Love Is in the Air by Carolyn McCray

Author:Carolyn McCray [Carolyn McCray]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Goodreads: 17371751
Publisher: Off Our Meds MultiMedia
Published: 2013-02-01T13:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 14

Brutus could not imagine a more racking torture than to sit next to his wife at this elaborate celebration. Even though the torchlight sparkled against the polished shields all around the Forum, this was the darkest night of his life. The full-bodied wine brought from Julius’ personal cellar tasted flat in his mouth. The tender pastries dissolved upon his tongue, yet left no taste. The hearty laughter all around him fell upon sullen ears.

Caesar’s celebration was a grand success, and Brutus was all the more miserable for it. All he could think of was Syra’s wounded face when he had banished her from the celebration. Even Horat had looked scandalized. Brutus knew that one day they would understand that the pain he had inflicted upon them was worthy, but this knowledge did not lighten his heart.

“Dear, smile. You are not in a funeral procession,” Lylith chided, even though she wore a false grin of her own. “Artemidorus is trying to tell you of our king’s new plans for the Curia.”

Brutus did not bother to correct his wife that Caesar was not yet king. Besides, the woman was only a few days premature in her proclamation. Turning to the flabby senator, Brutus made sure that he nodded at all the right intervals. Suddenly, the portly Roman’s tone dropped.

“Cassius seeks you tonight.”

Normally Brutus ignored Artemidorus. The man was always sniveling about an ailment of his bowels or complaining that the Senate was not protecting his monopoly of the tangerine trade. What would the obese man know of Cassius’ plans?

“Then he can find me here.”

“Beware—”

Before the senator could speak his warning, Lylith’s shrill voice pieced their conversation.

“Where is that serving girl? My glass has gone empty again.”

While Brutus had yet to finish a single goblet, his wife had just drained her third. He turned to Artemidorus, but the enormous man was out of his chair and heading toward the exit. Was Cassius so desperate for conspirators that he had taken even the hypochondriac into his confidence?

Brutus did not need Artemidorus’ prompting to fear for his life this night. All the signs were clear that both sides of Rome’s internal struggle had run out of patience. Brutus had best decide which side he disliked the least before the decision was taken from him.

“I will have the girl fired,” Lylith continued as if a fourth glass of wine was the most important matter on his mind.

Brutus picked up Lylith’s gilded cup. “I shall be back.”

His wife batted her eyes, as if it were the single most romantic gesture he had ever made. “Thank you, my sweet.”

Disgust brought such a bitter taste to his mouth that he could not reply. Brutus simply rose and headed to the nearest servant bearing wine. He declined a glass for himself, wondering if the boy with the cup had been planted to poison him. The food most likely tasted dull because with every bite, Brutus had wondered if it was somehow tainted. Or perhaps the next servant he saw would wield a stealthy knife.

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