the brashness of youth having never entirely left. I wonder if that comment earlier was also meant to be a slight.

    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    The woman''s eyes fell on her as she stretched, before standing up. She took this moment to think about what she actually wanted to say. Her long years with her ¡®friend¡¯ and ¡®matron¡¯ had long since ingrained in her their usual routine¨Ca rivalry built over years of Maria¡¯s mix of favor and attacks. Maria would offer a favor, then riposte her good will with a hidden dagger. Reminding them of their place. Most people took it with grace, being unable to do anything as Maria climbed ever higher on the political ladder. However, someone of Sulla¡¯s position had the ability¨Cno, the need¨Cto deflect it.

    Sulla chose her words carefully. ¡°The partnership¨C¡° She stressed. ¡°¨Cis temporary, aimed to reduce further bloodshed.¡± Not because I¡¯m weak. ¡°As soon as it is settled, I will address the threat of Queen Mithridates. I would like to remind you, well respected nobles of our great republic, that this trifling matter should be dealt with sharply and decisively.¡± Her voice, deep, powerful, fruit of her years as an accomplished orator. ¡°Every day our armies sit idle is another day for the enemies of Rome to prey on our eastern provinces, thieving on our riches and murdering our citizens!¡±

    Crassa nodded approvingly, while numerous of the rabble gave cheers. Those astute enough to pay attention to Maria were silent, and as the cries died down the lioness opened her mouth for yet again.

    This irritating exchange went on well into the morning and when it approached lunch, Sulla finally mustered a strong enough defense force to leave Maria¡¯s abode. Superficial pleasantries were exchanged and Maria left some advice for Sulla.

    ¡°I suggest you leave as soon as possible for the war. I will take care of matters here, while you must go and defend Rome¡¯s honor in the East.¡± She said. ¡°Rome sees your weakness and the tides turn against you. Only one path remains.¡±

    At that point, the anger barely contained within Sulla¡¯s breast was ready to boil over. It was only her years of experience weathering Maria¡¯s barrages that kept her from making a scene and the rational part of her mind knew that she needed the egoist elderly woman¡¯s even meager support. Her political situation was on thin ice and any more enemies could sink her entirely.

    Back in her own home, she finally let out a sigh of relief. The stress had not been good on her old shoulders, not to mention her hips. There was a wound there that flared up from time to time, having not healed correctly. There was nothing more that she wanted than to finally go get everything treated¨Cthere was a cut on her inner thigh that she had only noticed on the way home and it had been bothering her. Food to refuel, she hadn¡¯t been able to eat anything after breakfast with how worried she was about Maria¡¯s true intentions. Some sleep if possible, but she doubted that her mountain of neglected work that had grown since her election as consul could wait. Sulpicia¡¯s pressure made it impossible to work on her other duties.

    The ruffling of many footsteps wrecked all her plans.

    Her closest allies arrived to greet her, each with great joyous smiles. She threw one up too, hiding the fact that she felt she was about to break. They should be somewhere else, having almost definitely received the letters she had sent this morning.

    There was only one reason they were here instead.

    That was fine, she¡¯d be damned if she shattered her sense of invincibility.

    ¡°Ha! Not even an army can take down the old bull, can they?¡± One of them said.

    Her impassive eyes stared down at the shorter women¨Ceveryone was short when you were as tall as Sulla. ¡°You overestimate me, friend.¡± She rolled her shoulders, flexing her powerful triceps in a subtle reminder of her physical prowess.

    ¡°That Maria! Outrageous! Who does that hangdog think she is?¡± One of her most loyal centurions muttered. She had been part of her retinue when she had left Maria¡¯s home.

    ¡°The smartest and most powerful woman in Rome, I suppose.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, but that doesn¡¯t make her king. I better burn some incense for Priapus so that thief gets what she is due. Though I¡¯m pretty sure she already takes a penis up her ancient, gaping arsehole every night with that husband of hers.¡±

    Sulla gave her supporter a disapproving look without much heat. ¡°Crasticia.¡± She lightly chided. Then, she picked up a cup from a nearby servant¡¯s plate and sipped some wine from it. Resting on one of her reclining furniture couches, she tried to let go of some of the tension from herself, but found herself unable to with how much weighed on her shoulders. ¡°What of my twins?¡±

    ¡°...They¡¯re safe. They¡­¡± Crasticia looked askance. ¡°They were very worried for you, Sulla.¡±

    She didn¡¯t visibly react at her centurion¡¯s white-faced lie. The pang in her heart was not fleeting, merely scabbed. I need that nap. She decided, resisting a heavy sigh that threatened to reveal the true depths of her misery.

    ¡°A letter for Lucilia Cornelia Sulla Felicia!¡± A messenger gasped, exhausted, entering the atrium. ¡°Dear aunt, urgent message from the troops in Nola!¡±

    Sulla was about to lose the last bit of composure she had. I¡¯m not going to die on the battlefield, she thought, I¡¯m going to die from these fucking, wretched rats and worms and their backroom deals. ¡°Yes? I¡¯m here.¡± She sat up, sitting straighter, pushing further on.

    The messenger gave her the letter and she saw the seal. It was from the commander she left in charge. Opening it, she did a quick read. Every line she read made her exhaustion worse.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Her centurion echoed and a number of other supporters and servants with them looked just as interested.

    Unfortunately for her, no matter what she felt, she knew not even an ounce could appear on her face. ¡°Nothing to concern yourself with yet.¡± It took all she had at the moment to keep up the facade. The tremble of her hands was stopped by sheer will.

    There were rumors¨Ctrustworthy ones¨Cof mutiny in her troops.

    While she waited here trying to sort out the political situation in Rome, the pacification force she had raised and stationed in Nola were far too eager to march east. Some for riches, some to save their countrymen, some agents of her enemies. They were all roaring for blood. Every moment of inaction made them more and more restless.

    She could feel herself breaking apart at the seams.

    ¡°I will take care of it in just a moment.¡± She turned to her audience. ¡°You all have your orders, go!¡± She commanded. A bit of her desperation must have leaked into her voice, as it sounded more like a bark.

    They hurriedly scattered, leaving just the centurion Crasticia and a few loyal servants.

    Sulla shifted to get up, a groan slipping away from her lips. The centurion hurried to her side, but she slapped her hands away. ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡±

    ¡°I know, but it¡¯s only right to be worried, isn¡¯t it?¡± Crasticia laughed, ever clueless. ¡°Still, I know there¡¯s a lot on your shoulders. You¡¯ve been sleeping even less now that you are consul. If there¡¯s anything I can do¡­¡± Or perhaps less clueless than she thought.

    Crasticia might be her most loyal soldier, great tactician, and a very capable swordswoman, but she had some glaring weaknesses. Since the centurion had access to her innermost circle, Sulla knew that her facade must be even more perfect than usual and let nothing slip. Sulla would have loved to send Crasticia away too, but she did need someone to guard her while she was in this state. If only I didn¡¯t have to send praetor Tappo to Nola.

    ¡°As you know, the power of a consul is meant to be used wisely,¡± She said, careful not to answer her offer, ¡°Unlike someone else, who acts like a spoiled, petulant child who was told ¡®no¡¯ for the first time.¡± They both knew who she was referring to.

