Hi there! Just taking a break from my O-fic to write something fresh and creative instead of revision after revision. Damn sure hope an agent wants to pick it after the work I've put into this. 3 years is a long time to get this story as close to perfect as possible.

TwiFanFictionRecs made my banner! As always, it's gorgeous and I'm in love with it! You should all check out the site for tons of story recs!

This isn't beta'd, pre-read, or had anyone look at it but me. Sorry for the mistakes. Lots of fluff that came from a dream I had and turned into this. Sort of-kind of based on Ancient Rome, but mostly made up. Completed in 8 chaplets.

North Swan, Volterra Empire

Saturnalia, 427 BC

Isabella reached up to pluck the ripe, black olives dangling in a small grouping together and dropped it into the basket strung around her neck. The wind billowed, causing the olive leaves on the trees surrounding her to rustle and fluttering her linen skirts around her legs. Bright sun filtered down, but not deep enough to cover the winter chill in the air as she adjusted the cloak around her shoulders.

A sudden, dry cough sounded from behind her, causing Isabella to whirl around with a gasp. Her eyes widened as she took in a soldier in a tattered tunic and battered armor. Her breath caught at the shining copper color of his hair, handsome chiseled features, and brilliant green eyes. But it was the blood dripping down one arm and falling in droplets into the dirt that held her attention.

"Forgive me, my Lady. I did not mean to startle you," he said in a low, velvet voice that felt like a caress across Isabella's skin.

"Soldier, you are hurt!" she cried and rushed over without thought as to if this man meant her harm or not. She reached his side and gently turned his arm to assess where the wound was located.

"Do not worry yourself, my Lady. Tis nothing more than a flesh wound." His answer was gruff, but weary to Isabella's ears.

She offered a smile, her eyes meeting his briefly. "I am glad to help, if I can." She palpated the tender flesh, high on his shoulder. The handsome solider winced and grunted. "My apologies. Here, come rest under the trees while I tend to your injury."

He allowed Isabella to lead him over to sit against a gnarled trunk, albeit with a hint of reluctance. She pulled the basket of olives along with a skein of water from around her neck.

"Are you hungry? Thirsty?" She knelt and held out her offering, and was rewarded with a lopsided smile.

"Aye, my Lady. Thank you for the generosity." He drank deeply, before handing back the goatskin sack and reaching for a handful of olives. His eyelids drifted shut as he chewed with a satisfied hum. "It has been too long since I've had such fresh food. Your grove has delicious offerings." He looked at her then, gaze drifting over Isabella with an appreciative expression.

Heat rose in Isabella's cheeks and she busied herself with focusing on his wound. She poured water to rinse away the dirt and blood, causing him to hiss. "I am sorry for causing you pain. It is a deep cut."

"Do not worry. I have had worse; this will mend. Though your care is appreciated, beauty." Isabella bit her lip and reached up to release the scarf binding her hair at her neck. Her long, chestnut hair floated around her shoulders while Isabella tied the deep blue fabric around his muscled arm to hold the injury closed.

"That is the best I am able to do out here. If you'd accompany me back to my home, I could stitch it for you. Provide a true meal. My family would not hesitate to help support the empire and its soldiers. My father is the governor of North Swan."

He shook his head. "Nay, but you are kind to offer. I must find my unit again; I have been separated too long. It helps to know my direction, I shall be able to locate them now." He shifted to sit up fully, grasping a lock of Isabella's hair. "But perhaps I can beg the name of my savior?"

Her heart pounded as her eyes locked with the beautiful soldier's. Never in her sixteen years had a man affected her so. She felt flushed and anxious, but giddy and awakened at the same time. There was a palpable connection between the two and Isabella was at a loss for what to do.

"Isabella," was all she could say. The gorgeous smile that graced his features was worth the roiling of emotions inside her.

"Isabella," he echoed softly, lifting his fingertips to her cheek. "Tis a lovely name, beauty. How may I repay your kindness?"

The sensation of his rough skin brushing along her smooth skin was thrilling. Her lids drifted shut and she swayed toward him. His quiet chuckle snapped her back to her senses. "No payment necessary," she mumbled, "As I said, I am happy to be of aid. Tis Saturnalia, think of it as a gift."

He nodded once, letting his hand fall. "Tell me, beauty, are you spoken for?"

Isabella inhaled sharply, a flood of warmth filling her. Why would he ask if she were married or betrothed? Faintly, she shook her head. "Nay, soldier. I am not."

His brow furrowed at her words. "How old are you?"

"I am ten and six." Well within the age of marriage, Isabella felt blessed her father had not sold her off to highest bidder. Yet. Her stomach knotted as she knew the day would come sooner than she would prefer.

The soldier looked down for a moment, and then caught her gaze once more while licking his lips. "Perhaps I can give a gift in return. After all, tis Saturnalia." Swifter than Isabella could react, he cupped her jaw with one hand and captured her lips with his.

A startled sound escaped Isabella, but she pressed into the kiss without hesitation. His tongue swept along the seam of her lips and she parted them, welcoming the unexpected invasion. He tasted of olives and the surprising flavor of mint. It was a strange combination, but Isabella decided instantly that it was wonderful and stroked her tongue along his. With a low groan, the soldier gathered her closer, strong arms wrapping around her small frame. She should have felt overwhelmed and afraid, but a sense of protection and being cherished settled in her bones. Isabella felt at home in his embrace.

One of his hands drifted up her torso, shifting to graze over her breast. Body alight with her first dance with lust, Isabella whimpered and arched wantonly into his caress. Her nipples pebbled and tightened as an exquisite aching built between her thighs.

He pulled his mouth from hers, lifting his hand and stared down at her. They both breathed heavily. Isabella couldn't fight the disappointment flooding her. It was sinful, but she desired to know where his caresses and kisses might lead.

"Forgive me, beauty. I go too far and have treated you abominably." His voice was soft and sincere. Isabella knew she should agree or reprimand the soldier, but the words would not be forced from her. Instead, she slowly untangled herself from his warm arms.

The handsome soldier aided Isabella in standing, but did not release her hand from his. "Thank you again, my Lady. I am indebted to you. I fear even my gift was selfish and gave me more pleasure than it did you."

She shook her head before thinking to stop herself. "Nay, I … quite enjoyed your offering. Twas a wonderful first kiss." As soon as the words left her, Isabella regretted them. How naïve to tell a soldier who had taken pity on her that he was her first kiss!

He grinned. "I am glad I was your first. I'll carry that kiss with me into eternity. You shall make a lucky man very happy one day. Thank you again, beauty." He lifted her hand to his lips, pressing them to her heated skin for a long moment. Then he turned and began his journey along the road to the south.

"Wait," Isabella called out. He turned to look at her. "Your name, please."

"Edward," he responded with a slight bow. He touched two fingers to his lips, then turned again. Isabella mirrored his action, smiling at the slightly swollen feeling of her lips.

Thoughts? Wanna leave me a review before I go back into my writer's hole?