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 incorporated into Chapters 4 and 5.
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 as always thanks to the people who have continued asking for this story and inspired me to do so.
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"Sweet goddess Ania, hear my petitions. I need your guidance tonight."
Gemella looked imploringly towards the statue of the goddess of wisdom. Desperation widened her brown eyes, hands clasped in supplication to the deity who was worshipped by women as protector and guide. The goddess Ania was represented as a warrior in full armor with an owl on her shoulder, the animal sacred to her and her followers. Flowers and offerings of gold and jewels littered the platform at the statue's feet. Heavy incense burned in stone bowls surrounding it, bringing tears to Gemella's eyes.
She bowed her head, her fair hair obscuring delicate features as it brushed the marble feet of the statue. The temple was dark and cool, drafts moving across her bare shoulders, but she did not fear the cold. What chilled her heart was the task that she had been entrusted with, one which she knew would bring her death in one from or another.
"Goddess Ania, hear me, for know not what to do. I have been given a task by my lady and for the first time in my life, I cannot carry out her desires. I live to serve her as her servant and guardian, but I cannot do this thing she asks." Bloodless lips trembled, the light from the candles surrounding the altar making her uncovered hair gleam with the luster of old gold. She looked ethereal in the pale blue silk gown that Portia had chosen for her to wear tonight, the lines accentuating a slender form that befitted a virgin sacrifice.
For that is what I am, a woman who goes to her death for love.
"I have never defied my lady before. I have been with her since she was just a child and even then she was impetuous and strong-willed. Her lady mother died when she was just a child and her father never loved her as a parent should. May the gods forgive her, for her heart is poisoned from neglect."
Gemella sat back on her heels, her knees bruised from kneeling so long on the unforgiving marble. She knew that Portia would be looking for her. They were mere hours from the feast that her lady had so carefully planned in celebration for the return of Celaenia's soldiers, and she would need Gemella to help her dress and arrange her hair. Her wrath would be incurred if her desires were not met, but Gemella could not bring herself to stand and go to her. Instead she prayed for a miracle she knew would not come.
Gemella had never questioned the path that the Fates had set her on. She had been born to a servant and it was only natural that she too would follow in those steps. She had served the royal family since she was little more than a girl, and had loved them all as her own. She grieved for the King of Celaenia as if she had lost a father and not just a ruler. His death had rocked her country, leaving its people wondering what their fate would be. Gemella envied them their ignorance, her fate an albatross around her neck, forcing her down into a place where she could no longer deny what she was and had always been.
Disposable.
"Marcus Aurelius is a good man. I remember him well. He always had a kind word for me when we crossed paths, the smile on his lips always one that always elevated if only for a moment to more than a servant. He is honest and good and Celaenia needs him so much."
Her eyes glittered with tears, a single damp path trailing down her cheek. "Portia wishes his death, yet to hurt him would kill me as well. I love him though I have no right to. I have loved him all of my life and now when I am being given a chance to live the dream I have carried in my heart for all of these years, I am being asked to destroy it."
Her breath caught, hands curling beneath her chin. The silence in the empty temple was oppressive, stealing her breath when no answers came.
"Tell me what I am to do, Goddess Ania. I beg you, allow me just a moment of your clarity so that I may see which path I must walk. Do I follow my lady's orders or my own heart? Do I rob Celaenia of a good man who would make a great King, or do I forfeit my life for his and pray the gods protect him?"
"My lady..."
Gemella whirled around, startled as the silence was broken. The young woman standing in the doorway gnawed her lower lip, uncertain whether to enter or to flee. She bowed as Gemella stood slowly, her long braid swinging over her shoulder.
"Forgive me for disturbing you, my lady. The Lady Portia sent me to find you. She is looking for you and wishes you to come to her right away."
"Were you listening to me?"
"No. I would never intrude on the thoughts of another. I heard nothing, I swear it. I swear it," she repeated, wincing as Gemella's slender fingers curled painfully into her shoulders.
"Are you certain?"
"Yes. I came only to deliver the Lady Portia's message."
"Very well. You have completed your task then, but I need one more thing from you."
"Of course my lady."
Gemella's breath hitched. "Have the legions returned?"
"Yes. Captain Aurelius and his men arrived a few hours ago. They are in their rooms, preparing for the feast that is to be held in their honor."
"And Captain Aurelius is in his room now?"
"Yes. I escorted him there myself."
"Thank you, Alyss. Tell my lady I am on my way."
Alyss curtsied low and then skittered off like a frightened child. When she left, she took with her Gemella's last faint hope that the gods cared for mere mortals.
Gemella's eyes closed as she bowed low in front of the statue, winding her veils back around her when she straightened.
The gods could not hear her nor could they help her. For the first time in her life, her fate would not be determined by someone else. Any decision made would be her own and she had never felt more lost.
The walk back to the palace seemed longer than it had ever been before. Everything that had once been as familiar as the nose on her face seemed tainted now that the veil of ignorance had been yanked from her eyes. She was not the same woman who had left the palace only a few hours before and as she watched servants scuttling back and forth through the halls, everyone doing their part to avoid Portia's wrath and ensure that the feast tonight would occur without a hitch, Gemella envied them their ignorance in believing that they were safe from their lady's capricious whims.
Her hand hesitated over the stair rail, her gaze lifting towards the upper landing. If she delayed much longer, Portia would punish her...
Her hand slid away as she moved quickly down the stairs, shielded by her veils, anklets jingling as she ran down the hall and made a right at the end towards Marcus's room.
Portia would punish her if she was late, but what did it matter anymore. Gemella had seen her death in her lady's eyes and knew it would come by decree of the Fates. She could not stop it, the fates having decided her path for her, but she needed to make her peace.
Her blood pounded in her ears, a slender hand hovering over the closed door. She had only to knock, but her tongue felt as thick as wool, her mind stumbling over what she could say. Marcus wouldn't believe her. He could not possibly believe her....
She stumbled forward as the door opened, gasping as her cheek pressed against warm skin still damp from a recent bath. Startled, she looked up, her body tensing when surprised gray eyes met hers.