    ¡°The mos maiorum bleeds with a mortal wound.¡± Crasticia said gravely.

    ¡°Perhaps it is already dead.¡±

    Sulla felt like she was on a precipice. All her physical power did little against such a political dilemma. Every time she thought she had hit her lowest, it seemed there was always deeper. The shake in her left hand came back and she forced it to stop by using her other. Facing war on two fronts, she felt like her forces were crushed against each other and slowly decimated.

    Is this my Cannae?

    Surprising her, Sulla watched as Crasticia went into deep thought, holding up her chin with her hand. Again, Sulla was not expecting anything from her politically, but there were times where she had been surprised. The younger woman had a quick and sharp mind on the battlefield, as fast and accurate as her pilum. She had given her fair share of good ideas, despite not being as well educated as Sulla was.

    ¡°I have a suggestion, consul Sulla.¡±

    ¡°Go on.¡± Sulla was a little more eager than usual to hear. She felt worn to her bones. She raised her cup once more, sipping some diluted wine.

    ¡°I think you need to fuck a pretty, young man.¡±

    She spat her drink into Crasticia¡¯s face.

    Her centurion looked at her, unimpressed. She asked a nearby servant for something to wipe herself with. ¡°A good thorough railing will clear your mind.¡±

    And here am I thinking about the grave political checkmate I¡¯ve been placed in, while you¡¯re just thinking with your cunt?! ¡°Too much sensual pleasure is what dull one¡¯s mind, Bubulia.¡± Sulla said with great dignity.

    Crasticia wiped her face with the towel a male servant gave her. She gave the man a grin, before turning back to her matron. ¡°We¡¯re women¨Cif you don¡¯t act on your urges sometimes, you¡¯re only defying the natural order of things. You¡¯re just hurting yourself in the long run.¡±

    Sulla sighed. ¡°Fine. As long as they¡¯re from my usual picks.¡±

    Crasticia blinked. ¡°Aren¡¯t they better if they¡¯re young?¡±

    Anger flared in her, but she made sure it didn¡¯t show. ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°Isn¡¯t that why you tried to buy that exotic boy you found from Crassa¨C¡°

    ¡°That¡¯s not it!¡± Sulla roared.

    The servants who had been milling around stilled, all looking at her. Crasticia looked absolutely taken back. Sulla sighed, realizing her exhaustion had gotten the better of her. A grave mistake¨Cone that would haunt her and she knew it. ¡°That¡¯s not it.¡± She said again at a normal volume.

    ¡°I do need a break.¡± She said, suddenly standing up. ¡°Get some of the women, they¡¯re coming with me. I had forgotten I had an appointment then with all the chaos.¡±

    I must seek the gods¡¯ favor once more.

    ¡°The festival¡­¡± Crasticia brightened up. ¡°Vinalia Urbana! Good wine and slutty men?! Wait, take me!¡±

    ¡°No, you¡¯re staying here and you¡¯ll think of ways to pacify the women at Nola.¡± She heard the anguished cries of her centurion as she moved towards the entrance. If Crasticia wanted to enjoy the festival, she should have better learned to keep her mouth shut.

    As Sulla stepped out of her home, she was surrounded by a retinue of her clients. All people who owed their lives and livelihood to her. Women she had fought side by side, who had stood by her at her greatest triumphs and suffered with her at her most humiliating defeats. They chattered and verbally offered her their supposedly most sincere support.

    She replied with the most basic of pleasantries.

 Chapter 5 Part 2

    It wasn¡¯t yet noon and Richard was already sick of the crowd.

    Having been woken up by a chattering Gaia at who knows what hour, food¨Cbread, fruits, cheese, some wine¨Cwas force fed into his half-asleep self. Then, before his bleary eyes could determine the difference between a column five feet to the left and a column he was about to hit, he was dragged by two excited members of the female sex down to the horrors of the waking day.

    And now, stuck in a sweaty crowd of women dressed to the nines in their damn curtains, not even the cool morning air was helping him breathe better. It stank of body odor and who knows what else. Cramped, every jostle made him bump into someone else.

    ¡°Has it started yet?¡± Gaia hopped up, trying to see.

    ¡°No.¡± Richard groaned.

    Not that the average Roman usually stank. Over their heads was the hot, midday sun, ready to turn the crowd into jerky, and it was its burning gaze that was the primary culprit for his current predicament. Even the bandages around the hand he had cut open yesterday¨Cit had been provided to him after requesting it¨Cwere sticky. All this heat, sweat, and congestion made his mind murky, making it far harder to consider his primary objective today.

    His primary objective being to determine a way to generate leverage.

    He had considered what happened yesterday. How the women of power, Crassa and Sulla, so easily had his fate in their hands. When considering a paradise of horny, hot women, what first came to Richard¡¯s mind was obviously the physical: impossibly attractive bodies and a desire for sex. What he hadn¡¯t considered was how exactly the people in a ¡®paradise¡¯ would act. Sure, they were hot, but just because they desired him and had great looks did not mean they had his best interests in mind. What was good for their short-term selfish desires meant little for him, be it his safety, his freedom, or his long-term well-being. He didn¡¯t want to be used and abused for their amusement, and then once they got bored of him, discarded like trash. He had to have something over them, something to make them treat him with actual dignity.

    To be honest he would have thought ¡®paradise¡¯ would include not making the place a hell for men, but clearly, the wording of the original ¡®wish¡¯ perhaps wasn¡¯t done in that way. Or maybe the goddess just didn¡¯t care¨Cwhich he wouldn¡¯t be surprised about.

    Back on topic, in the real world, he could usually count on being treated with a certain degree of decency. This was a result of the education ministry, police system, and constitutions that guaranteed basic rights. At the most basic level, universal education helped teach children certain values like camaraderie, trust, and the consequences of betrayal, all learnings that would impact their work as adults. Police, while not being an infallible system, at the very least kept a blanket of security over the populace. Maybe this blanket was full of holes, but just knowing it was there made many feel safer in their homes. Now, Richard hadn¡¯t thought much about how much even the presence of police officers made it harder for people to step out of line, but now that he was somewhere where they didn¡¯t exist, he suddenly found their absence horrifying. No basic rights, not even an apartment building filled with rats and drug addicts. Or at least, that¡¯s how he imagined homeless shelters to be like¨Che¡¯d never known.

    But he had been threatened with it before.

    He shivered despite the heat, putting his arms around himself. I want leverage. I need leverage.

    ¡°Like I had mentioned, it¡¯s not the place for a man to be,¡± said Pullina, standing on his right uncomfortably close. ¡°It¡¯s too crowded, too rowdy.¡±

    ¡°But he comes from so far away! Wouldn¡¯t it be interesting for him to see?¡± Gaia looked absolutely delighted to be here. She was bouncing on the balls of her feet, and excitedly looking around despite being unable to see absolutely anything.

    ¡°Do you want me to pick you up onto my shoulders?¡± He asked.

    ¡°We¡¯re here to appease the gods, Julia Minor.¡± Pullina admonished, interjecting. ¡°Not to have a dinner celebration.¡±

    Gaia stared at Pullina through Richard.

