The Lady Out of Time

19 - Uninvited

What Marcellus didn't know was that Julia enjoyed riding horses. It was a small celebration whenever she went for a run with the rest of her colleagues at the equestrian center outside of New York City, a chance to breathe in the rural outdoors and get away from the concrete jungle where she lived. Indeed, she went every other Sunday and had done so for the past four years, so while she was no expert, she was damn sure she was better than some wet-behind-the-ears child who needed a s***k or two to get that raging, baseless confidence under control.

There were a number of complications, though. For one thing, she didn't have all the equipment she was accustomed to having at her disposal whenever she went for a ride. The bridle and reins and the strange, four pronged saddle - everything was so much more primitive and inconvenient that she was half-tempted to draw up plans to make superior versions on the spot. But that would have to wait. She had only one priority right now, and that was to kick cocky teenager ass as soon as the stable hand brought out their horses.

"What are you looking at so closely for?" Marcellus asked as he loomed over her shoulder. "Do you want me to tell you what each of those do?"

Oh, hell no. She was two seconds away from wrapping her hands around his throat and making him unable to ever speak so patronizingly to anyone ever again. It was even worse than if he were doing it to deliberately provoke her, because she could tell by the tone of his voice that he thought he was flirting with her. But he wasn't. And in order to instill that lesson firmly in his head forevermore, she was going to have to grind his ego into dust and make sure he wept himself a fine river that he could row himself out to sea on.

"Oh, don't worry," she said, her every syllable poisonously sweet. "I'm sure I can beat you even without knowing what a single one of these things are. Oh, look how shiny this is, so nice."

She continued to hurl several more gibes at him with all possible grace until finally, he scurried away toward his own equipment with an indignant assurance that he would never lose to her.

"So when I win," he said, "which I will, that means you'll do everything that I say, right?"

She rolled her eyes. First of all, even if he had a snowball's chance in hell of winning against her, he had no leverage at all to make her own up to those stakes. She'd never established what would happen if he won, after all, only what would happen when she took victory for herself. And besides that, even if he did somehow manage to get her to agree, what methods would he use to make her pay up? Ha. The worst he could do was stomp his feet and say that she was dishonest...as if that would affect her in the least. She was a goddamn lawyer. One with integrity maybe (well, more of it than other lawyers), but she was still used to the names. It wouldn't even make her blink.

Of course, that was all assuming he got her to agree in the first place. Which wasn't happening, because she always left room for freak accidents like her horse breaking a leg. Absolutely not.

When the stable hand brought out both of their horses at the same time, they were standing ready outside in the grass with the rough gear in their hands. As expected, Marcellus took the bigger of the two with no regard for anything else, and he slapped the hard leather saddle over the horse's back with a premature crow of victory.

Ah, but soon he would learn that size wasn't everything. With a cursory inspection of her horse's legs and hooves, she finally circled around and secured the saddle the best she could, given that it was terrible compared to what she normally used. And sure, she was a little rusty since it had been almost three months now since her last trip to the equestrian center, but she knew how to put these things together from a glance.

Marcellus apparently had been of the opinion that preparing was also a race, and he pulled himself up onto his steed with a loud, hasty huff. i***t. She gathered up her stola so that she didn't trip and used a raised platform to pull herself up onto her horse. No stirrup, unfortunately - she mourned that they wouldn't be invented for another few hundred years. Maybe she could go ahead and change that when she had the chance -

- and then a sudden thought occurred to her. If she changed history, would it affect her timeline as well? Or was this a parallel world that wouldn't affect her present life? It sent a horrific chill through her to think that her actions might somehow cause her to be unborn in the future, that she might never be able to return.

"If you're scared, you don't have to do this. Trust me, we can go slow. I'm happy to show you how to do this the right way. Besides, you don't have to prove anything to me, which I know you're trying to do. I already think you're beautiful, so that's enough. Say, after a little lesson, how about I walk you around a little?"

Never mind. Worry about the space-time continuum later, kick cocky teenager ass now. He really thought he was so smooth. She wished she could see the face he would make if he ever realized he was hitting on a woman fifteen years his senior.

"Aw, that's cute," she hummed as she rearranged her stola around her knees in the saddle. From several feet away, Marcellus caught a glimpse of her calf, and a dazed look entered his eyes. Oh, great. A hormonal teenager catching sight of a stray ankle - the world was about to end. She scoffed and sat up straight in her saddle before leaning forward to take the reins, rubbing soothing circles into her horse's neck. It whickered at her touch and tossed its head a few times, hooves scuffing the dirt with experimental taps. Excellent. A steady girl, just like she was.

"Alright," she said loudly to get Marcellus's attention. His head jerked up from her still-exposed ankle. "We start outside the atrium entrance, and go once around the villa. Then we finish at the pond down the way. Agreed?"

He seemed surprised that she would take the initiative in determining the route. Ha.

