Chapter Four

Eurydice is content to spend the rest of her late afternoon playing with her dolls. Not to die of boredom, I joined in with the play. Ironically, I had the role of the "baby's'" nursemaid. At the same time, she is the mother and mistress of her make-believe domain.

"I will someday make a grand match and have lots of babies," Eurydice says with excitement. "My house will be full of screaming and laughing children. Not so quiet and lonely as it is now," she adds.

"What happened to your mother, little mistress?" I have surmised this house is a living tomb of Brixtius's wife. I am curious about her tragic end.

"She died having me," the little girl says sadly.

"I'm sorry, little mistress," is all I can say.

"Papa says it was a noble death. Much like the Spartan women of old."

"Spartan women who died in childbirth were worthy of a small monument in their honor," I tell her.

"I know," the little girl sighs. Like my knowledge of such trivial things bored her. "Papa misses her. That is why he has that woman here. To stop him from marrying another and keep his loneliness away." The little girl has a lot more insight into her family's situation than I think, even her father, gives her credit for.

"You're a very bright girl, little mistress," I praise. The little girl turned her little cherub face to me and is about to bless me with a smile. It is at this time the monster bitch Vesuvius starts to shake the earth.

This tremor is a little harder than the others. The earthquakes are only going to be worse before the volcano finally belches her dragon breath onto Pompeii.

"I hate Neptune's gifts," Eurydice says when the trembling stops.

"Me too," I tell her truthfully.

"It feels as though he is angry at us," Eurydice complains. I want to use her gripes as an advantage. Possibly she can turn her father's opinion of these "gifts" into what they indeed are. Signs of a significant catastrophe looming not too far in the distant future.

"Little mistress," I say hurriedly. "This is not Neptune, but Vulcan's work," trying to remember my Roman mythology. Vulcan, the god of the forge, his Greek counterpart Hephaestus. Vulcanism derived from the god's name, hence the word "volcano." Mixing mythology with some sound B.S., I continue. "Vulcan will cause the mountain to erupt, and in effect, destroy Pompeii."

"How do you know this?" She asks with her green-blue eyes rounded in fear. I hate lying to a child, but what harm can a white-lie cause?

"I had a dream of this destruction," knowing full well the Romans usually interpret their dreams as a sign from the gods. Some Romans would not be murdered if they listened to their wives' dream. Julius Caesar anyone?

"Really?" Little Eurydice shock and amazement at my prophetic powers apparent.

"Yes, little mistress. Why would I lie something about this?" I ask innocently.

"We should tell my father at once!" The little girl declares while jumping up to her feet.

"I tried, little mistress," I say hastily. I do not want the little girl to be punished on my account. No matter how much I want to protect her and her doppelgänger father. Lady Corina? Not so much.

"And?" The little girl says with bated breath.

"He, unfortunately, doesn't believe me," I answer.

"Oh," the little girl says, and grumpily sits back down.

"Perhaps you and I can convince him?" I ask her conspiratorially. The little girl turns and studies me. Just as before, I can see the gears of her mind turning before making up her mind. Such a precocious child!

"It will be difficult. We can convince Papa to leave here. Hopefully, go to Neapolis? That is where my mother came from," Eurydice adds. I'm guessing Neapolis is the modern city of Naples and was spared from Vesuvius's wrath. I eagerly agree, wanting this family to escape the inevitable downfall of Pompeii.

"Time for supper!" Eurydice exclaims. I turn around to witness a house servant lighting the only sconce in the room. I didn't realize the evening has set.

I would love to report that dinner was a dull affair. However, during the time between supper and dinner, Corina discovered a brain in the lump three feet above her ass. Nothing sucks more than a vindictive bitch out to get their revenge for making them look like a fool. How did she blindside me!

We entered the dining room; I am forced to sit next to Corina. Eurydice sat next to her father, and the place next to her was not set. I glimpse at the empty spot next to Corina, and I should have listened to the warning bells going off in my head. Those bells turned into sirens when Corina smiled at me sweetly and said, "Come join me. I want to make amends for my earlier behavior."

But to err is human. I just want to keep the peace until I can escape Pompeii. Before it becomes rubble. One death was enough for me, thank you!

An elderly house servant was carrying a tray into the room. The first course was a hot, steaming soup of mixed fishes and vegetables. The aroma is making my stomach rumble, and I can't wait to start eating. I was the last to be served, and a miracle happened. My bowl ended up in my lap, scalding me.

"Oh, my gods!" Corina exclaims. "Are you all right? These slaves are dreadfully old and clumsy!" Now, I don't know how Corina was able to make the servant drop the hot soup in my lap. I did catch the bitch smirking while I am attempting to get the hot mess off my lap.

"I'm fine. Thank you," I say through gritted teeth.

Good thing, Brixtius's house is rich enough to import ice that was already set out on the table. I had the foresight to grab a handful of ice out of the cup and place it immediately on my first-degree burns, forming on my lap. That was only the beginning of my torment from Corina.

The next course came out. A different servant was carrying a tray of little salad dishes, and my salad was literally tossed onto my head. The room was silent except for the apologies bumbling out the servant's mouth.

"It is okay," I say kindly to the old woman. I knew it isn't her fault. However, I think I had enough food dumped on me for one day.

"My lord?" I question to Brixtius, who also caught onto his mistress's vengeful antics because of the glare he's giving her. Brixtius turns his attention to me, "May I leave to clean myself?" I ask.

"Go," he commands. I can see he's pissed about the situation and turns his angry gaze back to Corina. Who is sitting demurely, acting the innocent? Not waiting to behold the fallout, I scramble out of the dining room, fleeing back to the nursery.

Once back in the room, I ignite a taper from the room's only wall sconce. I make my way to my dark cell, lighting the little oil lamp on the nightstand next to my sleeping pallet. The small oil lamp sheds enough light for me to open my newly acquired trunk and grab another woolen tunic. I change and performing a cursory exam of the fading burn marks on my thighs, relieved that the soup is not any hotter because this is a time where I could die from a splinter.

"Jessa?" Eurydice asks.

"Yes, little mistress?" I answer, pulling back the heavy curtain, letting the little girl peer into my tiny cell.

"Papa wants you in his study. Now." The little girl smiles at me. She enjoys issuing commands directly from her father.

"I'm sorry, little mistress. Can you show me to your father's study?"

"Fine," is all she says as she walks out of her room. I quickly follow down the lit corridor, making a turn down another lighted corridor until Eurydice stops in front of a closed wooden door. Taking a deep breath, I knock, my knocking a signal for the little girl to retreat to her room.

"Come!" is barked from the other side of the dense door. Pulling the latch, the door swings open, and I walk into a dimly lit room. Angst fills me, not knowing what I am walking into.