Marie stretched languidly in her bed, a slight smile playing on her lips. The night before felt like a dream. A wonderful, amazing dream. It hadn’t been a dream, though. Instead it had been a very real truth.
Raising her arms up above her head, Marie stared at her hands. Hands that she had touched Logan with. Even now they were tingling, though they appeared to be no different. Marie could not detect a single difference in her hands in their shape and appearance. There was absolutely no change in her hands after even after she had caressed Logan’s back and face so gently.
Marie’s smile faded almost instantly as she realized that Logan’s morning was bound to be much less enjoyable than hers was. No matter how noble or strong he was, the fact remained that he was a slave. At the moment, Logan had no freedom. His every move was controlled. Logan’s life was no longer in his own hands. Marie hated that. Logan did not deserve to lose all that he had lost.
“I am so sorry, Logan,” Marie whispered, lowering her hands and placing them over her heart. She could feel the sting of tears in her eyes and rapidly blinked them away. Logan would gain nothing from her tears. “I will not be sorry. No. I will do something. Something that will help Logan.... But what can I do?”
Heaving a great sigh, Marie lifted a silk scarf and draped it over her face. For several long minutes, Marie regarded her ceiling through the filter of gauzy blue silk. It offered no revelation, though.
“Jubilation!” Marie called, sitting up and throwing the veil to the side. Throwing a sheet around her body to cover her nakedness, Marie headed towards her wardrobe. “Jubilation, I wish to go into town this morning. Please inform my father of this.”
At first, Marie received nothing but silence in return. She heard footsteps behind her then and spun around on her heel, a brilliant smile on her face. A smile that faded when she saw her father standing behind her.
“You really believe that I will allow you to go into town after that horrid performance last night?” Magnus hissed, glaring at his daughter with dark eyes.
“Father,” Marie squeaked, instinctively backing away from her father. “I did not hear you enter If you will excuse me, I would like dress before you chide me for my behaviour last night,” Marie said calmly, though she could feel her entire body trembling as she spoke.
Magnus turned his nose up at Marie, a look of disgust clearly visible on his features. “Yes, cover up your pure skin which you nearly allowed the barbarian to taint. Your poisoned skin. Come directly into the garden when you are finished. I will have servants prepare you a meal.”
With little more than a swirl of expensive cloths, Magnus was gone. As soon as he was gone from sight, Marie began to tremble visibly, placing a hand over her heart in the vain hope to still its rapid beating.
“Jubil... Jubilation! I need your help!” Marie called with a shaking voice. She slowly made her way out of the wardrobe and sat herself on the stool before her vanity.
Seconds later, Jubilation appeared just out of the corner of her eye. “I am here now, Mistress.”
“Could you please get me my azure gown. The one with the silver embroidery at the hem,” Marie said in a soft voice, her eyes never leaving her reflection in the polished mirror.
She had dropped the sheet so that it was now pooling around her waist, leaving her upper body completely naked. Marie stared at her reflection long and hard while Jubilation retrieved the required gown. Trying to see where the poison lay. Her skin was no different from any other person’s. It was pale an unmarked, yes, but that was from years of protection from the sun and other elements. Any other person would have such skin if their’s was shielded as hers had been. Her skin was smooth and soft, the only alteration in its colour and texture being her nipples which were a burnished russet in colour.
“Do you believe what my father says about my skin? That it is poison?” Marie asked as s he saw Jubilation appear behind her in the reflection.
Jubilation smiled slightly as she carefully picked up the blanket and draped it back over Marie’s shoulders. She then reached for a brush and began running it through Marie’s thick hair. “No, I do not think it is poison. The gods would not create something so beautiful only for it to be left untouched. When the right man comes, he will be able to touch your skin and worship you as you should be.”
Marie sighed and stared down at her hands which were still tingling. “I long for that day more than any other. I am weary of being untouched. I want to know what it feels like to have another touch my skin. To feel a gentle kiss upon my cheek. I fear, though, that it will never happen.”
“What of your barbarian? Did he touch you last night?” Jubilation inquired, an impish grin on her face.
“I have never hated my father’s decree more than I did last night,” Marie said, a soft smile on her face. “To not be able to touch such a glorious creature was almost more than I could bear. He has such exquisite shoulders. All I wanted to do was lie my face against them and breathe in the scent of his skin. Instead, I found myself cleaning wounds that he had received on my behalf....” Marie paused, her grin widening. “He thought I was a goddess. And that his gods had sent me to him to show him one last kindness before his end. He said it with such conviction... And his eyes.... Oh, his eyes....”
Jubilation giggled and set the brush down, reaching for a pair of thin silk gloves. “I do believe that you are falling in love with your barbarian, Mistress.”
“His name is Logan,” Marie clarified, keeping her head steady as Jubilation began twisting strands of her hair back, away from her face. “He is most certainly not a barbarian and I will not have you call him so. If you must speak of him-- which I pray you will not do around my father or Jainus --you will call him by his name and not barbarian.”