    ¡°...We will have a dinner celebration later, but not now.¡± The woman amended.

    At Gaia¡¯s pout, Richard gave a laugh and ruffled her hair. She cried indignantly, saying something about her being a big mature woman. ¡°There will be time for food later. I¡¯m very curious to see how it will all work, so I share your enthusiasm, Gaia.¡± And he really did. ¡°Thank you for taking me.¡±

    Pullina sighed. Probably because she had to chaperon a child, he assumed.

    ¡°Rikard.¡± Pullina suddenly said.

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°I have¡­ something for you.¡±

    The strange pause in Pullina¡¯s voice made him turn to her. She was shorter than him, and with how close they were currently, he could feel her breath. He flinched, having brushed his teeth using a frayed wooden stick this morning and their strange paste. Their old Roman process didn¡¯t leave the fresh minty feeling he was used to. Therefore, he kept his head at an angle, hoping she couldn¡¯t smell anything.

    ¡°Oh?¡±

    She reached into her toga, underneath her cloaked arm, and extracted a set of folded cloths. Vibrant green and well designed, it looked like one he¡¯d see at an Ikea. ¡°It¡¯s a palla. For wearing outside.¡±

    He took it from her, a little confused. ¡°...Thank you?¡±

    As he watched her, he noticed the slight details he had missed at first glance. A faint flush was on her neck, and her right hand fidgeted with the rims of her toga. The toga she wore was also quite nice with its turquoise patterns, making him wonder if it was the best she had.

    Oh.

    She was trying to woo him with gifts.

    It was strange being the one getting courted, though he had never gifted any girls anything on the very first date. That would seem a little much to him. He supposed she was pulling all the stops, trying to make him feel good about marrying her. It wasn¡¯t as if she needed to, so holding onto the gift, it did make him feel a little warmer inside.

    She must be pretty nervous, he thought. After all, he had his fair share of experience being on that side of the equation. Would jewelry on the six month anniversary seem too heavy of a gift? Is the jewelry he chose tacky? Was it too cheap? Was it too expensive? Familiar fears of the giftee, a path he¡¯s walked often enough.

    He gave her his best smile, trying to assuage her fears. ¡°Thank you, Pullina, it''s a very beautiful color.¡± Dyes at this time must be expensive, especially ones as bright as this.

    Her face lit up. ¡°Yes! Erm.¡± She paused. She looked like she wanted to say something.

    Honestly, it¡¯s strange seeing a woman who¡¯s maybe in her thirties look so uncertain. It¡¯s like I¡¯m her first date or something! He watched as her eyes fell on the cloth he was holding, and he made a guess. ¡°May I ask where it¡¯s from?¡± He said kindly.

    ¡±The dye¨Cthe dye is very rare. It is imported from the east. I was talking to the merchant, did you know¡­¡± It was fine at the beginning, but then she started blurting some stuff out. A whole ten minute story, a little too stretched out, about a caravan that had gotten attacked by Parthian bandits. Seems like they came all the way from the Han Empire¨Cwherever that was. He put on a polite smile the whole time, making sure to ask the right questions where she left the room to. The story sounded like it could be interesting, it just wasn¡¯t when it came from her mouth.

    Well, that¡¯s fine. There¡¯s two people in a conversation after all. ¡°So, it sounds like you know a lot about commerce. Your family involved?¡± He said, diverting the conversation to hopefully somewhere more interesting.

    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

    ¡°Oh, um, yes. Sort of. You see, we own several major plots of land. And¡­¡±

    Pullina said something, but he felt a sudden tug on his clothing from his left. He looked back reflexively and saw Gaia. One of her hands was the culprit, pinching the cloth of his tunic from the very bottom rim. The moment she noticed him, she let go as if it was fire.

    ¡°Yes, what is it, Gaia?¡±

    ¡°Um¡­¡± She wasn¡¯t looking up to his eyes. ¡°Nothing¡­¡±

    ¡°Nothing?¡± He replied in confusion.

    Suddenly, there were shouts for people to quiet down, grabbing his attention.

    Soon enough, the crowd simmered down as the doors to a building at the far side opened. Out came a procession of priestesses with a snow-white bull. Much to his consternation they didn¡¯t wear skimpy clothing, only the white toga that at this point he was pretty much sick of. Behind them were a number of priests who carried a well-decorated jug. As the crowd parted to let them pass in the middle, the priestesses who led the procession started a hymn. To his surprise, the entire crowd followed along. He mouthed the words.

    The hymn involved praises of Jumiter being the strongest and greatest. Something about the seasons and also promises of a good harvest later in the year. He assumed it was their version of Jupiter, the Roman Zeus, which was quite odd to him as some names were kept from his world¡¯s history up to now, like, well, the ¡®Romans¡¯. He supposed becoming a society in which women ruled and were the majority did result in some changes. The famous men he remembered like Julius Caesar and Augustus were probably also never given a chance at reaching their heights, if they were even born.

    He also took the chance to wrap the palla, Pullina¡¯s gift, around himself. Gaia suggested for him to drape it over his hair for modesty and then also instructed him to envelop his whole body rather than just hanging one side over an arm like the toga.

    Then, the procession started walking up the nearby hill. The crowd followed with their chanting, everyone bumping into each other. He adjusted his palla and shuffled along. It wasn¡¯t so easy moving in their strange clothing, and at one point, he accidentally tripped over something. Instead of falling flat on his face, he caught Gaia¡¯s reactive hand. He also thanked Pullina, who had reached out too at the same time.

    As they reached the top, several of the temples he had seen before came into view and his breath caught. Majestic buildings with columns as wide as several men holding hand to hand stood before him, with the largest located right at the center. They had no cranes, no machines, and in that moment, Richard was dumbstruck. He thought it might have been what the people who had first seen the pyramids have felt like, albeit at a smaller scale.

    Rather than the white structures he was expecting, he found them colorful as can be. The central, largest structure with its triangular roof was covered in golden colors, as if the entire towering building was molded from gold itself. On the columns and every surface, it was decorated from top to bottom with intricate carvings. Far smaller temples, on the left and right, had their own color schemes, perhaps related closely to whatever gods they worshiped.

    Okay, I know they call themselves Romans, but it could be a mistranslation from the goddess, right? Though I¡¯m not a scholar of history, even I know that the great Roman temples were white, not¡­ He licked his dry lips, closing his mouth that he hadn¡¯t noticed open. Not goddamn artistic marvels!

    The procession moved closer and his eyes were filled with wonder. They passed statues, tall depictions of four or even five men, each carved so lifelike that he wouldn¡¯t have been surprised if they leapt off their pedestal. He had seen medieval art before and had a far more diminished expectation of Roman art. This completely blew his expectations out of the water. Was there a period of regression after the fall of the Roman Empire? He couldn¡¯t help but think. Or maybe I¡¯m really correct and this isn¡¯t the real Romans at all!

    They finally came to a stop in front of an altar just before the great golden temple. ¡°Jumiter Optima Maxima! Jumiter Optima Maxima!¡± They chanted repeatedly.

