Today seems to be full of promises. As I opened my eyes, the dawn's gentle light whispered sweet nothings to my chamber. I stretched, feeling the softness of my bed beneath me, and rose to meet the day. The first thing that came to my mind was to indulge in a warm bath.
As I sank into the scented waters, I felt the weariness of yesterday wear away like ice in the sun. My servants, attentive as always, had prepared the bath to my exacting specifications: the temperature, the fragrance, and the gentle lapping of water against my skin.
"My lord, may we proceed?" asked the bath attendants assigned to me today. I answered them with a nod.
I could feel the tension in my muscles easing away, and a sudden calmness settled over my mind as they washed my hair with the finest oils and scrubbed my skin with soft sponges, careful not to scratch my noble flesh. I closed my eyes and let out a contented sigh; the water proved to be a soothing balm, melting away the stress of ruling the family's businesses. My bath was a sanctuary, a place where I could let my guard down and simply be myself.
When I finally emerged from the bath, I felt refreshed and rejuvenated. My heart lingered on my home country across the seas, where I was traveling today after receiving words from my father about our rival, a foreign man who set foot in Rome when I was still a boy. Nobody knew where he came from or his real name, other than that he was a wealthy man with a sharp mind, which was the only thing I admired about him. This quality made him rise to the top quickly, making him one of the best in the sand business and our biggest rival.
I haven't really spoken to him, but our two encounters showed me that he was a cunning man, an expert in twisting words and manipulating people into giving him what he wanted. This infamous side of him earned him the nickname "Serpent". People tended to flock around him, shallow-minded individuals who were only after his money and favors, as rumors had it. He had a close connection to the emperor.
"Milord, your carriage is ready," said my footman, jolting me out of my reverie."Hmm, who told you to enter?"
"I am sorry, sir. I knocked several times, but there was no response, so I just entered the room," he said, casting his eyes down. Casting one's eyes down when talking to one's master was a form of respect in Rome, but I knew my servants cast their eyes down because they were afraid, as was the case with the servant standing before me.
I didn't know when he knocked or entered; neither did I catch his eyes scanning my room like a hawk for any luggage. "Milord," the servant called with a gentle clearing of his throat, "was there any luggage you wanted to take along?"
"Yes?" I asked, clearly irritated with the fact that I had been in and out of thoughts lately, and his presence wasn't helping the situation.
I was asking if there's any luggage you want to take along, he said, raising his head but unable to decide where to place his gaze, darting his eyes everywhere in the room while deliberately skipping my face.
No, I said , which was completely true as I had planned, that I would not be there for a long time coupled with the fact that I have clothes that I have only worn once and some I haven't put on yet.
"You can go," I said. "I will be with you shortly."
"Yes, Sir," he mumbled under his breath, scuffling out and forgetting to lock the door in his hasty attempt to leave my presence. This behavior wasn't strange to me at all; since I was a kid, everyone has tended to shiver when they are in my presence.
I have always hoped it's because of my noble birth, which is partially true, but I know it's really because I have a stature not different from that of a giant, with a face card that has earned me quite a reputation among the ladies. I have heard people whispering and comparing my beauty to that of Adonis. It's not a surprise that married women, as well as those still single, are drawn to me, and their unholy advances towards me are always seen. This was fueled by my mother's desire to see me married. Half of the Rome's population knows that the Borgia heir is unmarried while still in his late twenties and that the eagerness of his mother to see him married pushed him further into the snare of the seductive women.
With a quick glance around my room, I was satisfied with the state of orderliness that a servant religiously maintained. I walked out to meet all my servants lined up outside to bid me a good farewell and a successful journey.
"Milord, I have prepared some food, and wine has been stored in the amphorae," said the steward.
"Thanks," I acknowledged with a nod. "If anyone comes looking for me, tell them I made a quick trip and will be back in a month's time."
"Yes, milord," she replied without casting her eyes down, daring me to say something about her disrespect, which I carefully overlooked.
As I prepared to leave Rome, my mother words echoed in my mind: 'A steward is the backbone of a household, and your treatment of them determines their devotion to your estate.' I nodded to myself, acknowledging the truth.
'That will be all,' I said, turning to enter the carriage.
Just then, my steward called out in a brisk, firm voice, 'May the gods journey with you, Milord!' Her words brought a smile to my face, reminding
me of our stalwart steward back home - a woman to be reckoned with, nobody can stand up to her not even my father. The mere thought sent shivers down my spine.
'Ready, Milord?' the coachman asked.
'I am,' I replied.
With that, the coachman grasped the reins, and the carriage lurched forward, beginning its winding journey to Rome.