From afar, the imposing gates of the estate swung open, revealing the sprawling grounds and its beautifully manicured gardens. The garden was my mother's favourite place to go, and she spent a great deal of time tending to them. My father's teasing words still echo in my mind: 'Your mother would trade me and all of you for a patch of roses and a bed of lavender any day!' He'd say it with a grin, but there was a hint of truth to it. Our mother did have a special place in her heart for our garden, where she'd spend hours tending to her beloved flowers, finding solace and peace in their beauty.
We finally arrived at the entrance of the main house, I got down while the carriage man went to store the carriage behind the main house. Inside the house, the halls were empty except for some maids who scurried about. "Milord, we weren't informed that you were coming." Theresa said. A group of servants, whose faces I couldn't decipher, greeted me, bowing their heads. "Where are my Parents, Theresa?" I asked. "M'lady is in the upper chamber, sir and Milord has gone horse riding."
"Alright," I nodded. "You can go about your business." "Milord," she said, ignoring my order as she walked slowly toward me, her simple woolen tunic swaying with each step. She adjusted her plain linen stola, letting it fall open slightly as she approached. Though her clothing was humble, the way she carried herself—head raised and eyes meeting mine—made her intentions clear despite her modest servant's garments.
"Theresa, what are you doing?" I asked, irritation showing in my voice. "Don't you miss me? because I have missed you dearly," she said, pulling me closer to herself. Her breasts were now half showing as she clung to me. "Theresa," I said, while pushing her away from myself. "I don't have time for all of this. Go find yourself that stable boy who valued you over himself.
"What are you insinuating? That you don't want my presence again? Have those Greek harlots tampered with your brain?" she said, stomping her feet. "You don't get to ever speak to me like that in this house, Theresa. I'm your lord, and if you still want your job, you should learn to keep your blabbing mouth shut before I sell you myself to the brothel. We might not even know; it might be the best job for you, seeing as you are eager to please me." I warned. Her eyes widened at my words, but she quickly collected herself.
"Milord," she bowed as she strutted off, her clothes not properly arranged.
When I entered the room where my mother was, I found her on her knees, praying to a statue of the Lares. While I may not know the names of the various gods we Romans have, I'm familiar with that of the Lares. Every corner of the house was filled with their figurines, my mother made sure of that. A smile crept to my face as I remembered how my mother would force my sister and me to worship in this same room. The Lares, believed to protect the home, family and properties are clearly my mother's favourite gods, it's that evident.
"Ahem, Ahem," I cleared my throat to grab her attention. "Agnes, I'm not to be disturbed," she said, not diverting her attention from her prayers.
"Mother," I called. "Antonius, is that you?" she said as she stood up. "Oh, Antonius, my child, my child… come here."
I didn't have to walk to meet her, as she was already clinging me tight to her side, inspecting every inch of me with her eagle eyes. "You look so taut and malnourished. Are you sure you are being fed well in that Greece of yours?" "Mother, I'm fine," I said, removing myself from her grasp. "I'm feeding well," but she still was not satisfied, scrutinizing me further.
" Hmmm," she scrunched her nose. "Don't tell me you went to that god forsaken brothel," she said with disdain in her voice. "How many times have I told you not to visit that place again?" she said, looking up at me. "Mother," I said, "don't worry about me. I will be fine."
"Okay," she said, but I could see in her eyes that she wasn't satisfied. Let me call Agnes to prepare the table for you. Your father is supposed to be back by now," she said, pacing back and forth. "Mother, what's it that's bothering you?" I asked, concern lacing my voice.
"I'm fine, really. Just go and freshen up. You smell like you spent a night in the horse's stable," she said with a forced smile. When she saw that I wouldn't budge, she started pushing me towards the door. "Mother," I said, my face hardening, "something is eating you up, and I want you to tell me what it is before I leave this room."
"I said I'm fine," she insisted, with that fake smile creeping slowly onto her face again. When she looked up and saw I wasn't leaving anytime soon, she eventually let down her guard. "It's about you and your father. I don't like the tension that comes when you two are in the same space."
"Mother, is this what all this is all about?" I asked. Antonius, yes, this is what all this is all about. You know your father wants the best for you; his plans for you are for your own betterment. You are his heir, his only son, you should listen."
"Mother," I cut her off, "you should talk to Father too. I'm old enough to make my own decisions and live my life the way I want to." I replied irritatedly, and I really wished I hadn't asked what the issue was.
"He is getting old, Antonius. Your father is getting old. Try to make peace with him, please." She pleaded. "I will try, Mother," I replied, knowing that's the only way she would drop the topic.
"Oh," she exclaimed as she moved closer, tenderly holding my face with her hands. "You are just like your father," she said, smiling sadly. "You both are so stubborn and hot headed."
"Mother," I responded as I bent down to hug her, enveloped in her scent of jasmine and rose, which was her signature smell. I remembered how I used to steal her scented oils and rub them on my body, which my sister always teased me about. She would always say I smell like a girl. Speaking of Emily, I hadn't set eyes on her since I arrived in Rome. I wanted to ask Mother, but I was tempted by the thought of indulging in a nice and long bath.
"Agnes should be here by now. I have rung that bell five times now," she said, pointing to the bell used to summon servants. "I will be on my way then," I replied, reluctant to leave her presence. She always had that effect on people, even strangers were not spared from her calming personality.
Immediately I stepped out of the room, I came face to face with no other person than Lady Agnes, our steward. "Good day, Lady Agnes," I greeted, eager to leave her presence. "Oh, look who we have here, Milord. Nobody knew to expect your arrival," she said, not smiling. I shouldn't be surprised, while growing up, I had only seen her smile at me twice. She only laughed when she was with Mother, even Father was not exempted.
"I did not have time to announce my coming, Lady Agnes," I replied. "Hmph," she said. I can see you have been drinking again. Don't tell me you visited that brothel again?" "No," I started to say, but she cut me off before I could complete my sentence, "I would rather you go and clean up first because you smell like a pig's behind, and then come down to the dining chamber. You look like you could use a good meal," she said.
"Y-es, Lady Agnes," I stammered as I walked out of her presence. Walking down, I think I heard the beastly laugh of my younger sister….