    That makes sense, king¨Cqueen?¨Cof the gods and all that. He looked around at the statues, many of them partially disrobed to his modern sensibilities. Unfortunately, he wasn¡¯t able to immediately point out which one was of sexy, female Jupiter. She¡¯s gotta have big boobs, right? Mother of the gods, after all! Has to have boobs!

    The next bit he unfortunately couldn¡¯t see too well. More talking, some call and response type of rituals, and then the priestesses scattered around incense and raised some items too small for him to see. Then, they brought the white bull onto the pedestal, and before the temple of Jumiter, sacrificed it to the god of the heavens.

    Richard flinched a little as the blood dripped down the altar. It was one thing to cook red meat, something else to watch an animal get its throat sliced in front of you, several dozens of meters away.

    ¡°Why to Jumiter?¡± He whispered to Gaia. No one else was completely silent, so he assumed questions would be fine.

    ¡°The harvest of grapes, like all agriculture, greatly depends on the weather.¡±

    ¡°Oh, yeah, that does make sense.¡± Heavens, skies, weather. All related.

    Then, the priests brought the jar they were carrying. It was large, about half the size of a person, skinny, and had two handles. The head priestess had them all chanting hymns again, this time also including a few lines about Venus.

    Venus?! Richard¡¯s spotty memory remembered the sexual allure of the goddess that he had met after death. Could that be her?! She¡¯s the stereotypical sexy goddess of love, after all! He paused, thinking, not sure what to do with that information. Could there be something in her mythology I could use as leverage against a goddess? Some great weakness or desire I can fulfill? Not being that big of a mythology wiz, he came up empty.

    The priestess used a ladle to spoon out some of the liquid. Then, he poured it out before the crowd as a libation for Jumiter.

    Richard stroked his chin. He could understand how burning things was a religious ritual to send objects to the afterlife or to gods, but sacrifices and dumping out liquids onto the ground¡­ Wasn¡¯t it obvious it didn¡¯t go anywhere but stay in the mortal realm? Like, it was right there. It hadn¡¯t gone to heaven, it had gone to waste.

    This question, however, he was certainly not going to voice out loud.

    ¡°So, what now?¡± Richard asked. There didn¡¯t seem to be any immediate happenings, as the priestess just stood there at the front with the rest of the religious proceeding.

    Gaia, as usual, was happy to answer for him. ¡°Now, whoever cares enough to pay the most money gets to do the first tasting of the first sacred batch of wine. They get to be blessed or whatever.¡±

    ¡°Whoever is chosen by augury,¡± Pullina corrected.

    ¡°The secret auguries that are performed by the priestesses?¡± Gaia said.

    ¡°Well, yes.¡±

    ¡°The priestesses that owe their positions to powerful pontiffs from incredibly affluent families?¡±

    ¡°I¨CGaia.¡± Pullina said, affronted.

    ¡°The strangely rich pontiffs who rack in coins despite committing their times to doing penniless rituals?¡±

    ¡°Julia Minor,¡± Pullina warned, ¡°Your aunt is a priestess of Venus, how dare you speak of the institution in such a way?¡±

    Gaia smirked. ¡°It¡¯s because she¡¯s in the family that I know ¨C¡°

    Richard covered Gaia¡¯s mouth. He turned to Pullina, an apologetic expression on his face. ¡°You know children, they like to speak of things they don¡¯t understand.¡± Gaia struggled in his grip, still trying to talk.

    ¡°Hmph.¡± Pullina brow was furrowed with displeasure. ¡°I don¡¯t care what you believe, but speaking of it during the ritual is dangerous.¡±

    Oh shit, it isn¡¯t like Islam is it? ¡°You¡¯re saying she could get beat up for heresy?¡±

    Pullina looked at him with a little confusion. ¡°I have not heard of that word, ¡®heresy¡¯, but I¡¯m only afraid that she will bring the fury of the gods upon Rome. The gods are fickle beings, we must be on our guard.¡±

    That¡¯s¡­ That¡¯s quite curious. That¡¯s very different to how religion is in the modern day. He was prevented from further thinking when Gaia bit his hand. ¡°Ow! F¨Cfarmers, what the heck, Gaia?!¡±

    ¡°Look! Look! Here comes the first sucker to get a made up blessing! She must have paid tons!¡± She said.

    The color drained from his face as he watched an incredibly tall, horned woman push her way through the crowd. There were a number of women with her, probably guards. The group was a good distance away, so he quickly threw his palla higher to cover part of his face and crouched downwards.

    Sulla. Sulla¡¯s fucking here! Oh fuck, oh shit!

    ¡°What is it? Is the sun too bright?¡± Pullina asked worriedly. ¡°I told you it¡¯d be too much on such a hot day for a man.¡± She hissed at Gaia.

    ¡°No way, he was having lots of fun, didn¡¯t you see his face?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not supposed to be fun! It¡¯s useful.¡± Pullina groaned. ¡°And¨C¡°

    ¡°Then maybe it¡¯s just because you¡¯re ugly.¡±

    Pullina¡¯s eye twitched.

    Richard couldn¡¯t see where Sulla had gone now, but he was certainly unwilling to stay for any longer. ¡°I am a little hot, could we go now?¡± He whispered to Pullina.

    ¡°I knew it.¡± The woman pulled the palla over him to help block the sunlight, having to reach up because of their height difference. ¡°And I was afraid of it. Leaving in the middle would be a grave insult¡­ unless you have heatstroke. How bad is it?¡± She sounded actually worried.

    He mulled over immediately fainting.

    The crowd started chanting once more, and he slowly raised his head to peek at the ongoing ceremony. Another ladle full of wine was taken from the jar, and the priestesses were now dancing around the head priestess and Sulla. Once they had finished their ritual, Sulla bent over to drink from the ladle they extended towards her.

    Rather than applause, there were only murmurs as the head priestess sealed the deal with some final words.

 Chapter 5 Part 3

    Sulla waited with baited breath as the priestess finished the ritual. Unbeknownst to all witnesses, she was tense all over enough that she felt sick. Her military discipline made nothing show on her stoic face, but that did not mean her stomach was not tying itself into knots.

    The priestess of Jumiter waved her closer. Sulla leaned down such that the much smaller woman could whisper in her ear.

    ¡°The signs show the seer saw well.¡±

    It took all Sulla had to not flinch away.

    She could see it still. Those days long ago, back on the rainy banks of the Euphrates where two nations first met underneath a brewing storm. The flash of lightning, the biting wind. There, a mysterious witch found himself in her camp. Her soldiers brandishing their spears and swords in fear at the bizarre, lone cloaked man, her own rising curiosity.

    His words flashed at her from her memories, like a viper striking from the dark.

    ¡°I see it clear as the noonday sun, mortal, the strings weaved by the Fates.¡± As skies poured and crackled, they lit the lone figure with an unearthly glow. ¡°At the height of your fame and fortune, Sulla of Rome, you will be struck down from the highest heights to the darkest depths of the underworld. Be warned!¡±

    She broke out of her memories with enough suddenness that she staggered.

    Tripping over her own feet, the towering giant of a woman fell back. She landed in the thin streak of wine created by the priestess¡¯ libations with a heavy, resounding crash as if an obelisk had been tipped over. She barely noticed, her thoughts a jumbled mess. Her attendants and guards hurried to her. She threw them off easily with one powerful swing, hurrying to her feet, and even in her dazed state she knew she was played for a fool.