"Anything goes for me. Be careful though, really. I'm only doing this to show you how difficult horse riding can be, but once we're done, I'll give you lessons every day if you want -"

"Alright, we need someone to give a signal for us to start. You! Sir! Come back here, please. Yes, you." She was twisted in her seat and gestured back at the stable hand who stood silently outside the structure. Too late, she realized that the man was on the verge of convulsions at having been addressed as 'sir.' God, she would never get used to the inherent sense of inferiority that these people relied on to live their lives. "If you could follow us to the atrium and be the impartial judge -"

"Not that we'll need one -"

Alright, yes, Marcellus was going to perish in her sight today. "I would be SO grateful," she continued in a louder voice. "Would you mind?"

"Of - of course not, Your Ladyship. I would be honored."

Wonderful. The hour of s******g was nigh. She followed the brisk, hurried pace of the stable hand toward the villa's exit as did Marcellus, who was still chattering away about all the plans he had for them 'after he won.' And - was he seriously planning dates? Was that what he was doing? Oh, please. Where the hell was this child's mother, and why didn't she have him on a backpack leash?

When the stable hand gave them the signal with a downward slice of his arm, she took off like a bullet with the boy hard on her heels. The villa wasn't a sprawling one, but it was large enough to give either one of them the chance to pull ahead with a last ditch burst. She needed to put as much distance between herself and Marcellus as possible so that he couldn't pull and sprint past her in the last stretch.

His horse was bigger, possibly a little more powerful when it came to last minute pushes. But she was far lighter, and she also had the advantage with a horse that responded well to her unspoken, physical commands. A squeeze of her left knee had the horse turning just as they raced around the second corner, now two full lengths ahead of the boy, and her baby hadn't even started to kick up a sweat yet. She could hear him shouting frustrated commands and curses behind her, and she imagined that both she and her horse were both snickering at his futile efforts.

Another squeeze of her knee, and they were zipping around the third corner so low to the ground that another rider might have fallen off. Indeed, if she were in her normal body which was probably at least thirty pounds heavier due to muscle and height, she might have slipped off the saddle because of the lack of stirrups. But she clung low to her horse's neck and pressed her face into its now windswept mane, listening to the thundering of its hooves pounding on the grassy dirt below. Her eyes peered ahead at the last corner, and by now, Marcellus was at least half a dozen lengths behind judging by the increasingly distant sounds he made. There wasn't a chance he was going to pass her now, but she wasn't about to slow down even still. Her corner turns had been a little late, and she wasn't going to screw herself with a premature victory dance.

The last corner now. Dust and dirt and broken glass blades were probably whipping up in the air behind her, slowing down Marcellus and his horse even more. She grinned. How far back was he now? She didn't look back for fear of shifting her weight and slowing down - not that she was afraid of losing because of it, but because the bigger her lead, the more chastising it would be once he realized how badly he had lost. Onward, onward, go, go! She gave her horse another encouraging squeeze with both knees this time, and it charged forward almost flat out. A sheen of sweat laced its brown coat as it tore up the ground, and her hands squeezed around the reins as she leaned forward, forward, forward, so close! Yes! Not even fifteen feet left to go, and then she could turn around and crow at Marcellus as he approached -

Something whipped past her in a flurry of heavy, powerful hooves a single nose length ahead. It happened so fast that she didn't realize what had happened until she brought her horse to a stop in front of the waiting stable hand, whose nervous eyes darted between her and...the winner?

Impossible. Marcellus had been so far behind her that she couldn't even hear the panting of his horse anymore. How -?

Because it wasn't Marcellus at all, she realized a second later. She remained on her horse, staring blankly after Tiberius who slid down to the ground and began leading his stallion away by the reins. He didn't say a word, didn't even look at her as he left. The red and orange twin sashes that he had been wearing earlier were gone, leaving only his white toga. Without them, he looked even sterner than before, even from the back: sterile and white and inhuman.

She continued to stare even after Marcus came tearing up on his horse at long last and slowed down to circle around her in a slow trot. His horse looked wrecked, him even more so - but in silence, he stopped to stare after Tiberius as well. They were cousins, weren't they? They had likely grown up together like brothers, and they couldn't be any more different. Loud, brash, Marcellus who thought he had a silver tongue. Tiberius the severe one, serious and fierce, eagle eyed. How old were they, really? Tiberius had to be the older of the two of them, right? She didn't like his temperament - it made her uneasy - but it wasn't a childish one.

What was his problem? He hadn't said a word all last night to anyone at all, content to brood and stare with a dark look on his face. And the first thing he had done upon seeing her this morning had been to accuse her of being an imposter. And now this?

It was supposed to have been a race between Marcellus and herself, nothing more. He shouldn't have included himself in their face-off. Who had even invited him?

They both continued to stare after Tiberius, until he passed through the villa's entrance with his horse and disappeared.