Chapter Five

"You wanted to see me, my lord?" I stop at the threshold.

"Close the door," Brixtius commands from his desk. I obey and turn back to the man furiously scribbling on parchment. All I can do is patiently wait.

"Roman politics and the Emperor do not wait for replies," Brixtius comments when he stops writing. "Even if you are an inconsequential senator, overseeing a town as small as Pompeii. All the Empire cares about is the taxes were raised. And are on the way to Rome to keep the machine well oiled and running." I don't say anything but nod my understanding. It dawns on me that Brixtius is the highest-ranking man in the city. No wonder he's able to afford all these luxuries.

"Like the Empire, I want my house to run smoothly," Brixtius's point of my being summoned to his office is becoming clear. "My mistress does not have the sharpest mind. If crossed, she can strike like a snake. You will do well to remember this."

"Yes, my lord," I answer demurely.

"Do you know anything about numbers?" That was the last thing I expected to be asked.

"Yes, my lord?" Not too sure what he's asking me.

"My house steward recently died, and I need someone to perform the house accounts until I can buy another steward," Brixtius explains.

"Yes, my lord. I do have some accounting experience," not providing any further information. I'll let him assume my experience was from another house I worked in. My actual accounting experience was from college elective courses. But Brixtius doesn't need to know about that.

"Good. After you are finished playing nursemaid during the day, you will come here every night to balance the accounts," he indicates to an empty chair on the other side of his desk and a pile of scrolls lying on the side of his desk. There is also a ledger lying open in front of the empty chair.

"Sit," he commands when I do nothing. I hurry to the empty seat. To show that I'm not at a complete loss, I start looking over the open ledger. I am trying to remember my basic accounting classes while figuring out what is shown in the ledger.

I am familiar with accrual-based accounting hasn't been invented yet. That doesn't come around until the Renaissance. This means this accounting style should be cash-based. Easy, peasy. Riiiight. But flipping the ledger pages back to the last few days, I can easily see a pattern of positives and negatives.

One sestertius for three eggs and a pound of grain. One denarius for a sold bushel of grapes to the wine merchant - So on and so forth.

I follow the entries until today's page; I start going through the pile of scrolls on the desk. And it hits me. When the fuck did I start understanding Latin?

I inwardly shrug. If I overthink it, I'll go nuts. Besides, I find going with the flow, and ignoring the impossible is working best for me. I did understand Ancient Greek when I was stuck in Troy. Back to the grind.

After a few scrolls, I am starting to detect another pattern. Being on the lowest rung of the proverbial social ladder, I was extremely cautious when I blurted out this question. "My lord, what is the going rate for pleasure boys at Ludivicium's Palace?"

"Why do you ask?" Brixtius seethed. With the lamps in the office burning down during the hours we worked, Brixtius is scarier with the looming shadows.

"Well, my lord," I state quietly. "There are about five scrolls I have opened that are invoiced for an hour's pleasure with Adonis, costing five denarii. Now, looking back at the ledger," I point towards the ledger, "your steward had these transactions written down as 'chicken feed.' It sounds like a costly chicken feed. Where are the chickens, by the way?" I ask innocently.

"You are done for tonight," Brixtius commands.

"Yes, my lord," and I quickly leave the office. I'm glad we stopped when we did because my eyes are fatigued, and I'm too tired to deal with anything else tonight.

I somehow make it back to Eurydice's room. The only sconce almost snuffed out, and I can see the little girl is sleeping soundly on her small pallet.

I make it to my darkroom, walking straight until the edge of the wooden pallet hit me in the shins. I fall face forward, too tired to remove my sandals, and I am out.

"Jessa! Time to wake up!" Someone's shaking me.

"Five more minutes, Meena," I say my little sister's name without thought since I'm still technically asleep.

"Who's Meena?" a little girl's voice ask. Shit!

I snap my eyes open, memories flooding my head. It wasn't a dream! I'm stuck in Pompeii! My room is dimly lit by natural light because little Eurydice opened my room's curtain. Meaning it is morning.

Yawning and stretching, my limbs and back cracking from sleeping on a harsh surface, I stare at the refreshed child. To be young again! Plus, she didn't have to stay up to an ungodly hour figuring out the house finances. Which reminds me...

