Rogue of Taurus

On Friday evening, to celebrate the first day of Saturnalia, Livia wore a high-necked halter top gown that curved tightly over her hips. She didn’t love the cut, but it was the perfect shade of red. Livia worried about being too cold in the winter weather and worked to find a coat that would match her dress. Unfortunately, the red was too bold to go with black without looking garish.

Alia, Corvin’s sister, had offered a floor-sweeping navy cape that was the perfect shade. She’d warned Livia that people would talk about her wearing blue because it was a Lupus House shade, but Livia didn’t care. The next fashion hurdle was finding the perfect shoes. Eventually, Caecilia convinced her she had no choice but to wear red high heels. Resigned to her fate, Livia accepted the pair of heels Caecilia offered.

Corvin brought Alia’s cloak with him when he picked Livia up. He wrapped the warm wool fabric around her shoulders as he admired her dress. “You look fabulous.”

Livia smiled at the clever compliment. “Aren’t I always Fabulous?” she joked.

Corvin looked into her eyes and stroked her jaw with his thumb. “Always.”

She lowered her gaze from his shyly, but the compliment pleased her. She pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and came away with the strong scent of pine in her nose. Corvin had switched up how he smelled, and she liked it.

“Shall we?” Corvin asked, gesturing to the door. Livia nodded. The night had officially started.

The entire subforum was decorated for the holiday. Bright red poinsettias flanked each staircase. Evergreen garlands draped over every doorway. Long strings of lights hung across the whole width of the forum, lending a soft, magical glow to the entire space. Livia slowed and pulled Corvin’s hand into hers, wanting to enjoy the moment with him. He smiled down at her. “Nice, isn’t it?”

She nodded.

“Hurry,” Epiphany urged. “We only have an hour until the games start.”

Livia looked at Corvin in a panic. “Games?”

“The mini-games, Liv,” Corvin said. “Didn’t you play last year?”

“No. We didn’t play games. We ate a lot of food, took pictures—”

Epiphany gasped. “We can’t forget the pictures!”

Corvin laughed. “The Patricians play silly games so the plebs can laugh at us.”

“Oh, no,” Livia said. “Are they embarrassing?”

“Some of them are,” Corvin said, amused. “You’ll survive. Besides, Ancus Sempronius will be there,” he said.

Livia sighed. “No way out but through, then?”

“As always,” Corvin agreed.

“Bring it.”

Corvin and his sisters laughed at Livia’s declaration and then dragged everyone over to get in line for the picture booth. First, they took pictures together as a group, and then Livia and Corvin took pictures as a couple.

They ate honey-roasted almonds while they were still warm and drank spiced cider. These were the small things she remembered doing with Arik. Then they reported to the Temple of Saturn. Livia recalled this part too. They did a ceremony to announce the start of the Saturnalia festival. The entire week would be full of parties everyone decided to throw all at once.

Lorin, the Paterfamilias of Rattus House, stood with his wife, Irene. Once the woman had become Materfamilias of Rattus House, dozens of families had named their daughters after her—Livia’s coworker included. Livia could understand why as she watched the Materfamilias of Rattus House there on the stairs. The tall columns of the temple behind her enhanced the drama of her emerald dress, which sparkled with light each time she moved. The woman had an ethereal beauty and regal bearing. Lorin gave a short welcome greeting. Afterward, Irene announced an offering to Saturn, and a hymn of remembrance would precede the games.

Tarquin Sempronius, the second eldest child of the Rattus House couple, offered a sacrifice of red fruits without any drama. Then hushed voices started singing a chant. Livia looked around to see the singers and couldn’t find them anywhere. Corvin touched her shoulder and pointed. The chorus proceeded to the temple steps from paths on either side of the stairs. They each carried a candle and climbed the empty staircase, voices growing louder as they gathered more and more of their number.

Chills rose on Livia’s arms as she listened to the beautiful melody and powerful singers. They sang several songs and then departed the stairs chanting the same soft hymn as they did when they ascended the steps.

Lorin and Irene called up the patrician families by name to participate in the games. Livia hesitated when they called the Tullian clan, wondering if she should follow. But a second later, “Fabius” was called, and Livia walked up the steps with Corvin and his sisters.

They went into the depths of the Temple of Saturn and saw several games set up in front of cameras. Ah, Livia remembered. She and Arik had chosen to go home instead of watching the games on the screens outside.

