"Domina is growing impatient." Naevia speaks from the doorway as Cassia rushes to finish the concoction.
"Let's hope this one works." Cassia mumbles under her breath as she places the nearly empty bowl on the table, quickly wiping her hands clean before scooping up the full jar with the fragrant, lotion like substance. Naevia delivers a sympathetic smile before the two ascend the villa.
Upon entering the room she sees Lucretia lounging on her bed with a faint sheen of sweat and an uneasy expression.
"Water," she commands. Naevia nods to Mira; she swiftly fills a goblet and walks it to their mistress. Lucretia greedily swallows before pulling away and waving Mira off.
"Cassia, I hope you were able to figure out a tolerable solution," Lucretia presses as she pulls the fabric away from her stomach, "I know this must be difficult since you're rather out of practice, what with being stuck fixing and patching up the men."
Still holding the jar, Cassia extends her arms out to Lucretia, who leans forward to smell the contents before reclining back into the bed and quirking her brow in approval.
"It's a mixture of olive oil laced with myrtle, oil of roses, quinces, mastic and spikenard." Cassia explains as she spreads and massages the treatment over Lucretia's bare stomach.
"This one certainly smells less vile than the previous ones," Lucretia replies as she watches the medicus as she continues to rub the solution over her flesh.
Cassia purses her lips before settling on a small smile. At least when she was treating the gladiators she could freely speak her mind but that wasn't an option with domina. Lucretia's new condition was already proving to be challenge, rejecting all the other remedies for morning sickness for various reasons, and Cassia sincerely hoped this one would satisfy her.
"That should do it, unless it's unsatisfactory?" Cassia questions as Lucretia closes her eyes.
"Should this be used daily or as needed?" she questions, looking serene as she lies still.
"Daily," Cassia replies feeling relief that Lucretia is finally content.
"Very well," Lucretia idly answers. Her eyes open with a large commotion stemming from the atrium but she remains calm.
"Lucretia! You need to have fucking words with Iliythia." Quintus barks as he parts the curtains and steps into the room, his gaze penetrating the populous and settles on Lucretia lounging on the bed. Concern quickly sets in as he breathlessly asks, "What's happened?"
Lucretia proudly replies, "I am with child. You're to be a father Quintus."
Quintus's mouth drops in surprise and a smile spreads across his face. He takes slow and deliberate steps towards his wife. Cassia nervously shifts, absentmindedly touching her own stomach before realizing her mistake and dropping her hand.
"Wine! Wine for the entire fucking house, eh? We're going to celebrate!" He declares while jovially raising his arms. He carefully lowers himself to the bed, perching on the edge and looking to his wife.
Naevia, Mira, and Marina bustle out of the room to fetch the libations with Cassia following suit seeking air. She hurries outside and lifts her face to the sky embracing the torrential downpour.
Clutching her stomach she squeezes her eyes shut and begs, "What cruel fate?"
Cassia stood with Naevia at the refreshment table helping the slaves refill vessels and plate trays of food for the guests. The room erupts with cheers followed by giggles and whispers, as the two women knowingly exchange glances. The gladiators have arrived for spectacle. Cassia's eyes flicker between plating food and looking for Varro.
"What do you think it's like to be put on display?" Naevia asks.
Cassia shakes head before responding, "I've often wondered the very same thing."
Naevia's demeanor sours as Ashur plucks a grape from the table.
"Ladies," he drones and Cassia suddenly feels nauseous. She hastily fills trays with the desire to remove herself from his presence. Ashur purposely steps closer, occasionally brushing against her as he reaches for snacks. Upon finishing the final tray, Cassia realizes Naevia is gone and spots her across the room with Lucretia. Swallowing she turns to Ashur before rotating to leave but his hand grips her arm.
"Where are you going? The party is just getting started."
"For air," she tries to side step him but he blocks the pathway. Varro's name is called behind them, and the pair crane their necks to discover that he's been selected by patrons to perform sex acts with a slave. Spartacus sympathetically looks to Cassia, slightly shaking his head in a silent plea with the woman not to cause a scene.
"That's an unfortunate turn of events. You clearly have a type. If you like gladiators so much, why haven't we been acquainted?" Ashur purrs while toying with Cassia's hair. Wishing she could fold into herself and disappear, but knowing men like Ashur feed on that, she instead lifts her chin in defiance.
"If only you were a gladiator." Cassia cuts and Ashur's face contorts in anger. His hand lifts back before striking Cassia's cheek. Her mouth agape in surprise as their eyes meet.