    It¡¯s a trick. She told herself. A psychological trick, just as powerful if spoken from a god or just a man.

    Still dizzy, she turned to the crowd behind her, knowing she needed to leave before she made a further fool of herself. Insects of the human sort screeched and scratched beside her, and she rid herself of them with a mighty push. She was only dimly aware of the dozens of women thrown about by her actions, violence that was ingrained in her very being simmering beneath the surface of her battle-worn yet beautiful skin.

    And it was there, in the crowd of white and more white, that something stood out to her frazzled self. One flash of color, one set of eyes, blue like the ocean.

    An irrational thought dug itself into her skull.

    <hr>

    Richard watched with horrified eyes as his gaze met Sulla¡¯s fifty meters away.

    He ducked down. No fucking way. There¡¯s no fucking way! There¡¯s like a thousand fucking people here, how the hell would she see me?! Something came to him. Wait, is it the palla?! It¡¯s bright green, and everyone here is wearing white togas! Oh fuck, no that makes sense! Still, it didn¡¯t mean she recognized him, he reasoned. She was distant after all and he had most of his head covered by the woven cloth. ¡°We need to go,¡± He whispered to his two companions. ¡°I¡¯m very sick. The sun, it¡¯s very strong. Very strong sun.¡±

    Pullina blinked. His sudden eagerness seemed to have surprised her. ¡°...Is there something else wrong?¡± She asked.

    Aw come on!

    ¡°You heard the boy,¡± Gaia said, ¡°I listen to what boys say. Let¡¯s go.¡± She grabbed his hand and pulled him along, pushing through the people behind them. He heard Pullina growl, but followed behind them too.

    Behind them, Richard heard the shuffling and rustling as people got out of the way of a pursuing Sulla. He did not look back, merely wrapping his palla tighter around his face. As he was pulled along by the two females, he heard some distant grunts behind him. They escalated into full blown shouts as someone very tall and very large seemed to be shoving her way through.

    ¡°Why¡¯s consul Sulla¡­?¡± Pullina questioned, stopping for a second. Richard who caught up pushed her forward, not even sure how he should start explaining. He wouldn¡¯t get a chance, as he felt a strong arm grab onto his shoulder and forcefully spun him around. Another hand grabbed at the green, expensive cloth wrapped around his face, and thinking of Pullina, he hesitated from resisting. That allowed Sulla to reveal him to her in one swift pull, like a grand reveal.

    The great horned woman eyed the trio. Her ever stiff face, carved from stone, gave away little of what she was thinking. ¡°The little bird knows well which nests to seek refuge in, doesn¡¯t he?¡±

    ¡°Hail consul Sulla,¡± Pullina greeted, ¡°I hope your day has been well.¡±

    Gaia didn¡¯t greet her, merely looking at her impatiently. ¡°What do you want?¡± Richard was stunned and frozen, unable to chide her for her rudeness. Pullina shot her a warning look, but was blocked from doing more by Richard who was in between the two.

    ¡°Thank you, tribune.¡± Sulla grunted. ¡°I was having a great day until a thieving cat, mischievous and blind to her own irrelevancy, decided to poach my prey.¡±

    ¡°Who?¡± Gaia looked around, her tail wagging.

    Sulla took a step to the side such that her shadow fell upon the far smaller girl. ¡°Don¡¯t think you¡¯re too old to be punished, child.¡±

    ¡°Wait, wait¨Cthe thieving cat was me?!¡± She cried. ¡°What did I steal?!¡± Richard flinched at the sudden volume, making everyone take notice. ¡°Are you saying¨C¡° She gasped with so much drama she could have filled a full episode of a soap opera. ¡°I stole your man?!¡±

    Murmurs arose around them. Only some of which were towards Gaia¡¯s conduct.

    Sulla took one step forward and all three flinched.

    Richard had no idea what was happening. He also had no idea how the women even operated while underneath Sulla¡¯s presence. Just being near her it felt like he was suffocating while she was in this mood.

    Pullina stepped up before him. ¡°Consul, if I may,¡± she said.

    Pullina?!

    ¡°I sincerely apologize for Julii Minor, it is my responsibility as her elder to teach her correctly. I have wronged you, consul.¡± Sulla opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, Pullina continued. ¡°However¨C¡°

    ¡°However?¡± Sulla¡¯s expressionless face was the slightest bit taken back.

    ¡°Are you related or are his matron?¡±

    ¡°No.¡±

    ¡°May I ask if he¡¯s your prospective husband?¡±

    Sulla snorted.

    ¡°Are you marrying him to any of your family members?¡±

    She looked insulted, grunting. ¡°Sooner would Pluto relinquish the underworld than would I have him marry my daughters.¡±

    ¡°Then, it looks like you have little stakes in this matter. I am in fact in the process of courting for the fair man¡¯s hand, as to give him upon honors his barbarous origins could not have bestowed to him.¡±

    Sulla watched Pullina carefully. ¡°...You¡¯re courting this barbarian?¡±

    ¡°I have fallen in love.¡±

    Richard stared at the plain woman. Some gears started turning in his head and then immediately derailed and exploded.

    Sulla laughed her humorless laugh. Her stiff facial muscles barely budged. ¡°Bah! Mere transient lust, and you call it love?¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Pullina said with straightforward surety. She turned to him. ¡°If I may, I have even composed a poem.¡±

    ¡°A poem?¡± Richard croaked.

    ¡°Your raven hair, a midnight sky,

    Where sapphire stars, your blue eyes lie.

    A face carved sharp, a northern grace,

    My heart you stole, and left no trace,

    Except this warmth, this burning bright,

    A love for you, both day and night.¡± She recited.

    Richard felt like he died right there.

    ¡°You wish to woo a barbarian with poetry?¡± Sulla said incredulously.

    ¡°As long as it shows my sincerity.¡± Pullina said. ¡°And the depths of my love.¡±

    Richard twitched.

    Sulla studied her, her gaze darting from the stubborn set of her jaw to the way her foot tapped an impatient rhythm against the ground. Each micro-expression, each minuscule movement, was a piece of data she desperately tried to analyze, searching for a crack in her armor, an opening for an argument to slip through her defense.

    Her eyes flickered to Gaia momentarily.

    Finally, she exhaled thoughtfully. ¡°Then, I must make my leave.¡±

    The tension in Richard¡¯s shoulders evaporated.

    ¡°However,¡± Sulla continued, making Richard tense up once more, ¡°As a show of my blessing upon this potential union, I invite you to a banquet in my home for the evening.¡± She tossed the green palla back to Richard. Much to his shock, she spun on her heels and left with her entourage. She didn¡¯t even wait for a reply. Richard glanced at Pullina, but she was also just as shaken.

    The crowd around them, who had been there to watch the show and hoping for a blood bath, started dispersing with disappointment.