Corvin pointed Ancus out to her. He stood over by half-a-dozen balance beams. He dressed in matching slacks and a waistcoat in a deep emerald hue. Stark against his crisp white dress shirt, his equally emerald tie had a diamond pattern etched out in lines of fine gold thread, complementing the gold buttons on his waistcoat. Livia looked at Corvin to compare them and noticed a formal uniform. Corvin wore a vivid shade of royal blue slacks and a matching waistcoat, the buttons a dull pewter. Corvin’s sky blue dress shirt was the same shade as his tie, making his look feel more understated and sophisticated. Both men had women approach and take their coats to be hung on a rack by the door.

When Livia approached Ancus, he gave her a dubious look, “Well, are you jumping the ship, Liv?”

“Jumping the ship?” she asked.

“You’re wearing blue,” he gestured elegantly to her cloak.

Livia fingered the edge of the wool fabric. “You’re asking if I’m joining Lupus House?”

He smiled and tilted his head, amused, as if she’d given too much information away. “Are you?”

Livia was flustered. Was he asking if she was engaged? Already? “Not…yet.”

Why did she keep letting those little ‘yets’ keep slipping in?

Ancus’ smile widened. “You dating? Corvin?”

She nodded. “Corvin.”

He lowered his chin and spoke to her with a degree of familiarity that was surprising from an acquaintance. “Is he taking care of you? Cause we could talk.”

Livia took a step back. “Talk? Do you mean to Corvin? About what?”

Ancus shook his head, frowning. “No. Me and you. Did you know we’re closer in age? Corvin is a little old for you.” His nose crinkled up in a faux display of disgust.

Livia laughed. She shouldn’t, but Ancus’s sardonic tone made it impossible to repress. She knew he was joking about Corvin’s age. He wasn’t so much older than her to raise eyebrows.

“Ancus!” she scolded him for flirting with her.

He winked at her. “You are definitely the catch of the decade.”

Livia turned her head away. She spoke in a neutral voice to discourage him but not insult him. “Corvin treats me fine. I have no complaints.”

And more baffling, Ancus looked pleased by that. “Good.”

“Livia,” he said. “You’ll need to remove your coat. Like everyone else. If you don’t, you’ll be criticized.”

Livia undid the clasp and removed it from her shoulders. “No one came to take it?”

Ancus’ eyebrows rose. “Indeed. You’ve been plotted against.”

Livia’s eyes scanned the room with a paranoid panic. Ancus touched her wrist lightly, pulling her eyes to his in surprise.

“I’ll let no harm come to you. Let me take your cloak. I’ll take care of it for you.”

Livia hesitated to accept his kindness. He noticed, giving her a questioning look. Finally, she surrendered her cloak to him. He strode away and handed the cloak to the girl near the coat racks. She accepted the cloak and hung it without complaint.

Ancus returned. “I compliment you on your style for the evening. Red suits you.”

“Corvin says the same,” Livia said.

“What man wouldn’t?” Ancus quipped, flirtatious again.

Livia pulled out her phone when it buzzed. Corvin had sent a text.

How does it go?

Livia: He’s flirting with me. What do I do?”

Corvin: Flirt back.

Livia: What?

Corvin: Compliment him. It makes time pass quickly when you’re kind to your partner.

Livia put her phone down.

“Everything alright?” Ancus asked.

“Caesarea is so confusing,” she blurted.

Ancus laughed. “You must explain.”

Livia shook her head. “No.”

“Come, do tell,” he said, amused.

“I do like your tie,” Livia said to obey Corvin and distract Ancus.

“Do you?” he asked, looking down at it.

“I like the fine gold threading,” Livia said. “Very striking.”

Ancus’ looked pleased. “Thank you. Not often a man gets a compliment for his style. Though, some of us work just as hard as the ladies.”

“It shows,” Livia said. “I like that your buttons have sunbursts on them. Are you partial to Apollo?”

Ancus’ looked even more pleased. “We share a love for the lyre.”

“Do you play? Really?” Livia asked.

“Yes.”

Then Livia found her opening. “Oh, you must come and play for Hyrum. He loves music.”

“Really?” Ancus asked skeptically.

“Yes, he loves music,” Livia repeated.

