⚜✿⚜
"Fulvia! Hurry up already!" came the shout yet again.
The silence of one of the Palatine's elegant family villas was broken more and more impatiently, more frequently—and of course ever louder—by the calling on this May afternoon.
But Fulvia was in no hurry at all. In her bedroom, Kyra, the ancilla ornatrix, was still carefully and precisely arranging her hair into an elegant style.
A woman of the gens Aemilia could not appear at the Forum with disheveled hair.
Of course, Kyra was now trying to work faster, though the task required both aesthetic sensitivity and steady hands. She did not fear being scolded for the delay; she simply knew how important this day was to Lucius Aemilius Catullus, and she sincerely respected the master of the house.
"Fulvia!" her sister Aemilia snapped now from very close by.
She immediately dropped her hands from her hips when she saw that her younger sister was finally—at long last—rising from the chair. As though she herself had not caused the commotion, she took Fulvia's arm with a pleasant smile, without offering any excuse.
"We can go."
Aemilia did not mention that Fulvia had slept through the entire morning. Nor that she had gone to the Temple of Minerva afterward and returned so late that their parents—Livius Aemilius Catullus and Tullia—had already set out for the Forum.
Aemilia, of course, had waited for her sister.
It would have been more pleasant to walk to the Forum, but the lectica was already waiting. Today, Livius Aemilius Catullus wanted to make a good impression—not on a consul or a senator, but on the orator who was to speak.
"He has a strange name, that patrician," Fulvia remarked casually.
She had no interest in the speech. She was merely fulfilling her duty—accompanying her family to the Forum. The appearance of this orator had disrupted half her afternoon.
"That's because he isn't a patrician," Aemilia replied patiently. "He's the grandson of a freedman."
"Malricus Velan," Fulvia repeated the name aloud, tasting it.
"The grandson of that Velan."
No further explanation was needed. A slave named Velan had saved Livius Aemilius Catullus's father—the girls' grandfather—during a battle. He had become the family's hero. Their grandfather freed him immediately upon returning from the battlefield and, in gratitude for his bravery, even gifted him a villa rustica.
"Ah."
That explanation was more than enough for Fulvia. She would listen to the speech, then continue her day undisturbed. A new merchant ship had arrived in Ostia two days ago. By now, fine fabrics and fragrant ointments might have reached the Roman stalls. She had planned to see them that afternoon.
"Father is going to invite him to our house," Aemilia added.
Fulvia grimaced. This orator's arrival had completely ruined her afternoon.
"While he remains in Rome, he'll be staying with us," Aemilia clarified.
Fulvia could no longer suppress a disappointed sigh.
Just what I needed, she thought.
Days would be consumed by this orator—ceremonial dinners, showing him Rome. Fulvia knew exactly what hosting a guest from afar entailed.
"They didn't even wait for us," she said reproachfully.
"Because Father didn't want to miss meeting him."
Aemilia was growing tired of Fulvia's complaints. If only her sister had returned home in time for dinner yesterday, she would know everything already. Instead, she had spent the night at her friend Claudia's, listening to Decimus recite his verses to the accompaniment of a harp. Decimus's poetry was not always suitable for the ears of young patrician women.
Livius Aemilius Catullus had learned only yesterday afternoon that a Velan would speak today—and the grandson of that Velan at that. He immediately decided to attend the speech and afterward invite Malricus to the family home.
Fulvia had learned only today, upon returning from the Temple of Minerva, that she was expected at the Forum.
♡
There was no large crowd at the Forum yet at that hour. Passersby stopped for a moment, listened briefly to the speeches, then continued on their way.
Only the young men turned their heads toward the lectica. Not because such a sight was unusual—but because they wanted to take a good look at the attractive daughters of the gens Aemilia.
Fulvia did not glance at them even once. Sometimes she disliked attracting attention, and today was exactly that kind of day. She searched for her parents and spotted them immediately, standing near the rostra.
"You could look a little more enthusiastic," Livius smiled at his daughters.
Fulvia knew it was a mild warning—and that it was directed at her, not Aemilia.