    Richard had not wrapped his mind around the entire situation yet, but he already knew in his gut that Pullina had just pulled a miracle. ¡°Pullina¡­¡± He started, before she suddenly collapsed to her knees. ¡°Pullina!¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine, I¡¯m fine!¡± She said, ¡°My legs just gave away. And my heart¨Cit feels like it¡¯s about to burst.¡±

    ¡°Oh, how I know how you feel¡­¡± Richard muttered. ¡°I assume that the banquet invitation¡­ It was more of a command?¡±

    Pullina shakily nodded from the floor.

    ¡°And you!¡± He turned to Gaia, who was just rubbing the top of her head with a pout. At her name she perked up before wincing as she saw his face. ¡°You idiot! Your mouth is going to get you killed someday!¡±

    ¡°But¨C!¡±

    ¡°No buts young lady!¡± Richard reached forward and yanked her right ear. He continued talking as she yelped in pain. ¡°I never want to see you do that again, understood? Don¡¯t piss ¨Cdon¡¯t anger important people for no reason!¡±

    ¡°But it wasn¡¯t for no reason!¡± She whined. ¡°She clearly wanted to take you away! You¡¯re not some object she can just steal¨C¡°

    ¡°Then let me fight my battles.¡± He interrupted her. ¡°I¡¯ll ask for help if I need it, but you need to stop risking yourself for me. Yesterday¨Cyou didn¡¯t even give me a choice. Do you know how I felt?!¡±

    She looked stunned. ¡°Didn¡¯t you feel¡­ happy?¡±

    ¡°Yes I was happy that you cared enough,¡± He admitted, letting go of her ear. ¡°But not when you¡¯re putting yourself in danger like that! Aren¡¯t these the most powerful politicians of the current era?!¡± He imagined it was like committing a crime in front of a king. A crime that was even a personal slight. Who knows what kind of consequences could come from that? It was not like this world was a paradise. This was the world two thousand years ago, more brutal than anything he had imagined. The question of whether they would give corporal punishment to a child was definitely yes.

    Gaia looked so very confused, and he felt a pang in his heart. ¡°But you came with me. You¡¯re doing the same thing, angering them.¡± She said, a little hurt. Her cat ears drooped.

    ¡°No, I¡¯m only this furious because you did it not for yourself, but for me.¡± He wrapped his arms around her, eliciting a squeak of surprise. He grimaced, the flashes of horrid visions freezing him momentarily. ¡°They can beat me, take away my freedom. But just the chance that you would get hurt because of me¡­¡± He whispered. ¡°That would feel worse in ways physical pain can¡¯t compare.¡± She felt so small in his embrace. After all, that¡¯s what she was. Just a child.

    It¡¯s a torturous world, he thought. A cruel, maniacal world.

    ¡°I can¡¯t thank you enough for what you already did, Gaia.¡± He continued. ¡°But please, don¡¯t worry me so much?¡±

    She didn¡¯t answer.

    He let go of her, not sure why he wasn¡¯t getting a response. As he faced her once more, he realized there was a flush on her. Flushed from her neck all the way to her cute, round cheeks. Her eyes flickered to him, then to the ground, then back.

    ¡°Sorry to interrupt, but someone else also risked their life in that ordeal without making a fool of themselves. Shouldn¡¯t she receive some kind of reward too?¡± Pullina said, having gotten up in the meantime.

    He turned to her. ¡°Yes, of course, thank you very much too. I didn¡¯t want to downplay your efforts, you in fact saved us all.¡± He said honestly. ¡°Reward? What kind of reward would you like?¡± He paused, giving a small grin. ¡°A hug too?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­¡± She scratched her other arm, awkwardly.

    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    Seriously? He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. She was about average height for a woman in his old world, but would count as short in this world. One of his arms rested around the small of her back while the other wrapped itself around the back proper. She pressed herself against him and they came together, feeling the curves of her body against him through their clothes. She smelled like paper, ink, and olive oil ¨Cagain. She laid her head on his broad shoulders, and by his ear, he felt her sigh. Her own arms first touched his behind, but it must have been accidental as she flinched before raising them.

    When they let go, the two were breathless.

    ¡­Thank god I didn¡¯t get a hard-on. It¡¯s been a month since I hugged a girl like that. Richard thought. It¡¯s nice¡­ Too nice. He thought women might not take as good care of their hair or something in this world, because of their more classical masculine roles, but Pullina, at the very least, tended to it. There was a healthy shine to it and It smelled like olive oil, like everyone else in this world.

    He froze, realizing where his thoughts were going. A wave of melancholy swept through his body.

    Suddenly, he felt a tug on his tunic, breaking him from his moment. Looking down, it was Gaia once more.

    ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we get going?¡± The little girl frowned. Her childish disappointment was pretty clear, and Richard gave her a gentle smile. ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, you¡¯re still my number one.¡± The smile turned into a teasing one.

    Gaia sputtered a bit. He waited patiently as she diverted the topic clumsily, then requested her to lead them to the next event. She talked about lunch, and he was happy to have some food. He was quite curious about roman dishes, though he was worried about seasoning and flavor.

    He wrapped the palla over his head and around his body. It helped to block the searing rays of the sun.

    As they walked, his mind wandered to review his present situation.

    Pullina is quite intelligent. Using her excuse, it was difficult for Sulla to pull any moves out in the open. Powerful men have appearances to uphold and kidnapping someone¡¯s girlfriend while they were on a date in broad daylight is severely distasteful. Not that she couldn¡¯t do it, of course, powerful men can get away with anything¨CPullina merely correctly judged Sulla would be too prideful for such despicable actions while the public was watching.

    I don¡¯t think it¡¯s the last I¡¯ve seen of Sulla, however. Literally, since we¡¯re meeting her tonight, but also metaphorically in terms of her overtures towards me.

    He sighed. I wonder why she¡¯s even so interested in me. I¡¯m not that handsome, pretty, or intelligent. Using Crassa¡¯s husband as reference, my frame is too broad and I¡¯m too ¡®feminine¡¯ as per their standards to be attractive in their eyes. Could it be merely my exotic eyes? But it seems a little much, doesn¡¯t it? Exotic eyes may make people take notice, like Sulla had with her offer to buy him. Exotic eyes didn¡¯t make people chase him in the middle of a crowd like a wolf on a hunt.

    Richard felt like there was something he was missing. Information he wasn¡¯t aware of, or information he wasn¡¯t looking at the right way. However, no matter how he considered it, he couldn¡¯t figure out how it would be advantageous for Sulla to have him.

    Unless it really is a passing fancy, which if we consider Esmeralda¡¯s fate¡­ Is just as dangerous.

    Therefore, it all came back to his initial problem. Leverage, leverage, leverage¡­ All this time he had still no idea on what he could provide of value. Nevertheless, an option was brought to him by Gaia¡¯s kindness, and through the events of the early afternoon, he had slowly considered it far more seriously.

    Marrying Pullina.

    Somehow, she had the unfortunate luck of being the least beautiful one out of absolute supermodels. Her initial impression was also weak, having treated him like a prize that she was offered. She was also a poor conversationalist, if her story earlier was anything to go by.

    But then she saved him from Sulla. Her gift was thoughtful, thinking of the sun and his own comfort.

    If I consider her specs, I wouldn¡¯t say it''s bad. Good looks, intelligent, and has a degree of power in her own right if I consider that whole discussion with the matron of the Julii family. She has her own estate and her personality isn¡¯t terrible.

