Chapter Two

This is a sick, demented, joke!

My anger and frustration at the fucked up situation reach a new time high! First, I went to Troy, and we all know what happened! Now, I am stuck in fucking Pompeii! Probably right before the gluttonous bitch, Vesuvius blows her top and destroys the whole city! What the hell did I do to the fairies deemed this as a just punishment? All I said was, "I don't believe in fairies!" I come from the 21st Century, where magic doesn't exist! Only technology. I think dying in the arms of the man I loved was punishment enough! But NOOOOOO!

I'm tossed like a salad into another tragic time in human history and to top it ALL off! I'm looking at the twin of my Trojan Prince, who is maybe long dead. The thought of Braxius being dead hurts my heart, and I can no longer keep my emotions in check.

The unwanted tears are starting to stream down my face as I stare down at the cobblestones. I watch the movement of my legs as I try to keep putting one foot in front of the other. I'm so lost in my spinning thoughts I didn't see Brixtius stop until I bump into him.

"I'm sorry, my lord," I mumbled, keeping my head down, so he can't discover my tears. I've always hated crying, thinking it was a sign of weakness. Right now, I can't help it.

A firm finger is under my chin, forcing my head up. "Look at me, girl," the soft but commanding voice of Brixtius. Unable to hide my sorrow from my lover's doppelgänger, I lift my eyes. I am staring into those blue-green eyes that will forever haunt me.

Pity softens his eyes, and he gently rubs away my tears with his thumb. "No need to fear me, girl," his voice soft. He assumes I'm crying in fear of him!

I can only nod my head in understanding, too stunned by Brixtius's tenderness, and at the same time, confused. It is going to be hard to separate my Trojan Prince husband from this Roman Senator.

"Come," Brixtius commands as he pushes open a door. I was too lost in my thoughts and emotions to notice where Brixtius lead us. Glancing up, I take in the massive brick building in front of me. The color of the brick turned gray over the years, and the building is a typical upper-class Roman dwelling. However, nothing distinguishes this building from the buildings next to it. I glance around the street, and I study the sizable doorway to help me remember my location and bearings.

I follow Brixtius through the doorway, into a dim room opening into a foyer. I stop to look down, finding an ornate mosaic in colorful tiles, depicting a handsome man with a lyre, leading a beautiful young woman from a gloomy place. Remember my Greek Mythology class, I exhale, "Orpheus," in wonderment.

"Excellent, wench," seeing that Brixtius is studying me intently.

"Do you recall the woman he was trying to save from the clutches of the Underworld?" Brixtius asks me. I feel like I am back in a class all over again. Good thing, I loved learning about Classical Myths.

"Eurydice," I respond.

Brixtius does not respond. A sadness comes over his handsome features.

"Papa! Papa!" a small voice is calling through the house. Looking around, with my eyes adjusting to the dimness, I can see beautiful frescoes on the walls. All with scenes of stories about the Underworld: the one thing that grabs my attention is the man and woman depicted in the mosaic are the same man and woman in the paintings. Then it hits me that the man is Brixtius. What?

"Papa!" The little voice shouts again, much closer this time. A small cherub girl, about five or six, runs into the room. She has brown hair and a little chubby face I would love to kiss and pinch.

"Eurydice," Brixtius picks up the little girl. In Ancient Rome, the daughter was named after the father, but very rarely named after the mother. "I came back with a nursemaid. Her name is Jessa," holding the little girl in his arms. Little Eurydice examines me quickly and shyly hides her head in her father's shoulder.

"I don't need a nursemaid, Papa!" She cries out petulantly. Brixtius implores me for help. With plenty of practice babysitting the neighborhood kids, I walk over to the man holding his child, who refuses to acknowledge me.

"Hi, Eurydice," my tone soft. "Can you help me? There's a little girl who would love to show me her toys and games. But she's hiding right now! Do you think she would like to come out and play with me?" My little speech works like magic, and Eurydice stops hiding her face in her father's chest and looks at me with large blue-green eyes. Definitely a daddy's girl.

