The Lady Out of Time

14 - Impressions

 Julia was ecstatic. After weeks and weeks of nonstop work, she was about to see it all coming to fruition before her very eyes. Oh, she knew that present society was far too hostile to women for her to ever enjoy proper credit for all her efforts, but she had needed something like this - for herself. It killed a part of her to know that she would walk the streets from tomorrow on and people would never know what she had accomplished, but on the other hand, this undertaking was the only reason she felt so alive.

She was still coping, of course. It wasn't possible to recover so easily from the blow of realizing she might be trapped here forever. It took her a week of exhausting herself from morning until night before her body gave in and finally allowed itself a full night's rest instead of waking up every hour. But even then, she woke up with the sun filled to the brim with dread and always on the brink of being overwhelmed.

Trapped, like an animal in a cage. She might never wake up in her own bed again, never dress the way she wanted, never eat the things she felt like enjoying. She would spend the rest of her life under the chains of this society because there was no room at all for a woman to be self-sufficient here, not without attaining impossible standards that she had no chance of meeting. An Ivy League education, nearly a decade of experience, her reputation as New York City's most fearsome divorce attorney - none of that meant anything here, and it wouldn't for another two thousand years.

She didn't want to think about whether time had stopped for her in the modern day like an insect trapped in amber, or whether it went on without her just the same, her face on missing posters taped around the city. It would destroy her.

So that was why she had thrown herself into the work. Besides Agrippa's defendant system carrying real promise and unbelievable potential for advancing this society's legal proceedings, she had needed something to bury herself in so deeply that she couldn't feel sorry for herself. She had never done that in thirty odd years of living, and she wouldn't start now. Not even if she was trapped in a foreign body that still felt unfamiliar in the mornings when she first awoke, as if she had to expand every morning to fit into its skin.

"Julia?"

She looked up. She couldn't believe she had let herself drift off in her own thoughts on such a day - what was she thinking? They were about to make history, and if she had no choice but to remain a prisoner of these ancient times, she could think of no way more worthwhile to live her life than to leave an indelible stamp upon the world in passing. She would not go through all of this just to live an empty, forgettable life.

"Sorry, was thinking about what to say when they ask me how I could possibly come up with such brilliant ideas."

At her swaggering response, Agrippa rolled his eyes at her before pushing out the door of the carriage and stepping out. She pinched the hem of her long tunic dress before following suit, but just as she began to reach for his arm for support, he ignored it and simply wrapped his hands around her waist. He picked her up with ease and set her down on the ground with no visible effort, and she stood there blinking in surprise as he turned around and closed the door behind them.

He had never done that before. Had he been so impatient that he couldn't wait for her to step down with care? She hadn't wanted to fall down on her face and humiliate herself in front of all the high-class denizens of the area passing by; of course she'd been careful.

But if all it took was taking a little too long to get down from the carriage to get the general's strong hands on her like that again, she knew what she was planning to do from now on. She vowed never to take less than a century's time in the future. My, she wanted to say, how big and strong your hands are, all the better to grab me with like that again -

But she couldn't tease him like that here, she realized as she glanced around at their location. They were in a different part of Rome now,  even if there were still the gently rolling hills about that characterized the countryside on the outer parts of the city. She didn't recognize this place.

"Where are we?"

"The Palatine Hills," Agrippa replied in a low voice, and he took her by the elbow to guide her down the stone path that cut through the verdant grass. Up ahead, a beautiful villa awaited them, made of a beautiful arrangement of stone and bricks of varying pale shades. A lovely place that rivaled even their own, thought Julia.

"Why are we here? I thought we were going to see the emperor."

"This is where he lives."

Surprised, she turned her gaze back to the beautiful manor and inspected it once more, this time with a more attentive eye. Interesting - why was it that an emperor lived in such a place instead of a grand palace? Not that this villa was by any means small or unimpressive; what it lacked in sheer size, it made up for with gentle grace and unmistakable class. No one would ever mistake this place for the home of just any wealthy citizen. But even so, where were the majestic pillars, the towering statues, the massive halls? Surely the famed emperor of old wouldn't have been content with residing in a place like this.

She tried to remember back to her old Latin Studies classes, but she recalled nothing of emperors' domiciles. All that came to mind was endless conjugations and extensive examinations into tenets of government function. Figured.

She made sure to walk slightly behind Agrippa this time. Even without an explicit warning, she knew that this was no place for her to push social boundaries. This was the central domain of Rome, the house of the emperor. From here, everything flowed.

They entered the beautiful courtyard through the elegant stone archway positioned in the middle of the villa's facade. Others joined them as they walked, no doubt a selection of other statesmen who would be watching Agrippa present the new defendant system today. It was a small group, no more than a dozen or so, and when they stopped upon entering the main hallway, they all stepped up with visible eagerness to greet and shake hands with the general, offering enthusiastic congratulations for all his recent accomplishments.