"I'll behave," she promised.
Their mother, Tullia, had just grown tired of the empty speech delivered by Aulus of the Sabine clan.
"I hope Malricus has something more interesting to say," she whispered, just loud enough for the family to hear.
Fulvia and Aemilia stifled quiet laughter. Even Livius smiled.
"Behave as befits patricians," he admonished them.
This warning was no longer meant for Fulvia alone.
Fortunately, Aulus had nothing more to say.
"A dreadful orator," Tullia judged.
The crowd did not murmur or buzz as it usually did after a great speech. There was nothing to discuss once Aulus finished.
An unfamiliar young man stepped out from the crowd and moved decisively toward the rostra, looking neither left nor right.
"The orator from afar," several people whispered—just loudly enough for Malricus to hear.
The young man was almost at the platform when a distant, angry voice expressed its opinion rather un-oratorically.
"Ut fellate!"
Perhaps someone had caught a thief.
(Oh, Rome!)
The young man could not suppress a sly half-smile. Once he stood atop the platform, he finally scanned the crowd. His gaze lingered longer on the two patrician girls than on anyone else.
He held eye contact with the crowd just long enough for silence to fall. The murmur faded.
Then Malricus began to speak of the old gods. A dull subject—yet the crowd seemed to merge into a single shared thought, a single quiet, attentive being.
Fulvia felt as though the young man were speaking only to her.
"Down with the old gods!" someone suddenly shouted.
Fulvia hadn't even noticed that the square had filled during the speech. Anyone who stopped to listen had forgotten their own business and remained to hear Malricus.
Everyone glared angrily toward the source of the voice.
"Oh, it's just old, mad Maximus," Aemilia dismissed him.
A grim-looking man began to push threateningly toward Maximus. The "mad old man," as Aemilia had just called him, cast a contemptuous glance at the crowd—and at Malricus as well—then walked away from the Forum before the man could reach him.
Fulvia turned back toward the rostra—then quickly looked away again.
The orator was staring at her. Persistently. Openly. Fixating on her.
♡
Malricus Velan had arrived in Rome the previous evening and gone straight to Marcus, an old friend. He had not visited Corina, as he had planned—though Corina had always given him everything he desired.
"Well now… what a charming little flower," he thought as he examined Fulvia with interest.
It would be far more entertaining to seduce this girl before moving on from this city as well—just as he always did.
The disturber had gone. The crowd waited. He had to continue speaking.
But he cast one more glance in her direction.
♡
Fulvia felt strange, as though a leaden weight had settled over her mind. Very little of the speech reached her anymore.
♡
Then the crowd began to murmur and hum—not with anger, but with satisfaction.
The speech was over. A new orator stepped onto the rostra. The crowd fell silent.
(Oh, Rome—and its momentary glory!)
Livius had to push his way through a bit to reach Malricus. Those he shoved aside hissed and clicked their tongues. At last, he reached the young man.
Malricus was accustomed to being stopped after his speeches. He looked bored at the man forcing his way toward him—then recognized him. He had seen him near the girl he wanted.
"Welcome to Rome," Livius began formally.
"Not quite the gods—but let's leave that," Malricus thought.
Now that he recognized the man as belonging to the girl's circle, his expression grew warmer.
Livius did not hesitate.
"Your grandfather is the hero of our family. If you accept, you will be our guest for the entire duration of your stay."
"I don't understand," the young man frowned.
"I haven't introduced myself. I am Livius of the gens Aemilia. Your grandfather saved my father."
My grandfather had one good deed—and it still haunts us, Malricus thought irritably.
Outwardly, his expression remained open and pleasant.
"Come, I'll introduce you to my wife and daughters," Livius urged.
He assumed Malricus was merely being polite in not accepting immediately.
I can't believe my luck, the orator thought—not because of the lodging, but because it would make approaching the girl so much easier.
Feigning gratitude, he bowed slightly.
"Thank you—"
But Livius did not wait.
"There's no need to thank me. Our litters are waiting nearby."
Malricus Velan, the orator, did not protest further.