“My lips are sealed,” Jubilation assured her.
A short while later, outfitted perfectly as her father’s mystery in flowing silk that covered all but her face, Marie made her way towards the garden. Unsure as to whether there were visitors who had remained behind following the banquet, Marie placed a veil on her head to cover her face. She would have to play the role correctly if she was to avoid her father’s wrath.
After first checking to see that only her father stood in the garden, Marie glided slowly down the marble steps. “You wished to see me, Father.”
Magnus whirled around at the sound of his daughter’s voice, gesturing towards a small table that had been set up for them to dine. “It would seem, my dear, that the night was not as complete a disaster as I had thought it would be.”
Marie stepped into the shaped provided by the awning above the couch, keeping her eyes trained on her father as she reclined on the luxuriant couch. “I am glad to hear that you are pleased with your venture.”
“Oh, I am most pleased, daughter of mine,” Magnus agreed, joining her on the couch.
There was something about his smile that had Marie instantly worried. After what had happened the previous night, Marie had expected a long lecture from him. At the very least some angry shouts. This calmness was incredibly unnerving.
“It would seem as though our mystery is almost at an end,” Magnus said as he reached towards the table for a plum.
Trying her best to act demure, Marie glanced down at her lap. “Whatever do you mean, Father?”
“You are to be married in eight days,” Magnus announced, a pleased smile on his face.
Marie was on her feet in an instant, ripping the veil from her head. “I will not be married away at your whim! I refuse!”
“I am afraid that you have no choice, my dear,” Magnus said casually. “It has already been arranged. I would have preferred the ceremony to be performed tomorrow, but that is the day the Saturnalia begins tomorrow and it is forbidden. So, instead we will celebrate for seven days, enjoy the festivities, and when they are over you shall be wed to Divinicus Paintes Scott. His family is very old and very powerful and this is just the alignment we need.”
“No! I will not be married off like that! I will not marry this man!” Marie screamed, knocking a plateful of fruit into her father’s lap. “I am not some horse for you to sell! I am you daughter and I will not marry this man!”
Magnus stood abruptly, pushing the plate aside and grabbing Marie’s upper arms in a painful grip. “You will do as I say, daughter,” Magnus snarled, lowering his face so that it was barely a hairsbreadth away from hers. “You will marry Scott whether you like it or no. His father and I came to the arrangement last night and I will not be shamed by your refusal. As soon as the first rays of light touch the ground the day after the Saturnalia ends, you and Scott will be married.”
Marie tried to pull herself out of her father’s grip, but his fingers dug in tight. Marie was quite sure that there would be bruises left behind by his fingers that he would undoubtedly force her to hide behind thick golden armbands.
“I will not marry him,” Marie insisted, using every ounce of willpower she possessed to keep the tears at bay.
“I’m afraid, my dear, that the choice is not yours,” Magnus said casually before releasing Marie’s arms. “It will happen. Eight days from now.”
With that, Magnus walked calmly from the garden as though nothing had happened.
As soon as he was gone, Marie took off running in the other direction. She sprinted through the garden’s western gates and into the forest beyond. Alone now, Marie didn’t care about the tears. She let them come, staining her cheeks as she tore through the woods at a breakneck speed.
When she came upon a small, grassy field, Marie collapsed in a heap. She buried her face in her arms and broke out into long, hitching sobs that shook her tiny frame to its core. For the first time in her life, Marie felt completely helpless and she hated it. Hated that her father was able to do that to her. Marie was trapped and had little chance of escaping her father’s edict.
Once she had cried all her tears, Marie rolled onto her back. Still sniffling quietly, she stared up at the sky and the clouds that floated in it. An eagle flew overhead, dipped its wings slightly then took off in a whole other direction.
There was a sudden shift in the clouds which sent a ray of sunlight directly into Marie’s eyes. She held up her hands to shield her eyes and realized that they still tingled faintly. Her blood seemed to hum as it travelled through her veins. Keeping her left hand up to block most of the light, Marie lowered her right hand to stare at the pulsing blue vein that ran down from her hand to the rest of her body.
“Were I to kill myself, I would die with honour,” Marie said softly, flexing her wrist slightly. “Still, my father would win so I can not do that. Nor will I marry the man he has chosen for me. No. There will be no wedding in eight days. At least not for Scott and I. Somehow, I will find a way around it.”
Marie lowered her right hand, placing it over her heart. Marie heaved a great sigh and closed her eyes against the bright morning light as she placed her other hand on her stomach, trailing her fingers lowly up and down.
“In seven days I will leave,” Marie whispered silently, her lips barely moving. “I will be gone from Rome and will never return.”
Saying it was one thing. Marie knew that it would take a great deal more to make it come true. And, until then, she would have to play the part of the dutiful daughter. Marie must make a peace with her father and play the role of a mystery for the next seven days.