Expectations for the day were that Vince would approach General Numitus’s Daughter and ask her to prepare for a betrothal to unite the Vesta family and War’s household. However that day, Vince could not bring himself to look her in the eyes. He had not yet seen her but he knew what he knew.

  Tiber told me to speak with her. That I should honor her, Vincent thought. He had retreated westward and sat on the bank of the river for which his elder was named. In times that required tough decisions, Tiber had always told Vince to never back down. Today, he could not hold to that philosophy.

  How can I honor her when I do not honor my own father? My own brother? Bentio is dead and cast into the fire, never to return. My father has turned away his face from mourning to do his duty. I cannot even bring myself to do that. I disgrace them both no matter what I do. I struggle with duty, I spit in the face of Tiber. If I turn from my grief, I abandon a brother I thought of dearly.

  What is honor to a dead man? It has not been a day since his body burned. I will celebrate no engagement until I have given the dead their respect.

  Vince stood from the bank and went to the river. He dipped his hands in and felt the cold water rush over them. It made him feel awake and drove off the sluggishness. Vince in his time with the Vesta family had become known for his passion and irreverence for decorum. He was Tiber’s responsibility almost as much as he was his son. But today, Vice would finally take ownership of his duty and not leave anything for his father to deal with.

  He took his hands out of the river and returned to the city proper, heading for the forum where the General would stand atop his balcony and proclaim another year of good harvest and glory. Vince knew she would be waiting in the same alleyway they always found one another. It has been almost a year since he began seeing Aemilia, and each time he laid eyes on her, it was first in this alley.

  Aemilia was a pretty girl, two years his junior with big brown eyes and fair hair. Freckles sprinkled over her well shaped nose and otherwise clear complexion. Vince always thought of her as soft and smooth. His heart felt like it started beating for the first time, as it always did.

  She was there, leaning against the wall in her own dress, covering every inch of her body up to her neck. It folded and obscured her, but no matter where the fabric fell, Vince knew what beauty lay beneath it. Aemilia saw Vince and smiled.

  “You are late, Vince.” She said, standing from the wall and clasping one hand over the other in anticipation. Her eyes seemed to bore through him. What had he planned to say to her? Vince had forgotten. “Did Old Tiber not tell you it is impolite to keep a lady waiting?”

  She has to know. Vince thought, his mind fighting for focus on the broader world. Her father must be telling her that I will propose. Why did I not come here sooner? Did Tiber talk with him? He should have made me propose long ago. Is the festival supposed to be our celebration for betrothal? I would celebrate everyday for the rest of my life, feast or famine, peace or war.

  No matter how his reason tried, his mind always returned to her.

  “Forgive me, Lady Procas.” He answered, as he always did. “I do not want to keep my lady waiting.”

  Vince went and took her hand and kissed her. In this alleyway, he first found her wandering the city herself. A young woman without a care in the world, mainly because the world cared about her. As Numitus’s daughter, all the city knew of her. Her looks favored her father with the femininity of her lovely mother Silvia. No one would lay a hand on her or face the wrath of the General, save Vince.

  Aemilia took some of the excess fabric and covered her head before being led by Vince’s hand through the labyrinth of Aeterna. They traveled in the shadows and sidestreets to not be spotted before they came to a building owned by Venus and her followers. As always, Vince paid the woman at the door for a room. Soon he and Aemilia were alone once more, separated from the world where she was the lone daughter of the General of Aeterna and Vince was the son of the most beloved man in the city.

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  When their stupor wore off and they lay on the bed together, Vince almost fell into a shallow sleep, but the breathy voice of his love shocked him from his drowsiness.

  “Vince, do you love me?” She asked, curling into his side and hugging him. His mind almost left him when she pressed closer, but his answer came.

  “Truly, I do.” He answered, holding her ever closer. “I adore you, Aemilia.”