I smile brightly at the little girl, and she smiles back. Brixtius puts her down, and I kneel. "Eurydice, may I talk to your father for a moment, please?" The little girl nods her little head and scampers out of the room.

Facing Brixtius, I am feeling baffled. "Master, is it normal to buy a girl from a whorehouse and let them become a nanny to their children?" I ask politely.

"We both know you're not a whore," Brixtius replies.

"How do you know what I am?"

"I have been all over the provinces. I have seen all manner of people, and I have excellent instincts about individuals," Brixtius pauses to consider his next words before speaking. "When I saw you, I knew you were out of place at Madame Corydon's. Her whores usually have no life left in their eyes, their spirits broken. You still have so much spirit, which means that you were newly acquired. And I don't want to see your fire extinguished. You seem familiar to me. Something that reminds me of my late wife," he finishes.

"I'm sorry about your wife," my voice solemn. The imagery of Orpheus and Eurydice, suddenly making sense. My heart fills with sorrow at his loss. He must have loved her very much.

"I named our daughter after her. Little Eurydice has her mother's spirit. An old fashion nursemaid will try to break her. A Roman Senator's daughter must be subservient to her father's will, then when she's older, to her husband's wishes. I won't let that happen. She will make a love match. Just like I did. Therefore, I need a nursemaid that will nurture her properly and will allow her to grow. And to be strong." Brixtius turns and starts walking down the corridor; little Eurydice ran down.

I follow him down the dim hallway. I immediately glimpse at the paintings on the wall. Mostly the scenes are of the gods, playing havoc on Olympus. There are some paintings of everyday life. Men and women are working the fields, eating the bounty of the land, and enjoying each other's company. What grabs me the most is the vivid colors and lifelike detail. It saddens me to know these pictures will soon be destroyed when Vesuvius blows her stack.

As if the thought disturbed the sleeping giant. The walls and floor start to shake. The tremor only lasts a few seconds, but it's enough to spur me into action.

"Master. You must take your daughter and leave Pompeii," I urge.

"Why?" Brixtius's expression perplexed, and then understanding. "Ah! You'll get used to Neptune's little gifts. The priests already confirmed the shaking is a sign of favor from Neptune. Our city will be even more prosperous in the upcoming months."

"I hate to burst your bubble," I say without thought. "But these are not gifts from Neptune. It's-"

"Hold your tongue!" Brixtius interrupts angrily. "We do not speak against the priests or blaspheme against the mighty god, Neptune. You DO not understand what you speak of, wench! Remember your place and why you are here!"

I back down, knowing I have to be cautious. I need to win Brixtius's trust so that I can flee this place. I hope there is enough time!

"This way," Brixtius gruffly commands. I think I've pushed him too far today.

He turns at an open doorway, leading into a small and dim courtyard with a little pool. It is filled with goldfish. The shade created by the surrounding walls keeps out the intense sunlight while maintaining a cool refreshing space. The smell of lavender and jasmine fill the air, making the area sweet-smelling. I only get a glance around since Brixtius keeps marching forward towards another open doorway.

We walk into the new area; I can tell this is a child's room. There are colorful paintings on the wall. One is depicting Bellerophon riding his Pegasus, and other morale tales painted to help build a child's imagination. A small wooden bed is in the corner with a little nightstand next to it. And chests are sitting next to the walls, each beautifully carved and painted.

I spy Eurydice sitting against one of the chests, playing with a wooden doll. She is so entranced with her game; she did not hear us enter.

"You will sleep here," Brixtius pulls back a heavy curtain that was hiding a small room. I inspect the room; it reminds me of my servant cell in Prince Braxius's household. The thought sends pain to my chest. What was moments ago for me, centuries may have passed. Not wanting to have a total meltdown in front of my new "master," I simply nod my head in understanding.

"You can change out of that outfit and into something more proper," Brixtius indicates to the chest next to the foot of the bed.

"Thank you," is all I can utter. I take in a deep breath, trying to fight my unbidden tears. I can cry my heart out, later.