16 December 173

"You know, you didn't have to walk me to my rooms, Palidorus," Lucilla told the loyal man at her side.

"I couldn't let you be unescorted, princess," he let her know. "During Saturnalia, men don't act the same as normal. It's an excuse for them to do as they please."

"They do that despite Saturnalia," she reminded him. She kept her gaze on him a moment longer. Something about him seemed different. "He told you to follow me, didn't he?"

She could've given him a medal, he kept such a straight face. "Of course he didn't. He does mention from time to time to see that you're cared for properly, but he would never tell me to follow you."

She made a low humming noise and stepped closer to him. She kept her eyes on him, looking for the slightest waiver.

"You're not very good at lying, are you, Palidorus?" she questioned him.

His eyes fell to the floor. "No, your Highness."

With that, she turned on her heel and left. Palidorus was close behind.

"Forgive me, your Highness; I was only doing as he told me."

She waved him off. "I forgive you, Palidorus. You're not the one I'm mad at."

His eyes widened. "Oh, please don't be mad at him. He only wants you to be safe. He doesn't want to see you harmed one day because you were walking in dark corridors alone."

"I can take care of myself, Palidorus," she assured him, but she knew it do no good. When he started again, she rolled her eyes and looked to the heavens for help.

He slipped quietly passed the guards in the hall. They wouldn't acknowledge him anyway. All was dark with only a hint of orange and yellow light t guide his way. More than once he had to silence his sword at his side. When he found the door, he glanced around to make sure no one was looking. Then he slipped in unnoticed.

"Did you get lost?"

His hand quickly found the small dagger he kept at his side before realizing who it was.

"Something wrong, Maximus? Is there danger in the halls?"

Maximus let his hand fall to his side. "You shouldn't do that, Lucilla. You could get hurt that way."

She raised an eyebrow. "Like I could get hurt in the halls?"

He stopped mid stride. "Don't hate me for wanting to look out for you."

"Why do you assume I'm not safe? Do you know something I don't?"

He closed his eyes and counted slowly. "Lucilla," he pleaded.

She rolled her eyes. She stepped over to him and took hold of his hand. "Teach me, then."

His eyes opened slowly to meet the cool blue of her gentle eyes staring back at him.

"What?"

"You want me to be protected? Then teach me how to protect myself properly."

He shook his head. "Lucilla…"

She dropped his hand. "Fine, but don't be surprised when you hear the news I've been attacked outside my own rooms because I couldn't defend myself," she said, hoping every word was making him feel more guilty by the second. He caved before she could finish.

"All right, I'll teach you. But it might take a while."

"Now, make sure you push upwards firmly with your palm, or else it won't work," Maximus advised.

"And what if he's wearing a helmet?" Lucilla wondered, turning to face him.

"Then you grab the dagger at your side," he slipped his fingers around the dagger he had placed at her hip, "and plunge it into his neck."

Her eyes moved back and forth from the dagger and him. "It sounds as if you've done this before."

He shrugged and said, "Once or twice."

Maximus placed the dagger back into its sheath at her hip, allowing his fingers to linger.

"That dagger belonged to my grandfather, so take good care of it."

"Why are you giving it to me then?"

"Because I trust you will take care of it and keep it safe. That way, if something happens to me on the battlefield, I know this dagger will still be passed on."

"I hate the sound of that, Maximus."

"It's the truth, Lucilla."

"Doesn't mean I have to like it," she muttered.

With her combat lesson over for the night, she moved over to her bed and pulled the sheets down. Maximus played with the hairpins she had on her dresser while she slipped beneath the sheets.

"I'll never understand why you have so many of these," he said over his shoulder, holding one of the pins up for her to see.

"It's called vanity, Maximus. Not all of us live the soldier's life."

He left the pins alone and instead ventured over to her. He removed his armor and weapons piece by piece and set them in a chair before sitting on the bed next to her.

"But you don't need those things, Lucilla. You're always beautiful, especially now. Now your hair is loose and your face is clean of make-up. You're even more beautiful when you sleep. It becomes hard to leave at night."

She stared at him before speaking. "You're already in my good graces, Maximus."

He chuckled, not the reaction she was expecting. Then again, his words only seconds ago weren't exactly him either.

"Why are telling me these things, Maximus?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. Perhaps it's because of Saturnalia. Perhaps it's because I just want to. Maybe I've been keeping these words in for too long."

"Maybe you're just starting to scare me," she interrupted. "It still isn't like you, Maximus. I'm beginning to think there's something else you're trying to tell me."