Julia was careful to keep her eyes down all the while, of course. Making direct eye contact with any one of them without express permission was a crime punishable by death, and being dragged outside to be stoned was not in her itinerary for today. Not only that, but she had to go so far as to kneel and sit back with her hands on her knees, head lowered in obsequious fashion because, well, why not? Slaves weren't people, were they?

Down, she told herself sternly. This was not one of the battles she was going to win. She needed to be careful and pick them wisely.

...But even so, she vowed that she would never let herself become accustomed to this position. One day, she vowed, she would be looking every man and woman in the room right now with fearless eyes staring straight ahead. Give these people a little taste of New York independence and see how they liked that.

At least the breeze was nice as it came in through the archway of the hall. She could let it distract her in the meantime and soothe her chafed pride.. But really, how much longer was she going to have to stay this way? Her legs were starting to give in to pins and needles already.

As she counted the seconds that passed, she listened carefully to the voices around her, trying to discern their identities that way since she couldn't risk looking up. But out of the mix of male and female voices, none sounded familiar. She might have accompanied Agrippa to several council meetings, but there were hundreds of statesmen present each time: it was unsurprising that she couldn't pin a face to a particular voice yet.

What she did know was that one noblewoman in particular was the loudest. There was something unpleasantly glib in her tone, as if she were trying especially hard to prove she was by far the most sophisticated and elegant in the room. And for some reason, everyone seemed to accept it and all but kowtow to her, showering her with praises if they weren't doing the same to Agrippa at that moment. She led the conversation around and around, skirting only useless subjects that made Julia want to clap her hands over her ears out of pure irritation. Who was she, and why were they all tolerating her superficial, unintelligent conversation?

She came drifting closer and closer as she mingled with the members of the group and chattered away, until finally she passed by directly in front of Julia. Just then, another breeze came curling through the hall from the courtyard, cooling Julia's face for a blessed moment - and also lifting the end of the loud noblewoman's shawl piece and making it billow to the side. It brushed Julia's face only slightly, but with a contemptuous noise, she yanked it away as if it might, what, contract slave-itis?

But Julia knew the routine. She bowed her head in apology despite having done nothing wrong, and sure enough, the woman actually turned to face her to receive it as if it was well-deserved -

- and let out a scream when Julia lifted her head. Despite herself, she jerked in surprise and looked all the way up to find that the woman was staring at her in undisguised horror, both hands covering her mouth as if she were afraid something would fly in. What in the world? She looked like she had seen a ghost, but Julia knew for a fact that she had never met this loud harpy before. With an apprehensive frown, she looked around to find that everyone had turned to stare at them thanks to the ruckus.

Wonderful. This wasn't the kind of attention she had been hoping to get, but one by one, they all craned their necks to get a better look at her - only to share their queen bee's reaction. Murmurs that she couldn't quite catch spread among the group, and she scrambled to her feet just in case she had to make a break for it. She didn't care what she had to do to stay alive, but she was not going to die as some unknown slave in Ancient Rome, never -

Just as Agrippa extended an arm across her body as if to ward everyone's attention away from her, someone else appeared in the hallway between the two pillars at the entrance. Dressed in a vibrant white-and-purple toga, the man approached them with long, slow strides, drawing everyone's attention to him now instead.

The reaction of everyone in the room was instantaneous, from Agrippa to the noblewoman to the boisterous man in the far back who had been demanding that everyone move aside so that he could get a closer look at Julia. In unison, they bowed their heads and fell silent as the newcomer drew close, the hem of his toga brushing along the smooth floor behind him.

Even Julia found herself mirroring their reactions before she realized it. There was something so regal and wise about the man's air that even she couldn't deny his natural authority. His presence exuded power that she never would have thought possible for her to bow her head to, not with her firestorm self. Before today, she had never felt anything quite like this. The white streaks in his hair along with the few aged lines that creased his face did nothing to minimize his aura of strength.

This had to be the emperor, the most powerful person in all of Rome, Italy, and beyond. Arguably the most powerful man on Earth right now. This man, thought Julia, could be no other than Augustus.

Everyone had lifted their heads again by now, so she wasn't alone in staring at the man any longer. And he, too, let his calm gaze slide from face to face, taking each of them in and nodding at them one by one. Until finally he greeted Agrippa with a smile, and then looked down at Julia who was standing by his elbow.

Suddenly, the man's eyes widened, and he took two steps forward that she immediately discerned was involuntary. And just like with the others, the emperor's face froze in an expression of amazement and shock as he stared and stared. His mouth opened, eyes wide -

"Scribonia?"