Hope you all enjoy it!
**REWRITTEN VERSION**
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CHAPTER FOUR
The ride is extremely tense; at least for me. Nicandro is persistent and bold, leaving his knee touching mine, glancing over ever so often to peer at my increasing frustration. This seems to give him great satisfaction and as Evander pulls back the shades to see if we have arrived, he stretches his arms high above his head, slinging one over behind my shoulders. I glower and he grins, his eyes flashing. I quickly look over at Evander for guidance but I see that his attention is drawn elsewhere. I sit straighter, my spine stiff when I feel Nicandro’s fingers softly brush my shoulder.
I jolt, as if electrocuted. Evander and my father look at me as if I have gone mad and Nicandro quickly coughs, covering his merriment behind his hand. I huff and pray to Zeus above to bring us to Octavio’s house immediately when Evander announces, “We are here!” The litter starts to slowly sink and, with a soft thump, we are placed back onto the ground. Moments later, a servant’s hand pulls back the drapes and we are released into the night.
Octavio’s home is similar to Evander’s. It is large and spacious with nude figurines and expensive drapes hanging from the walls. His house is furnished with couches and chairs from all over the world. I can’t help but marvel at the tables, carved with symbols that I guess are from Africa and silk cushions embroidered from, I think, India.
I feel slightly odd, however, when I enter his house. With the Chandrenos, their house was open, airy. But here, I feel enclosed. The walls are all painted dark colors like navy blue and a deep violet. The windows are either small or completely absent from rooms. And I feel slightly claustrophobic in Octavio’s home.
A servant, a tall, black Ethiopian with deep-set eyes, leads us into a large room with couches and chairs scattering the area. A man stands at our entrance. He is short, with pale skin and greasy black hair pulled into a slick pony at the base of his neck. His eyes are watering and his fingers twitch as he approaches us. “Octavio!” Evander booms and claps his long-time friend on the back.
“Good to see you, Evander,” Octavio replies and I am surprised when a deep, manly voice erupts from his mouth.
Evander steps aside, letting Delicia pay her respects to our host. She glides over to him and I can’t help but notice when I see his eyes drift down over her slender frame. Delicia smiles politely and plants a kiss on both of his cheeks. Then, Evander introduces my father and me.
“Octavio, this is Amycus Chatzi, my new partner.” Evander slings a warm arm over Amycus’ shoulders and leads him over to Octavio. I notice immediately how cold Octavio is when he shakes my father’s hand and I narrow my eyes suspiciously: Evander introduces me. “And this is his lovely daughter, Isadora.” I curtsy like a proper lady and offer him my hand. He takes it and plants a wet kiss on either of my cheeks. I realize I must repay the favor and let my lips brush his oily skin, trying to hold back the cringe I so yearn to express. I turn to go, but he doesn’t release me right away. I look up in surprise and his eyes are admiring as they glide over me. Nicandro notices and suddenly, his large form is there behind me.
Octavio releases me instantly and I quickly retreat to my father’s side. “And you remember our son Nicandro, Octavio.” Evander waves a hand at his son.
“Oh, yes. But you were just a boy then,” he says slowly, gripping Nicandro’s hand. He winces and Nicandro grins slyly as I see his fingers crush Octavio’s pudgy ones. Then, Nicandro releases him and stands erectly beside Delicia. I glance shyly over at him, but he stands, eyes heavenward, not bothering to look my way. Part of me wishes for him to do, so that I can express my gratitude, but the other is joyful that he is oblivious, because his sudden audacious behavior is alarming.
At that moment, two other people enter. One of them is a man, the other a woman. The man is short, like Octavio with the same greasy hair. However, he is slimmer than his father with a sharp face and deep-set eyes; Octavio introduces him as his son. “This is Lucretius, my youngest son.” Then, he inclines towards the woman. “And this is my daughter, Celia.”
I can’t help but stare now. The young woman is beautiful but there are no resemblances between the father and his daughter. She is tall and softly curved, with straight, dark hair and light, clear eyes. She is garnished with a pale pink toga with a silver belt and matching sandals. Her hair is not styled but left natural and long, reaching her waist.
My chest constricts when I see Nicandro’s pleased expression when he sees her. Celia bows her head and Octavio reaches out his arm to let us retire to the sofas. I am placed on one with Nicandro. My father, Evander, and Delicia take another. That leaves Octavio and his son Lucretius to the last sofa; Celia sits alone
Dinner is served minutes later and soon we are dinning on the finest eatery Rome can offer. I nibble on a pear and glance sideways at Nicandro, who is lounged comfortably, legs spread and elbow resting on the arm of the sofa. He slips a slice of raw squid into his mouth but his eyes never even twitch. I follow his gaze to where the beautiful Celia sits, her legs delicately crossed, ankles looped. Her chin is raised and her back straight, her posture oozing good breeding. She tilts her head to one side, eyes scanning over Nicandro. Her lips soon curve up in an inviting pose. I see Nicandro shift and his eyes darken suggestively. My chest painfully tightens and I look away.