He shook his head. "There's nothing else, Luci. It's simply a moment of weakness, I suppose."

She sat up quickly. "Do you mean to tell me that Maximus the Merciful is actually willing to share with me?" she asked him sarcastically.

"Don't be like that, Luci," he sighed. "What's wrong?"

She relaxed back into the mattress, pulling the sheets up the sheets up to her chin. "Nothing. I'm just tired, I suppose. Your revelations were too much for me to handle. Saturnalia changes you, Maximus."

"For the better, I hope."

She gave it thought before speaking. "Yes, for the better."

What she didn't know was that he had so many things to tell her. He had so many emotions locked up inside of him that he never could find the time to release. He supposed it was because of his life as a soldier, or possibly his childhood. He found it hard to express at times. He wanted to tell Lucilla how much he loved her, loved spending time with her, loved being near her, but he didn't want to scare her off. When the time was right, he would let her know.

Lucilla only prayed he wouldn't become bored of her or tired of her antics. She knew she pushed him, sometimes further than necessary. She wanted to know he really cared and didn't see her as some play thing. If he could handle it, she'd make him jump leaps and bounds to prove he loved her, that he could handle being with her. She became moody at times, irritated. She tried hard not to feel that way but sometimes her emotions got the best of her and she hated that.

He relaxed against the headboard, then pulled her close to him. Her arm settled across his waist; he caressed her hair gently. They sat in silence for a few moments. They listened to the sounds of the men just outside her second story window, practicing orders with their generals. There was a peaceful breeze floating in from the night sky. It was relaxing, Maximus thought. They never simply sat with one another. They always had something to talk about. 'I suppose that's actually not a bad thing' he thought to himself. They weren't an old married couple yet.

"Why do you fight?"

Maximus started. He'd thought she was asleep.

"What?"

Lucilla tilted her head up towards him. "Why do you fight?"

He looked confused. "What do you mean?"

She sat up on her elbow. "Well, we have a passion in life, correct?" He nodded. "Camidius wants to rule more than anything; that's his passion. You're Sophronia's passion. What's yours?"

He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again. Did he have a passion? He enjoyed fighting; it was the means of his existence. But would he call it his passion? No, he just happened to be good at it. What did he wake up for every morning? A pair of blue eyes and a sweet, not so innocent smile—that's what he woke for everyday. A gentle touch on his forearm, calming him or letting him be aware of the person at his side. A sweet perfume wafting to his nose. Lucilla was the reason he woke everyday. She was his passion.

But he wasn't about to tell her that. Yet.

A small smirk spread across his lips. "I suppose I fight because I'm good at it, but I'm not sure if that's my passion," he answered honestly. "Do you have one?"

She smirked as well. "My only goal is just to be. I have no expectations of my life. I simply want to live. Preferably with a certain handsome general at my side."

"Not that is an expectation," he pointed out to her.

"Yes," she agreed, "but it's also simply a wish. One that I wish would come true."

"Lucilla, even if it happens, it can't be publicly known. I'm merely a general in your father's army, and you're the emperor's daughter. It is a death sentence."

Lucilla sat up all the way. "But you are like a son to him. He would not care; he'd be happy because his daughter is happy. And I know what you're going to say: this isn't like me. I know but I can't help it."

He rubbed her back, trying to soothe her. This trip was certainly abnormal. Normally she would ignore him until he finally sought her out and almost begged her to acknowledge him. Now, she was practically throwing herself into his arms. He didn't hate it, but he didn't know how to handle this new side of her.

"Is your father threatening with marriage again?" he finally asked.

Lucilla nodded. "I think he means it this time, Maximus. You should have seen the look on his face."

"What did you say to make him so mad?"

"We were at breakfast the other day and he was talking about a son of a friend of his and he mentioned a possible marriage between us. I told him not to make assumptions or plan my life out. Apparently that made him angry."

"What did Melania say?"

"She didn't say anything. That's what made it worse. She just sat there and let him yell at me. He's never done that before. I'm never the one he yells at."

"Do you want me o talk to him?"

"No, no, I can't ask you to do that."

He waited a moment before repeating, "Do you want me to talk to him?"

"Could you? I mean, it wouldn't be a burden?"

He chuckled. "Of course not. I'll be happy to do it."

The relieved expression on her face said it all, but he could still see some doubts. He pulled her closer to him and whispered in her ear, "He won't do it, Lucilla. He may threaten but he won't do it."

"How would you know that?" she asked, her words muffled.

