The following is a complete work of fiction inspired by Roman history, with a strong fantasy aspect for the use of artistic license. The original story which was previously posted on Literotica has been completely revamped, so the folks who have been following the story might want to go back and re-read from Chapter 1. The idea of intrigue, betrayal and a power struggle are the still the same. However, entire new passages and parts have been added and some omitted. What was once Chapter 3 is now broken up and will be Chapter 4. Complicated but I think better. Changing to a fantasy setting (upon suggestion by my editor Rogue Lurker who is FABULOUS even though we work together on a sporadic basis due to scheduling differences) allowed me to play more with the idea of pagan magic and other aspects that I found were limited in a historically accurate Roman setting. Hopefully if you enjoyed the original, you will still enjoy this one. For those who wrote to me about this series regarding its lack of overly explicit sexual content, I will state for your peace of mind that it is NOT a stroke story. If that interests you, you'd be better off reading something else.
Disclaimer:
The following story may contain erotic situations between consenting adults. If it is illegal for you to read this please leave now. Please do not copy or distribute the story without the author's permission.
Important -
Please feel free to send any feedback or comments through PM or you email me. I appreciate you taking two seconds to vote or leave a comment. And a quick fun fact for those who email me asking who I imagine when I think of Portia, I modeled her loosely after Angelina Jolie in terms of appearance. Marcus is modeled after dreamy Russell Crowe. Hope that clarifies.
Thanks all.
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Portia slowly entered into the room where everyone waited to begin the funeral procession. the scent of incense assaulted her nostrils, her stomach coiling as she resisted the urge to gag/ her eyes met Commodus's from across the room and he moved towards her to meet her halfway. He bowed from the waist and she gently inclined her head.
"Are we ready, Excellency?"
"Upon your indication, Your Highness."
Portia nodded, feeling as if she was moving in a fog. She had orchestrated every detail of this day carefully so that she could go through the motions without thought. Her mind was too heavy with other things to be weighed down with trivialities.
She and her entourage would follow the senators and guards who would carry her father's cloaked body on the carved ivory stretcher adorned in the finest of silk fabrics in the royal colors of gold and lapis lazuli. The procession would wind around the streets to give everyone their chance to offer up prayers to the gods and goddesses as their King passed from this world into the next
Portia could not see her father's face beneath the silks shrouding him, yet for a moment she imagined that the dead man would sit up to chastise her for her treachery. She didn't realize that she was holding her breath until she heard the priest's voice by her ear to rouse her from her thoughts.
"We shall proceed then."
Portia's expression was hidden by the shadows of her veil and she welcomed the anonymity it offered. Today she needed her masks more than she would ever have acknowledged.
The soldiers grasped the handles of the stretcher and moved out of the room out into the streets of Celaenia. It was a slow, solemn parade. The streets were lined with mourners who tossed flowers into their path. Portia met their gazes beneath the silk of her veil and her breath caught when she saw the sadness in so many eyes. She reached for Commodus's arms to brace herself, ignoring the glance he offered her. Her hold tightened when the funeral procession gathered high upon the hill. The stretcher was placed upon the funeral pyre and she felt the world swim around her.
Think of Celaenia. What was done cannot be undone.
It took a few moments before she pulled herself together enough to take the offered torch and climb the ladder to her father's form. A shaky hand slipped beneath his shroud to adjust the coins upon his eyes, before she bent over to press her lips upon his forehead.
"Forgive me, father," she murmured. "You once told me that all great rulers must be willing to do whatever is necessary to guarantee the health and happiness of their people. I have traded my soul for thier fate. May the gods forgive me."
She pulled back, tears warm on her cheeks as she dropped the torch.
Commodus helped her step down as the kindling caught. Portia watched the flames licking along the wood and gradually up to the old King's body. She dropped her gaze when his body began to smoke. The voices of the senators and priests droned on in her ears as they spoke of the greatness of their late King.
It made her sick. His early greatness was all his own, but when they spoke of deeds done in his later life, resentment pricked her soul. Those acts had been hers and they could never be acknowledged.
She pressed both hands tightly over her heart and looked up at the sky as the flames crackled. He was the past and it was dead. Celaenia's future was a blank canvas and it would soon be etched with her name...
Long live Celaenia. - - - - - - - - -
Mmmmm lower."
Portia's tone eased lazily from between plush lips as Captain Sirrus's strong, rough hands continued to work the muscles of her lower spine. He gently lowered the silk sheets another few inches so the curve of her shapely backside was revealed. Portia sighed and relaxed beneath his confident touch.
Sirrus was the Captain of the home based Royal Guard. He was loyal, handsome and adored her, a trait that mattered more than any other because it could easily be exploited.
Portia had a way with men. She had learned early on that many of them were like children. With a little guidance, they could be molded into whatever form was of the most use to her. She used the arrogance of men against them, making them believe they made her heart beat when her true desires lay in the heart of Celaenia.
"You have the hands of a god."
"One of my better qualities though other parts of me have been rumored more godly."
Amusement flickered in Portia's eyes as she glanced back over her shoulder. "Is that so?"
"Mmm hmm. I can show you if you like. There are other ways to relieve tension that are much more..."
He trailed off abruptly and Portia followed his gaze to the door. Thena stood there awkwardly. She met Portia's eyes for a moment and then quickly bowed low to the floor. Portia's amusement deepened as the slender woman flushed.
"My apologies my lady. I did not know that you were..."
"Enjoying my nap," Portia interrupted smoothly. "I asked not to be disturbed."
"Yes my lady, but there is news about your cousin."
Portia stiffened. She impatiently pushed Sirrus's hands away so that she could prop up on her elbows to look at the frazzled woman, her long hair curling carelessly over her breasts.
"Tell me. "
"General Aurelius and his troops should be within Celaenia's walls within a day or two, my lady. "
"Well, we will have to celebrate their return. It will give the people something to rejoice after all this mourning. "
She lay back down, gesturing for Sirrus to continue as her eyes closed.
"Close the public baths and have them prepared for our soldiers use, Thena. Make sure the water is warmed and soap and clean towels await them. I want their return to be a comfortable one. They have been away from Celaenian walls for too long."
