Thank you for the reviews! Please ignore any typos or errors as I am still trying to establish a beta relationship for this story. For those who were interested, however, I didn't want you to have to wait much longer for an update. Things pick up a bit in the next chapter, so hang in there!

Oh, and I just want to clarify a point. The naming system in ancient rome was strange. So while I will sometimes refer to Lucius as Julius, it's only because praenom (first names) were not commonly used. Lucius is NOT the Julius Caesar we all think of. That one was in fact GAIUS Julius Caesar. For simplicity sake, let's all just pretend Julius Caesar is the last name (even though in fact it is really a complex naming system regarding gens and all of the like).

I'm not sure if there was any confusion but different scenarios call for me to use his more formal or intimate name and I didn't want you guys to be confused. When I do flashbacks to his father, I will be careful to use full names so there is no confusion.

-M


A soft rap interrupted his reverie, and Lucius looked up. Shadowing the doorway was the only male servant he had ever trusted, and even then the man was kept at a safe proximity.

"Yes?"

"She has arrived and will be prepared to be presented to you shortly. Will the venue be the same as usual?" Aelus asked nervously. Lucius considered this. It was a tradition in his household that when a new slave was added to the ranks, he would make a personal introduction very soon upon their arrival. Alone with the slave, he would grill them with questions until they quaked in his presence and then he would establish the two most important rules of his household. They would never, under any circumstances, enter his chambers uninvited. And they would never look into his face. This tactic of fear had worked quite well thus far, and his household functioned perfectly detached from his presence.

"Send her to the library."

Aelus was gone in a blink, and once his privacy was secured Lucius reached for his hooded cloak and then moved silently through the hidden passages toward the library. The villa had been his design, although many had been fashioned after it. Tunnels riddled the structure so that he could navigate his way throughout his home without ever coming into contact with the servants who lived within.

The library was dimly lit and the draperies were drawn. Aelus was perceptive and would have to receive a bonus for his thoughtfulness. Lucius entered so quietly that the poor girl fidgeting upon the cool stone of the entryway did not as much as look up. He allowed himself a moment to watch her. She was rather pretty, with soft features that lacked the angular attribute found in most Romans. Her skin was a darker olive, and the dark curls that fell about her shoulders (obviously still damp) were attractive as well. Aemila had outfitted her in an understated shift that fell off of her shoulders, exposing the delicacy of her throat and clavicle. Yes, lovely indeed.

"Stand," he spoke softly, and the poor creature jumped as though a clap of thunder had resounded. Her gaze quickly searched the room for the source of the voice but she could find only darkness.

"I do not repeat myself," the voice came again. Caelia found herself mesmerized by the tone. It was so smooth and enthralling a voice that it seemed other-worldly. She managed to obey this time, lowering her gaze to her toes.

Lucius watched as the girl responded to his voice, though it dismayed him that she seemed to have little spirit. Watching the pawns in his household was beginning to bore him. He would dictate their every move from the shadows, from what color a specific girl was to wear to how another should fashion her hair. In his boredom it was like a giant ant farm - toys that were his to manipulate. The mundane and expected were beginning to lose their appeal. It seemed that this wench would be no different, falling easily into the game he had crafted.

"Lift your chin. I care to see more than the top of your head. Spread your feet a bit. Yes, good. Now square your shoulders."

A few simple instructions and the girl had improved posture. He could see the length of her dark legs from beneath the shift, and they were shapely and appeared smooth. Lucius rarely touched any of his slaves, and surrounding himself with only the most beautiful women was a sort of self-inflicted punishment. Even now his fingers curled against the desire that coursed through him. He longed to brush his fingers along her cheek and see if she was as soft as she appeared, or to bury his nose in those curls and inhale the fragrance of rose that Aemila always washed the girls in initially. Instead he continued with the initiation.

"Your name."

"Ca..." the girl began, and her voice faltered. "Caelia."

"Age."

"Seventeen."

"Are you pure?"

"I.. I'm sorry?" She stuttered, taken aback by the question.

"Have you been penetrated by a man," Lucius replied crudely. It had the desired effect and the modified posture returned to the fearful slouch. Caelia cowered as if realizing her fate.

"No!" She replied quickly, even as her slender arms crossed in front of her.

"I did not order you to move," he retorted harshly, and as Caelia attempted to right herself again he could see the tears already glistening in her eyes. This one was easier than most. Perhaps he'd return to his book sooner than he had imagined.

"Your father and mother sold you for profit?" The voice was mocking and seemed to come from a different place in the room each time it sounded. His words seemed to strike a chord in the young woman and her eyes flashed.

"They would never!" Caelia spat.

Lucius laughed, the sound frightening as it filled the library.

"Then tell me how you came to be cowering in my library?"

"They were killed. When the army laid siege to my town, they were murdered. Myself and all of my sisters were captured."