He gave her a knowing look. “I suspect he also wouldn’t mind speaking to me.”

“Who wouldn’t, Ancus? You’re charming as they come,” Livia teased.

Ancus laughed. “How could I disappoint such flattery?”

He brushed an imaginary speck of dust from his sleeve with a certain degree of pride. Livia laughed.

“I will come to dinner and play my lyre,” he said, then added a condition. “If you tell me about your text exchange.”

Livia’s cheeks bloomed with heat. Then she sighed, resigned. “Corvin asked how I was doing. I told him you were flirting. I asked what I should do. He advised me to flirt back—” Livia couldn’t help the confusion in her tone.

Ancus threw back his head and laughed. “Lupus House men!”

“So, that’s strange, right?” Livia whispered. “Your boyfriend telling you to flirt with other men.”

Ancus only laughed louder, grasping his belly. “I certainly wouldn’t say such a thing if the roles were reversed. But Lupus House is more practical about these sorts of things.”

“He said the time passes faster if you’re nice to your partner,” Livia said, voice trembling with amusement now.

“You don’t have a jealous man, Livia. Rejoice.” Ancus grinned at her.

“That…or he trusts you,” Livia said.

Ancus looked surprised. Then his expression softened. Livia knew the compliment meant more to him than any previous ones. “Ah, Corvin. We grew up together, you know?”

“Are you close?” Livia asked.

“We were, but time and circumstances mean we aren’t as close as we once were—” he said regretfully.

“You miss him,” Livia said.

Ancus nodded. “You can’t replace a friend like Corvin.”

Livia smiled. “We’ll have to have him over to dinner at the same time. Maybe you can arrange to do friend things.”

Ancus smiled at her. “I like the way you think. Let’s plan on it. Let me know the date and time.”

“How shall I contact you?” Livia asked. “On Tabula?”

Ancus shook his head. “No. My personal cell. I don’t check Tabula personally. An assistant does it for the entire family.”

Livia raised a surprised eyebrow, but they exchanged cell numbers. When they put their phones away, it was time for the games to begin.

Livia looked over her shoulder and saw Corvin and Salina together, facing a table full of brass bells. Her heart dropped to her stomach to see Corvin with Salina. She was smiling up at him while he had picked up a bell, shook it, and listened with a look of contemplation. He placed it in front of him, then picked up another bell—

“Jealous?” Ancus asked.

Livia whirled and found him leaning in close. He was taller than Arik but not as tall as Corvin, so it was disconcerting to have his jaw at eye level. She took a step back and huffed. “Look, I know you can sense emotions and everything, but keep that to yourself. It’s not up for discussion.”

Ancus gave her a look of utter surprise.

Livia pressed her lips tight to keep herself from taking the words back as she was washed over with guilt for being so blunt and abrupt. She knew she came across as rude to Rattus House people. Corvin was a lot less prone to take offense when she was blunt. He found it refreshing, in fact.

Ancus looked slightly hurt but seemed to brush it off as they were told they had to walk across the balance beam. It was suggested that Livia walk in her high heels as part of the party challenge. Ancus had to walk while keeping a book on his head.

Livia wasn’t that great at balance in the first place and hadn’t walked in heels in years, so she wasn’t exactly enthusiastic about this game. Ancus was aware of this.

“Remember, Livia, I told you I wouldn’t let any harm come to you,” he assured her.

“I won’t be able to do it,” she said.

“Try,” he encouraged. “You’ll do better than you think.”

Livia huffed. She’d lived with herself for nineteen years now. She knew what she could and couldn’t do physically. However, she didn’t see a way out of the game without people complaining that she hated Caesarean traditions and didn’t belong there.

Corvin had sorted most of his bells in a single line. She wished he’d look up, and she could have the support of his gaze for an instant, but he never looked up.

“Livia,” Ancus touched her shoulder gently.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“I…” he sighed. “Take a deep breath. That helps with anxiety.”

Livia glared at him. But she didn’t hold his perception against him. She gathered her courage and obeyed him. She took deep breaths until her mind and heart calmed. She pressed her palms flat on the balance beam and heaved herself up onto it easily.

Ancus helped her stand, grasping her hand, and Livia thought things might not be so bad. She could sense the space around her better than she thought. She stood tall and steady. She gave Ancus a confident look.

Then he released her hand.

