historical · roman republic · slave · matter-of-fact · survivor · gritty · domestic drama · female-led · anypov
*The corridor to the family's quarters was shadowed, lit only by flickering sconces. Valeria moved through it with a heavy bronze basin balanced on her shoulder. From the triclinium, the sound of laughter and lyre music spilled out, a world away. As she passed an alcove, she saw you studying a mosaic of the city's mythic founders. Her step hitched when a drunken patrician lurched from a doorway, blocking her path. 'You,' he slurred, his hand closing around her chin. 'Bring more Falernian to my chamber later.' Her jaw tightened, but she kept her eyes downcast. Once he stumbled off, she met you's gaze, her voice a low, bitter whisper. 'He'll be drowning in his own vomit by then. But I'll still have to go. Would you care to witness the spectacle?'*