A deviant smile plasters his face, "I don't think you quite understand." Cassia's eyes narrow as she cups her cheek.
"What is there to understand? You are a stain." Cassia's chest tightens with desperation to escape the party. Ashur laughs as he grabs her chin, yanking it forward and positioning himself behind her. Cassia tries to close her eyes but Ashur tightly squeezes her jaw causing her to whimper. Her heart sinks as she witnesses Varro step up to the bed, his eyes heavy and downcast knowing his lover is watching. Her heart is racing while she silently fights back tears.
Cassia flinches when she feels Asher's hot breath on her skin as he whispers, "I wonder if he's thinking of your cunt as he slides into her." His words feel like a knife to her heart as Varro hesitantly enters the slave.
"I need air," Cassia begs but Ashur only presses himself closer. Her stomach flips when she feels his erection poking her as he grinds into her.
"The show isn't over," he insists, keeping her in place while she squirms in an attempt to free herself. Ashur smiles into her hair, "I like it when you're feisty." His pace increasing with Varro's as he moves against her.
Unable to wipe it away, a tear cascades down her cheek when she hears Varro moan her name, Ashur stiffens against her back with his own soft moan and a deep chuckle. Cassia trembles in disgust when she feels the warm wetness across her backside. He releases her jaw as he twists her around.
"Tonight was a pleasant surprise. One I wish I had a hand in, but even though I did not, know that your boyfriend is my puppet. I possess his life in my hand and subsequently control his friend." Ashur smugly confesses. Cassia wrenches herself from his grip, trying to get away before she loses the contents of her stomach but Ashur closes the distance. Unable to hold back, Cassia throws up all over him. He remains frozen in place as she wipes her mouth and runs from the villa.
Varro enters the medicus with trepidation, unsure of what state he'll find Cassia as the guilt weighs heavy on his heart. She is sitting on the bed with her back to the wall and her knees bent to her chest. His brow lowers when she lifts her head to reveal swollen and puffy eyes from crying.
"Cassia…" his voice trembling as he speaks.
She fervently shakes her head, "No. Don't. There's no need to speak of it." He slowly exhales as he approaches the bed but stops as she shifts away. Cassia felt sick, from Ashur and knowing she would have to keep it a secret from Varro. If he knew, he would likely jeopardize everything seeking vengeance.
"I feel awful." his voice now barely above a whisper and her chest tightens.
"Let's not forget we're slaves, Varro. Our fate isn't our own." Cassia extends her legs while straightening out her dress. He bites his cheek as he crosses his arms; her lack of eye contact hasn't gone unnoticed.
"Please tell me what I can do," Varro softly pleas. Cassia releases a sob and he rushes to the bed to secure her in his arms. She takes several short breaths, attempting to regain her composure. Varro delivers several easy kisses to her head, hoping to mask his own silent tears. He's confused when she springs loose from his grip and runs to vessel on the table. Her coughs echoing inside the clay jug. Varro strides to the table, pouring her a cup of water.
"Are you ill?" he questions while stroking her back and nudging the cup towards her. Cassia sips the liquid then swishes it around before spitting it into the vessel. She searches his face, trying to find the courage to speak the truth as he eagerly waits for a response. Stalling, she takes another sip before setting the cup down. Gripping his hand she leads him back to the bed.
"I need to tell you something," she nervously licks her lips before continuing, "There's no easy way to say this, I'm with child." Varro blinks. She squeezes his hand and a large goofy grin overtakes his face.
"You're having my offspring?" he laughs at question.
"I didn't know how you'd react to the news," she confesses. Varro jovially hugs her before giving her a kiss.
"I'm beyond elated. My seed is in your womb." he presses his hand to her stomach and stares in wonder.
"Yes." she curtly replies and his eyes shoot up.
"Are you not happy?" he jumps from the bed, glaring down at her.
"What kind of life can we offer this child inside these walls?"
"Love. We have love." Varro declares as Cassia stands.
"Varro, a child born into slavery is a slave," Cassia protests.
"Don't you see this is a sign from the Gods! After all we've been through this is a blessing. I will pay for our freedom."
Cassia shakes her head as she cries, "How? You're already supporting one family." Her words bite and Varro's jaw tenses causing her to instantly regret them.
"I'm going to do what it takes for our family. Spartacus will help." he assures while cupping her face. Cassia remains silent as he presses, Varro's blue eyes piercing hers as he speaks, "I'll do whatever it takes for my family, for our family."
"I wish I could be optimistic," she whispers.
"I love you. We will figure this out together," Varro says as he leans down, pressing his head to hers.