    If it was marrying someone, he could certainly do much worse.

    I could certainly live with only banging that bod for the rest of my life. The skin of his hands tingled with echoes of their close contact. It was brief, but he had felt the curvature of her back and her breasts against his front. Closing his eyes, he imagined himself tracing those erotic lines, as his imaginary remaining hand raised to cup her perfect boobs.

    Not to mention¡­.

    He opened his eyes with a laugh. Surprised, Pullina and Gaia turned to him with curious expressions. ¡°Pullina,¡± He said, ¡°I must ask, why a poem of all things?¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± She looked a bit bashful. ¡°I¡­ I do write on my own time. Minimally, of course. I spend most of my time on business, managing a decent sized estate in the countryside, and on martial pursuits and other useful matters. I assure you¨C¡±

    ¡°No, no!¡± He chuckled. ¡°It¡¯s not a bad thing. I just never met someone who was into poetry before. Tell me, what do you write about?¡± That was unexpected for him. Nothing indicated to him she was a poet of all things. He was expecting a more sophisticated look, and perhaps even a french bonnet¨Cthough for obvious reasons reality differed.

    Even if she was a mere amateur poet, he wouldn¡¯t mind. There was romance in the idea of carefully chosen words to embody a concept, be it an emotion, a fleeting experience, or perhaps glints into deeper truths. He thought it was a worthy undertaking.

    ¡±Er¡­¡± She awkwardly said, her hesitation saying everything. ¡°It¡¯s only a young girl¡¯s hobby. Are you sure?¡±

    ¡°Of course!¡± He said enthusiastically. He¡¯s always felt people reading poetry were of two kinds: those who thought it was meaningless sophistry disguised as pretentious substance, and those who found great joy in the complex emotions ascribed to the text resonating with them. He was of the later¨Cone who believed poetry to be an art form not unlike painting and dancing. A poem to him was a condensation of thought much alike water to a window, extracting the essence of vaporous atmospheres into visible droplets of ideas.

    ¡°I write about lots of things¡­ Erm,¡± She shuffled a little bit. ¡°There¡¯s not really any single theme. I write what comes to mind.¡±

    He wondered if whatever power he had that translated their language could even work on poems, since it was difficult to translate cultural nuances¨Cone to one mappings were rare when considering the entire history of a people. That¡¯s why many translators like to call themselves interpreters instead. ¡°Tell me one!¡± He stepped forward, cupping her hands in his own. ¡°You must, can¡¯t you see I¡¯m honestly dying with curiosity?¡±

    ¡°Ah. Ah? Ah?!¡± She looked like she had no idea what to do. Pullina glanced down at her hand held in his grasp, and then met his eyes again.

    ¡°Oh,¡± He quickly released. ¡°I¡¯m sure you need to grab whatever book¨Cor scroll you had written them down, yes? It would be much to expect you to remember them all.¡± He sighed.

    ¡°No, no!¡± She hurried. ¡°I¡¯m just, well¡­¡± She shyly rubbed her knuckles of the hand he grabbed. ¡°Here¡¯s one:

    Bertram loved his beard.

    Geraldine the goat loved Bertram''s beard.

    One nibble at a time. Bertram stroked Geraldine''s ears.

    Unaware of the disappearing beard.

    A love story for the ages.¡±

    He stared at her. There was a moment of silence, and Pullina hurried to explain. ¡°You see¨CI was on a campaign in the West and I had seen this tribe of barbarians and the men, you see, they didn¡¯t shave¨C¡°

    He barked out laughing. Stunned, Pullina trailed off as his mirth bubbled over. ¡°Why¨CYou¨C¡° He could already imagine her seriously in her study, surrounded by ancient scrolls of knowledge and hundreds of years of history, writing what could be only described as an absurd, comedic little excerpt all in the moment. Written what probably amounted to a thousand dollars worth of sheep skin¨Csince cheap paper wasn¡¯t invented yet. ¡°That¡¯s amazing.¡±

    She was clearly unsure, but as he continued guffawing a small smile finally formed on her face. ¡°I have another one. This one is about a scene I had seen..¡±

    ¡°Is it¨C¡° He snickered, ¡°As funny as the last?¡±

    ¡°Mayhaps.¡±

    ¡°I think I need to leave.¡± Gaia said.

    ¡°Oh?¡± Richard¡¯s attention turned to the child.

    ¡°I have an appointment.¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes, please, don¡¯t let us hold you up.¡± Pullina waved at her.

    Gaia scowled.

    He gave her a wave while she left with the world¡¯s largest pout for some reason. Pullina just had a strange grin that she tried her best to smother.

    Turning back to Pullina, he continued their previous conversation. ¡°Well, go on, say your poem.¡±

    With more confidence, she recited her work.

    ¡°A tangerine dream dipped in molten cheese,

    Whispering secrets only a spirit could see.

    The day yawns, stretches, pulls a starry blanket tight,

    And a mischievous grin of moon winks in the night.¡±

    He frowned, passing the poem through his head again. When things still didn¡¯t make sense, he asked her to repeat it, and she did so slower and more deliberately.

    ¡°...Is this one about the sunset?¡± He finally said.

    ¡°Correct.¡± She nodded, pleased. ¡°I¡¯m surprised you got it.¡±

    ¡°Only in the later part of the poem. I must admit, it is the first time I¡¯ve ever heard the molten rays of the setting sun be compared to cheese.¡±

    She hummed with a smile. ¡°A poet¡¯s romance, you see. What comes to us in the moment may not always make sense to another.

    ¡°Or you were hungry.¡±

    ¡°...I was hungry.¡± She admitted. ¡°But that is neither here nor there.¡±

    Bemused, he returned her smile with his own. ¡°Are all your poems so whimsical?¡±

    ¡°Well¡­¡± She suddenly paused, stopping.

    ¡°What is it?¡± He stopped his pace too.

    ¡°It¡¯s a little¡­ Hmm¡­ hard to understand, I think.¡± She eyed him with a little wariness.

    ¡°No, that¡¯s fine,¡± He encouraged with enthusiasm, ¡°I think your poems are quite neat! Give me it.¡±

    The sudden hesitation that took a hold of her was different this time. He watched her eye the people moving past them on the street and her eyes became more guarded.

    Oh¡­ He knew exactly why she was doing that. There could be only one reason: the poem was a dirty joke, wasn¡¯t it. ¡°If you wish, could we move to a more private location?¡± Seemed only right for a date. Maybe a restaurant? Do restaurants even exist at this time?

    She locked eyes with him. ¡°No, it¡¯s fine.¡±

    When she recited her poem this time, it was quieter, underneath her breath. Yet, she enunciated every word with power that she hadn¡¯t for her previous works. ¡°The eagle, once soaring, now fights in its nest.¡± She intoned. ¡°Feathers, stained crimson, drift on winds of unrest.¡±

    That¡¯s about¡­!

    ¡°The iron fist weakens, ideals ground to dust.¡± She continued, her fist at her side that was free of the white toga balling up. ¡°We, bound and helpless, can only watch and distrust.¡±

    He walked through her words in his mind. The eagle had been a symbol for the United States, but before that, many nations had made the bird of prey their national symbol. Germany, Serbia¡­ and perhaps the first of all, Rome.