"Is it time to break our fast?" I ask Eurydice.

"Yes! Why I woke you up! Papa would be furious if we missed the first meal of the day!" And like a rabbit, she runs out of my little cell. I get up, and I am thankful I did not remove my sandals, I chase after her.

We both make it to the dining room at about the same time. Brixtius is sitting at the head of the table, waiting for his daughter's arrival. Except for this time, no Corina.

"Where's Lady Corina?" Asks Eurydice.

"Gone," he sniffs. There is an expression of disgust marring his otherwise handsome face. Like the thought of the bitch was dirt.

"Truly, Papa?" I'm glad that Lady Corina will not be missed by the little girl.

"Sit and eat, Eurydice." We take our seats and dig into the laid out bread and cheeses. I can't help to say the thought of Corina being gone is making my appetite return. I ate with gusto and relished that Brixtius is staring at me with amazement.

"Sorry. But I didn't eat much yesterday. With me wearing my dinner last night, remember?" My statement makes Brixtius turn back to his food. Maybe he does feel a little guilty about Corina's childish pranks towards me?

"You ready for today's lessons?" Brixtius asks Eurydice.

"Oh, yes, Papa!" She squeals with unabashed excitement. "Today, we will discuss the warriors who were inside the Trojan horse and the overall meaning behind the Trojan War." I stop breathing. Just hearing about the Trojan War being studied as a history lesson breaks something in me.

"Excuse me," is all I can say while I get to my feet and run out of the dining room. I was too tired last night to mourn my dead Trojan Prince husband. And it doesn't help that Brixtius looks like him. Working next to him last night helped me forget my lost love until now.

I make it back to the courtyard next to Eurydice's room. I sit down on one of the stone benches, the sound of trickling water calming the irregular beat of my heart. And then the flood of tears escape with a heart-wrenching sob. A little girl's history lesson for the day pierced the wall I was trying so valiantly hard to keep up.

"What's this?" I hear Brixtius ask from behind me. I slowly turn my sad face towards his. Knowing full well, I am a sobbing hot mess. This only makes me cry even harder when I glimpse the concerned expression of my dead husband. I finally felt like it's hit me. My soul died when I died on the plains of Troy.

I was prepared to never return to my time because I discovered an immortal love. But, just like being unfairly yanked out of my time, I was brutally pulled out of Braxius's arms. Fairies are so fucking cruel!

Brixtius must have heard the heartbreak in my mournful cries because I'm suddenly yanked up off the bench. And I am wrapped in strong arms. Arms start to softly rock me, letting me cry my heart out until there are no more tears for me to cry.

When I stop crying, I look up at Brixtius. His face is full of understanding—a knowing of sorrow for a loved one that can never be replaced.

"What was his name?" His voice is soft.

"Braxius," I respond immediately, forgetting I should make up my husband's name. But, it feels nice to say his name out loud.

"What happened?" How can I explain that one? But the half-truth came out of my mouth.

"He died in battle," I answer.

"And that's how you came to be at Madame Corydon's. Your people enslaved," Brixtius adds.

"Something like that," not wanting to add or detract from Brixtius's assumption. If I told him I am two-thousand years from the future, was sent to Ancient Troy, and killed and was killed by the famous Achilles? I can already smell the wood-burning for a witch.

I keep staring up at the same blue-green eyes my husband once had. Eyes full of understanding and sorrow. And before I know what happened, his lips are on mine.

Soft at first, to get me used to them. Nothing was demanding about Brixtius's kiss. But the same smells and feelings I had for Braxius overwhelm my senses, and the innocent kiss turns into a hot clashing of tongues. And a want I have not felt since my late husband's touch pools to my pussy. And that shocks me out of my lust-filled hold on Brixtius.

I push the big, strong man away from me. It kills me to do so, but I have to keep remembering that this is not Braxius. No matter how much I yearn for it to be so.

We both stare at each other, panting. I am like a bitch. In heat! The spell of our lust dissipating when Brixtius fixes his toga and clearing his throat.

"We still need to finish the house accounts from yesterday," he coldly informs me. "Eurydice will be in her studies for a few hours. Come," he commands as he turns and walks out of the courtyard.

Taking a second, I compose myself. And then I follow Brixtius. God help me!