The girl had a sweet voice and though sadness laced her words Lucius found himself enjoying hearing her speak.

"Ah, welcome to Rome then, girl. The land of greed, where enough is never enough and the highest denarii will earn anyone a place between your thighs."

If he had been attempting to break her, he succeeded with his words. Silent tears began to streak along her cheeks, and Lucius was at last satisfied.

"There are many rules you will discover in this household. I leave those to the others who will educate you. These, slave, are my rules. You will never enter my chambers unless I bring you to them. Do you understand?"

The girl nodded mutely, and could scarcely see through her tears as a large hulking figure in all black stepped from the shadows before her. Lucius stood still, waiting for the inevitable. Caelia trembled and sniffled for a long moment, and eventually brought her gaze up to the figure before him. All that she could tell was that he had a broad stature and was tall. A hood concealed his face and as she looked within, she thought she saw a flash of white. Before she could decide what it might be a blow sent her to the floor. The beast before her had backhanded her, and now she lay sobbing on the floor. Her hand pressed to the offended flesh, and she wept an apology as he crouched over her.

A tiny pang of regret filled Lucius, but he quickly brushed it away. This was the first and last time he would strike the girl. Slaves, especially women, were a lot like a pup. A show of force was necessary in the beginning to establish dominance. They were loathe to forget the lesson learned, and Lucius did not make a habit of hitting women. Only this first time was necessary.

"Forgive me!" she huffed through her tears. Lucius ignored her and instead reached for her chin. With gloved hand he turned her face toward him.

"The second rule, girl, is that you will never look at my face. Do you understand?"

Caelia nodded empathetically. Lucius was satisfied with this and turned to leave. Before he could disappear into the shadows, Caelia surprised them both by calling out.

"Who are you?" she asked, longing for a name. She did not even know to whom she belonged.

"Master," was the cryptic reply she received before he melded into the shadows.


The entire villa was in an uproar. Nearly two weeks had passed since Caelia had been introduced to the shadowed figure who now owned her very life, and she had fallen easily into the routine. The servants were all required to bathe daily, decorating themselves as they pleased with a variety of colorful garments and hair ribbons. At their disposal were countless jars of creams and mixtures for their faces, and the entire process lasted for over an hour. Caelia had soon learned that there were nearly a hundred women serving in this villa - and half as many men. When she had first been ushered into the slave quarters she had felt inadequate and unattractive. Some of the most beautiful women she had ever seen were in this household, and the variety was staggering. Every size and shape, hair color, eye color, ethnicity. In comparison Caelia knew she paled, but she soon found her own little niche and faithfully attended the chores assigned to her daily. They were quite simple tasks at first, no doubt such a new slave would not be trusted of things of high importance. She was to pluck weeds from amongst the flowers in the garden, and provide the same service for the vegetables and fruits. Aemila employed her as a personal aid as well, sending her to fetch this spice or that herb from the pantry as she fretted over the Masters' meal.

Word had come today, however, that a guest would come by evening. Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus would arrive in time for dinner.

"Who is he?" Caelia queried as she sliced apricots and removed their pits. Aemila was strutting about the kitchen in a worried panic.

"... more than a few hours notice for such a feast, why I've never..."

"Aemila!" Caelia called to bring her out of the daze. "Who is he?"

With eyes as round as saucers Aemila paused with a huff to observe the young woman.

"You've not heard of the great Pompey?" Aemila asked incredulously.

Caelia paled. Pompey. He was the ruthless warrior who had led the Roman legions as they defeated and destroyed her small town only months before. He had set into motion the awful chain of events which seen her thrust into the slave markets and inevitably led here.

"Why is he coming here?" she managed to squeak out, though Aemila had already returned to her work.

Aemila tsked at her, obviously irritated. "He is the Master's brother in law, of course! Now shoo, Caelia. Really, you're more trouble than help today. Please go to the atrium and fetch two of the boys for me. I'm an old woman and cannot lift these sacks myself. Now go, off with you!"

Caelia mulled over this information as she hurried off to obey. What did it mean that her Master was in fact related to the great Pompey? Who was this man who hid in shadows? Was he a cruel general as well? Why would a man of such influence hide away day in and day out in his dark chambers? The sound of men yelling and laughing brought Caelia back from her reverie and she hesitated behind a giant column to peak out at the group gathered. What Aemila had referred to as "boys" were in fact grown men, and a dozen of them at least. They seemed to be taking a break from whatever labor they were involved in, and while most of them were clothed in simple tunics, a few wore little more than a wrapped loincloth. Caelia would later learn that these were called subligar, but for now she could not control the heat that flushed her face at the sight. She had never seen a man quite so near nudity, and all of the men before her were young and strong. Before she could flee however, and insist that Aemila send someone else - one of the young men caught sight of her.