    Her poem was about Rome.

    ¡°So you are aware.¡± He said. Intelligent and observant.

    ¡°The Gracchi sisters have been dead for almost forty years¨Cyet their legacy stands as strong as a hundred legions.¡± She smiled back. ¡°From the lowest of slaves to the most exalted of consuls¨Cthey all feel it in the air, even before yesterday.¡± She took a deep breath. ¡°A hint of copper, a sweetness masked by musk. A scent familiar to all of us whose lions still roar or once roared within our breasts: The heart of Rome bleeds a sanguine stream, unseen yet all felt.¡±

    She certainly has a way with words. Richard thought. That¡¯s kind of fucking cool. On the other hand, however, I¡¯m living in the midst of this political turmoil. That is usually not good for one¡¯s health, be it physical or financial. He verbalized that thought to her, sighing.

    ¡°Then we should discuss Sulla¡¯s invitation.¡± She said. ¡°Follow me, we can walk as we talk.¡±

    ¡°Yes. We should.¡± He followed after her, stepping up to walk side-by-side. ¡°Where are you leading me?¡±

    ¡°To the other temples.¡± She said. ¡°You seem to be interested¡­ do you not wish to?¡±

    ¡°Oh!¡± He gave her a wide smile. ¡°Of course, I¡¯d love to!¡± She certainly knew what he liked. Many people his age would perhaps scoff at the ¡®boring¡¯ shaped rocks, but certainly not him. Rome architecture, unlike the bland, washed out whites and greys that he imagined, was a bit like an exotic, vibrant plumed bird. A feast to his senses, made all the better by the presence of a pretty, female companion.

    ¡°In order to prepare for tonight,¡± She said as they walked, ¡°I¡¯ll need to know more about the situation. What is your relationship with Sulla?¡±

    ¡°None. We helped each other when we escaped Sulpicia¡¯s men¨Cer women, and that¡¯s it. She seems to want to¡­ uh¡­ buy me.¡±

    ¡°Why?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s the thing. I don¡¯t know.¡±

    ¡°...You certain?¡±

    ¡°100%.¡± He couldn¡¯t think of any reason for Sulla to really want him. It¡¯s not like he was a harem protag or something, or had a magic dick that granted women that fucked him superpowers.

    ¡­Do I have a magic dick? He shook his head, trying to get rid of the dumb idea. No, no, how would she even know I have a magic dick even if I had one? He tried to keep out of his mind the image of how banging Sulla would be like. He was with Pullina, after all, and might become her husband someday. It seemed a little rude thinking of having sex with a different woman while they were on a date.

    ¡°Maybe she just took a liking to you.¡± She said. ¡°Your¡­ body shape is¡­ unique, if you¡¯d excuse me for putting it in such a way.¡±

    He struggled to figure out where Sulla took a liking to him. He was thankful to her for saving his life twice, but that didn¡¯t mean he had to become her slave if there was any other option. To him, it sounded like there was something else there.

    ¡°Yeah, maybe she just wants me for my body.¡± He finally said.

    ¡°Not as the only reason.¡± She commented. ¡°It is well known she usually prefers older, experienced men and women.¡±

    ¡°...And women?¡± He repeated.

    ¡°Yes?¡±

    ¡°She¡¯s bisexual?¡±

    ¡°Well, yes.¡± She said casually as his eyebrows went way up. ¡°It¡¯s not like it¡¯s out of the ordinary. Most women are to some degree.¡±

    Eh?! Da fuq?! Wait, back in my old world, are most women¡­ No, no, stupid porn brain. He shook his head. The internet brain rot was clearly getting at him. It must be a strange aspect of this world. He frowned. A necessity? The population is almost all women, after all. But saying necessity seems a little weird, as it¡¯s not like you need to be attracted to both sexes in order to reproduce. Maybe it¡¯s in relationship with bonds? Like the homosexuals in Greece? Since women are attracted to each other sexually, it makes camaraderie easier? It didn¡¯t seem entirely correct to Richard.

    ¡°By chance, do you also¡­¡± He turned to ¡°Uh¡­ also appreciate the¡­ uh¡­¡± If men were the ¡®fairer¡¯ sex in this world, what were the women? ¡°...more adventurous sex?¡± Better to learn your partner is gay now rather than a year in the relationship. On some level, no matter how incorrect and irrational, it hurts to know someone would rather fuck someone of their own gender than be with you. Which is definitely not what it would be. But love is irrational in that way, he supposed.

    She tensed up.

    Didn¡¯t she just say it was nothing out of the ordinary? What¡¯s the problem, then? ¡°Sorry if it¡¯s a little personal,¡± He said, ¡°But if we¡¯re to be married, we should know more about each other, right?¡±

    ¡°You want to know more about¡­ those aspects of me?¡± She looked surprised.

    ¡°Well, I think spending time with you is fun.¡± He said honestly. ¡°But shouldn¡¯t we also check for compatibility in other regards?¡±

    She scratched her arm. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ It¡¯s a little difficult speaking such things to your groom-to-be. Not to mention it¡¯s already decided by my matron and it¡¯s not like you have room to refuse, don¡¯t you? Unless you wish to be taken by Sulla¡­¡±

    He pushed the flash of annoyance down. ¡°I understand, I am fine with giving you some room.¡± He said patiently. Still, with how accelerated their relationship was with them skipping the dating phase all together and going straight into their marital life, there was bound to be disagreements and perspective conflicts. Better to know them as early as possible to set expectations.

    Even matters of the nightly activities are good to clear up. Sexual compatibility, while not often discussed before marriage for the more conservative, serves as a possible point of contention between spouses. In his case, if she only wanted to have sex for reproductive purposes, it would make him quite pent up. With the gender roles flipped, he assumed it¡¯d be frowned upon for him to sleep around or masturbate and be an ¡®impure¡¯ man.

    Putting the previous topic aside, they visited the other temples on the hill. They were dedicated to a number of other gods and figures. Richard didn¡¯t know about many of them, for example the gods Fides and Ops. Fides was the god of good faith, Pullina explained, whose statue showed him as a young teenage boy with a white veil covering his face. In his hand was a funny turtle and dove mutant¨Cthough Richard would never mention that out loud¨Cand in the other, a symbol of some kind. Ops on the other hand was the god of abundance, holding a bundle of sticks that Pullina explained was grain and a really, really phallic carrot-something that was supposedly a cornucopia. He thought the sculptor might have been a bit downbad.

    She had not asked him why he randomly burst into immature giggles.

    In between their visits, a messenger had brought them the official letter of invitation from Sulla. Included were the exact time¨Cthough only the hour. Afterwards, they had to head back to the forum a few times to check the public water clock to make sure they weren¡¯t late. And wasn¡¯t that a surprise to Richard, he didn¡¯t think they had anything more advanced than a sundial. Instead, he was met with the sundial, of course, but also with a large contraption that was mostly hidden behind a stone box, and a figurine of a man holding an arrow pointing at a vertical cylinder where the hours of the day were inscribed.