Caius
1013 Words
I didn’t take my eyes off the man as he stepped back to look at me.
He was wearing armor even more dazzling than the set the gladiator had been wearing at the Forum, and I nearly said that word again - gladiator.
His breastplate looked like it was made of real gold, and the tunic that was beneath it was a rich crimson, the same shade as the polished stone walls of the room. Crimson and gold armor for a man who had a crimson room with gold fittings; the armor was excessively lavish as the room.
Excessively lavish but, I noted, not impractical. He could fight in this if he needed to.
He was smirking as he looked at me, and I was filled with a blinding rage. I wanted to snarl at him and to act like the wild beast his people thought I was until I finally realized what he had said to me: you are lucky I like spirited women.
The smirk remained fixed on his face as my jaw dropped.
“How did you…?”
He waved off my question, and the fact that I was clearly in awe, by responding as if that should have been obvious from looking at him.
“I am a very well traveled man, and yours is not a difficult language to master.”
“What do you want from me?”
I hadn’t had a chance to ask that, yet. The only thing I knew was that my new role here was that of a Courtesan, and I didn’t really understand what that meant.
This man was clearly rich and powerful; he could afford to keep a whole army of women to entertain him if he wanted to. But he was young and attractive, and I don’t think that a rich, young, attractive, powerful man would have trouble finding someone to keep him company without the need to part with any money.
“I haven’t decided what I want from you yet.” His smirk twisted into something darker, and it made me shudder,"... what do you want from me?”
My freedom. Vengeance. A chance to get away from this huge city filled with strange people.
I smiled coolly and folded my arms loosely. It was a move that I had calculated carefully - I wanted to look like he wasn’t getting to me, and I was conscious of the way the sheer gauze I was wearing was clinging to my breasts and the fact that it was leaving nothing to this strange man’s imagination.
He raised his eyebrow, and looked down at my chest, and then back up at me.
“Are you cold?”
Of course, I wasn’t. The air here was balmy, and it was so hot that it was almost sticky. I was used to a different kind of heat, even in the summer months.
“I am confused. I asked you what you wanted from me, and you didn’t give me a straight answer. I know that money was exchanged for me to stand before you like this, and yet you are telling me you don’t know what you want. "
He laughed, and it sounded cruel.
“Were you expecting me to f**k you? You must be very disappointed. "
“You have called for a courtesan at this time of night, and I am in here with you alone.”
He laughed again.
“I see - Rin didn’t explain any of this to you.”
Who was Rin? The soldier? The woman who decided I was going to become a courtesan? Or the woman who paid two gold coins and one piece of silver to purchase me?
“There has been a language barrier to contend with.”
His eyes glittered - apparently, he appreciated my humor.
“Perhaps we should start again, and I will explain this to you the way she should have before she dragged you across the city to see me.”
So, Rin was the woman who provided me with the clothes I was wearing.
The man turned away from me - he didn’t see me as a threat, and he was not concerned about me trying to hurt him.
He walked to the edge of the room and sat down on a bench carved from the same glossy red stone that was covering the walls.
He gestured for me to sit beside him, and I took a deep breath and gritted my teeth as I approached him, because as infuriating as this was, I had to do as I was told and try to figure out what was happening so I could try and figure out a way out of this situation.
The bench was cold and smooth. The thin layer of material between me and the stone was doing nothing to make it comfortable for me, and the man bit his lip teasingly as he noticed me trying to get comfortable with the freezing stone against me.
“Talia.”
I gave him my name as a way of humanizing myself, and to stop him from staring at me as if he was deciding if I was worth his attention or not.
“I didn’t ask your name.”
“You said…”
“I told you I was going to explain this to you - I didn’t imply there would be a conversation, did I?”
I shifted further away from him on the bench.
He stayed where he was, and smirked again because he was finding my discomfort and confusion entertaining.
“Perhaps you would like me to tell you my name, Talia?”
I shrugged. I didn’t really care what his name was; he was a cold psychopath no matter what he was called.
“My name is Caius.”
He paused, waiting for my response. He wanted to see that flicker of recognition in my eyes, and then the shock, horror, surprise… and whatever else I was supposed to feel when I realized that I was talking to the Emperor.
- Writer
