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–such 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–“ 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–are 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?”

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  “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–although a short one–she 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–“

  “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–perhaps 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–not to mention it was difficult to view his masculine self as ‘weak’–but 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–“

  “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–that 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.

  “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.

  Author’s Note (20250308): Thank you very much for reading! Please leave a review/comment, follow, or favorite if you wish to see more!

  Many thanks for Pathalen for beta and so much support!

  Next Chapter Part: 20250315