  “Oh, and I love you.” Aemilia moved and kissed him again. “When shall we be married? My father will forgo the rite of Mars for you, I know it. Vince, please make me yours in matrimony.”

  With that, Vince’s mind cleared, and he remembered what he had resolved to do at the river. He had no doubt that he wanted to court and wed Aemilia. There was no woman who ever caught his eye nor held his heart like her. But his heart could not be given freely, no now. His brother’s ashes were not yet gone from the temple being carried out by the wind. He could not propose, not today.

  “I will wed you, Aemilia.” He said, sitting up to look at her. She propped herself up on her left arm to meet his eyes. “I promise, I will. But please, give me more time. I cannot while my brother’s body still burns.”

  The eyes that were once loving and entranced turned to shock and the sultry pose of Aemilia became rigid.

  “You will not propose to me?” She asked, her eyes growing wet and her breath quickening. “You will not? But you have claimed to love me? Do you not know that I will comfort you?”

  “I do love and cherish you. Please do not misunderstand. I will wed you, but I cannot while I mourn.”

  “You lie!” Amelia shouted. Her form struggled and left the bed cold for Vince. She looked at him, tears streaming. “Father told me that Tiber vouched for you. He said that you could be trusted and would propose today. Instead, you bed me and treat me as a whore.”

  “Aemilia—” Vince tried to respond and get out of bed. Aemilia stopped him.

  “Do not call me that, you philandering lowlife.” Her voice was incensed, unlike anything he had ever heard before. Tiber nor the General himself could strike so much fear and uncertainty into a man’s heart like the love of his life. “How could you do this to me? I cared for you, and you lie to me.”

  “I do not lie.”

  “You lied to me. You treated me like a whore, like I am a woman of the night for your bed and not a woman who you would dare to marry. I will not stand for this.”

  “Aemilia—” He tried to say, grasping tenderly for her as she clothed herself.

  “Do not call me that, scum!” Aemilia holds out her hand to fend him off. “Do not touch me or utter the name my mother gave me. I gave myself to you, lived with the shame because I believed you would honor me. Do you not know the vicious whispers that surround me, surround my poor mother? If not for my father, I would be known as the town’s harlot. Yet, I believed that you would take me and love me.”

  “I love you, Aemilia.” Vince said, stopping her tirade. She breathes harshly, trying to calm herself. “I always have, and I always will. I promise.”

  Without another word, she covers her head and storms out of the door. By the time Vince had dressed himself and left the room, Aemilia was gone.

  With that he wandered in anguish at what had transpired. What have I done? I loved this woman, even moreso than Ben. I would give anything to have her again. Tell her I did not mean what I said. That I would marry her. But I did not. Why? I should have honored her. Ben is dead and gone. The living need more honor than the dead.

  He found himself walking far away from his home near Tiber. His furious pace carried him all over town but where he was meant to be. Aemilia’s betrayed face never left his mind, and it pained him. Vince felt more alone than he did at Ben’s funeral. Now, he has no brother nor woman to care for him. Where can he go but to his father’s home for solace?

  As Vince went to Tiber’s home, his gait slowed along with the rest of his body. He felt so tired, so disembodied. A dream had taken the place of his life, but the fear and pain it instilled was like a nightmare. A nightmare, however, would not be so cruel. Vesta had not cursed him, nor had any of the other gods. This was all of his own doing.

  When he finally arrived at Tiber’s and knocked, there was no answer. The door was closed when the sun was still up, which meant that the elder was away. Vince entered anyway and sat in the same chair he did such a short time ago. In that same chair, Tiber told him to marry Aemilia and become the pride of Aeterna, the man who would make the heir to War’s fortune and power. Vesta would not just be the goddess of Tiber the master of grain, but the goddess who with Mars brought prosperity to Aeterna.

  It all slipped away, and Vince felt it. The weight of his arms and back became so heavy. Hunched over in that same chair where Tiber opined to him about leadership and duty, Vince cried real and burning tears.