"Because he loves you too much to see you unhappy. He might suggest but he'll eventually back out of it."

"Really?" she said after a moment.

"Really. You have my word."

She relaxed back into his arms. She held onto him tight. The fear never left her that one day he might find someone else or never come back to see her. She wanted to enjoy every moment they had together.

She turned her head up towards him and kissed his chin. "Tell me about your childhood."

17 December 173

"It is a beautiful night, Caesar, and an excellent party," Maximus praised his emperor.

Aurelius patted the general on his back. "Thank you, my son. I do enjoy pleasing the people."

"And a fine job you do of it, my dear," Melania spoke from behind the two.

Maximus bowed and kissed her outstretched hand. "Good evening, your Majesty. Or should it be you I call Caesar?"

"Melania will do, Maximus, for we're leaving the role reversal to our guests."

"I would like to join them," Caesar confessed, "but we must retain some sense of decorum."

Melania eyed Maximus as his attention fell to the crowd. She could see why her daughter liked him. He was a very polite man; always aware of who he was speaking to. He was an excellent soldier and faithful, too. He was sometimes too quiet for her liking, though. It seemed he would withdraw into himself at times, leaving others to wonder what he was thinking.

"Maximus? Have you seen Lucilla this evening?" Melania wondered. Maximus focused his attention on the empress.

"No, I have not. Why?" he eyed her questioningly.

Melania shook her head. "No reason."

It wasn't until later that Maximus found the woman of his desire. The festival celebration was still going strong but he found Lucilla in the courtyard, sitting alone on a bench on a bench and staring towards the sky.

He crept up behind her silently and whispered in her ear, "Something catching your eye, princess?"

Lucilla's heart skipped a beat at the sound of the low voice so close but recovered quickly. "Yes, a star a general pointed out to me two winters ago. It is quite beautiful."

Maximus sat next to her on the bench. "You still remember that?"

She smiled but did not look at him. "Of course; I remember everything you've told me."

They sat in silence for a while, simply enjoying the night sky and the warmth the other's body provided.

"Why aren't you inside?" Maximus said finally, breaking the long silence.

"Too many men my father wants me to meet. I can only smile and appear interested for so long," she told him. She finally turned her eyes to his. "Why aren't you inside?"

"I wanted to find you. Besides, there were too many women throwing themselves at me."

She eyed him, showing disapproval.

"I'm teasing, Luci," he assured her, his chuckle inadvertently escaping. "I don't pay attention to them, anyway. But they were being rather aggressive."

"That's because of the holiday. Women take the role reversal serious."

He turned his body towards her. "You would treat me as a servant?"

"An equal," she answered with no hesitation. "Always an equal. My father loves you as a son. My mother treats you as a son-in-law. My siblings see you as one of their own."

He ran a hand across her cheek. "And you?" Her eyes met his and he felt as if he was floating away.

"I worship you as my soul mate."

Lucilla's whispered words had a desired affect on Maximus. His hand slipped around her neck and guided her closer. His lips had barely touched hers when she pulled away. His confusion showed on his face.

"Not out here," she explained as if obvious. "Someone might see."

She stood, her red gown swaying around her legs, and grabbed his hand. He willingly allowed her to pull him along, eager to be alone with her.

They were quiet during their walk to her quarters. Their hands stayed laced together. Maximus listened to the silence of the night, the occasional laughter in the background. He listened to the sound of their shoes against the marble pathway. It was rhythmic, melodic even. He observed Lucilla. Her long, red hair flowed over her shoulders and down her back. Her deep red dress hugged her curves, accentuating her figure. He could smell the faintest aroma—Lucilla's perfume. He'd recognize it anywhere. Her hands glittered in the fire's light from the jewelry adorning them. She was beautiful, always beautiful. She didn't have to put forth effort to become the emperor's daughter. She had an air about her constantly. From the moment Maximus had met her, she made sure he knew exactly who she was. And he loved watching her in her truest form.

As he came to know and understand her more, she let him see the beauty behind the make-up. She allowed him into her own little world, to see who she was when she was simply Lucilla—woman. He loved her all the more for the opportunity. It was different to see her relaxed, but welcome. He didn't have to try so hard to impress her, then.

Lucilla turned her head to look at him with a puzzled look on her face.

"You're awfully quiet," she viewed. She squeezed his hand. "Something wrong?"

Maximus shook his head. "No, nothing's wrong. I was simply thinking about how much my life's changed since I met you."

The corners of her mouth slid up in a smile. "For the better, I hope."

He nodded. "Most definitely for the better."