It was like being plunged into sudden darkness. Whatever sense that had made the air around her feel clear and understandable moments before suddenly muddied. Livia blinked in complete confusion. She looked down at her feet. Is this anxiety?

She took deep breaths, but the sensation of her chest rising and falling only made Livia feel more disconnected from her feet. She tried to concentrate on her feet, but she couldn’t even sense where her toes were in relation to her heels.

Livia flexed her ankle to tap her toe. But her heel wasn’t where she expected because it was three inches in the air due to standing in high heels. As a result, Livia felt she was falling backward, so she stepped back to regain her equilibrium and stepped directly off the balance beam.

She screamed as she fell into empty air. Then she hit something solid.

“No!” She flailed, horrified, as arms wrapped around her, holding her.

“Livia, Livia, Livia,” Ancus’ voice soothed. “It’s fine. I caught you.”

She kicked her foot out, trying to escape his arms, and her high heel flew into the air. She went still—terrified. Would the heel hit someone in the face? Poke an eye out? Murder someone? The shoe flew up and up towards the ceiling, whispering against the elaborate stonework, and then fell straight down. Ancus took two steps to the side to avoid it. It bounced a few times on the mats and then remained still.

Livia grasped her other high heel and threw it to the pads beneath the balance beams.

Then she glared at Ancus, her urgent brown eyes meeting his confused ones. “Put me down.”

Ancus obeyed.

The cold mats touched the length of Livia’s foot, heel to toe. She was so relieved to feel connected to herself again. “I’m not doing that again,” she said firmly.

To her surprise, Ancus’ face lit with mischief. “Why don’t I wear the heels then?”

Livia looked at him in shock. “What?”

“It Saturnalia. We could make it a new tradition. Maybe if the men are inconvenienced, they’ll stop doing this stupid game.”

“You think it’s stupid?”

“Yeah, none of the other ones are this dangerous,” he said.

“Dangerous,” Livia repeated.

“Taurus got the balance beam act banned for a good dozen years.” Ancus frowned. “Then it came back last year. The year you were supposed to do it, but you didn’t show up.”

“You think it was done on purpose?”

“I mean, Taurus house women specifically objected because of how unreliable their balance is due to their sensory processing disorders.”

Livia smiled bitterly. “Sometimes I wonder if the cold welcome is all in my imagination, but this is pretty clear—”

“Definitely,” Ancus said. “Ice cold.”

“Who was in charge of the games this year?” Livia asked.

“Oh, it’s an inter-House thing. Last year the plebs from Aquila House were in charge, and this year it was the plebs from Lupus.”

“So not the Patricians?”

“No, we only do the opening ceremony and then submit ourselves to their embarrassing little games,” Ancus gestured to the balance beams. “Most years, it’s all fun, but occasionally something like this happens.”

Livia sighed.

Ancus slipped into her heels. “Pray for me?” he joked.

Then he lifted himself to the balance beam. Ancus’ arms spun wildly as he stood up. Livia gasped and rushed to help him, but he managed to right himself. He gave her a smile and a wink and then took another two steps. He had to stop every two steps to rebalance himself, but he made it to the end of the beam.

“Help?” he said. “How do I get down without breaking an ankle?”

Livia rushed over and offered her shoulders. Ancus laughed. “Liv, I’ve got 5 inches and fifty pounds on you.”

“I’m Taurus,” she said stubbornly.

“Look, just…help me sit down…then we’ll take off the heels, and I can jump off.” He lifted an eyebrow to get her agreement.

Livia nodded.

She supported Ancus until he was able to sit on the beam. He swore as he took off the heels. “Those things hurt!”

Livia started laughing. “I could offer piggyback rides for the rest of the evening as thanks for your noble deed.”

Ancus snorted. “Right. Then I’d look extremely noble.”

Livia snickered again. “Take the pain, Ancus.”

“Easy for you to say,” he muttered. “Miss Taurus.”

Livia’s smile fell as genuine concern sobered her mirth. “Do you need some ice?”

Ancus’ lips quirked up again, flirtatious. “Also like a Taurus to be fixated on ice—”

Livia found that joke more confusing, so she responded with an uncertain smile.

Ancus took in her expression. “Sorry, that one was probably over the line. Corvin would scold me.”

Ancus’ eyes lifted. “Right. On. Time.”