I barely know Nicandro, yet his behavior towards me today was surprisingly pleasant. I basked in the glow of his attention and I had loved the fact that he wanted to be close to me. But as I gaze on at Celia’s womanly figure and then at my own, which lacks curves that she was blessed with; I understand that I am still a mere child. I know that Celia’s curves haven’t gone unnoticed by Nicandro either and he sits as straight as she does, his eyes never leaving hers.
Finally, dinner is over and we are allowed to tour the home and garden. I walk dutifully between my father and Lucretius. Evander and Octavio pace ahead and Nicandro and Celia lag behind. I hear Celia giggle lightly, and with a quick peek, see that she has her elbow looped around his. A wave of head overwhelms my body at that moment and causes a sheen of sweat to appear on my skin. I briefly close my eyes, pray to Athena for patience and wisdom, and then continue on our way.
We pause in the garden for a while, and I immediately feel at ease. The garden is nothing compared the Chandrenos’ Eden, but still it is comforting to be amongst the heavenly blooms and scents that calm my pounding heart.
Octavio is never without words and his mouth moves constantly. His voice rattles my already-stretched nerves and I veer off into the more spacious area. I don’t notice Lucretius until he speaks. “You like flowers, I see,” he says, his voice as oily as his hair. I glance up at him and nod, quickly looking back to the flowers. His hand snakes out and plucks a daffodil from its nest in the earth. He holds it up to my nose and I breathe deeply, my eyelids fluttering shut. He removes the plant then, and speaks, “This flower is very beautiful.”
I open my eyes. “It is,” I say politely, gazing down into the vibrant yellow petals.
“Almost as beautiful as you,” he states and my eyes widen. When I meet his eyes, they are searching mine with an almost pleading look. I startle and fumble for words when Nicandro is suddenly there, appearing as if from thin air.
“Oh look, Lucretius,” he inclines to me. “You have made her speechless.” Nicandro laughs at my furious glare and Lucretius chuckles half-heatedly, suddenly cold with Nicandro’s arrival.
“You shouldn’t be so bold next time,” Nicandro warns, and I hear a hint of a warning in his words. I narrow my eyes at him as Lucretius squirms uncomfortably under Nicandro’s intense stare.
With nothing to say, Lucretius glides off to join his father and Evander. “Don’t be flattered,” Nicandro tells me harshly.
I gasp. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t be flattered by Lucretius’ behavior.”
“Why? Because you think he voices lies?” I turn forcefully away from him.
“I meant – “ But I never got to hear what he actually meant and it irks me. As I gaze into Nicandro’s mysterious eyes, I wonder what he is thinking about. Is it me that draws his attention? Is it me that haunts his thoughts? My stomach flutters at the thought.
But, it seems Evander is impatient to go. He calls out to us, confirming that it is time for us to depart.
I proceed to leave the garden in a huff.
Back in the litter, I am stiff and unsociable. Nicandro sits beside me again. Fear of his parents and Father overhearing prevents him from talking, but every few moments, he glances at me. Once, I meet his eyes. They are filled with a storm so fierce, I feel as if I am caught drowning. I scoot further away, but he doesn’t pursue.
I retreat to my room for the night when we reach the Chandrenos’ household. I escape onto the balcony and breathe deeply. How could Nicandro say something so thoughtless? I wonder, eyes scanning the midnight blue sky. It is littered with stars and the moon is a crescent, a slice of light in the dark. It had been obvious he was serious, for not one humor line had been creasing his stern face. It also had been obvious that he disagreed with Lucretius’ impression of me. He thinks me ugly, I scowl, leaning restlessly against the railing.
~ ~ ~ ~
The next morning, I wander aimlessly, thoughts of home making my heart ache. I think of Timandra; of all the times we shared racing through the flower-speckled meadows and swimming in the creek. When we first learned how to sew and weave, when we were taught to tend to the cattle and lambs.
I think of Damaris. His soft-featured face and powerful eyes; muscled arms and quick wit; these things made him the ultimate bachelor in my village. He had been my other half…or at least he had been to me. Until Agneta came in-between us. I felt jealousy bubble hotly beneath my skin. He could have had me…
All those memories and more wash over me and I feel close to tears. I can’t explain, even to myself, what I am feeling. It as though a part of me is torn away, as though I am missing half of my heart. I have only been away from Greece for barely a month and yet I feel as though it has been a lifetime.
Romans don’t live or behave like Greeks.
Romans are blunt, even brutal in the way they speak while Greeks are gentle, yet firm. And Romans are greedy and unreliable; Greeks are family-orientated and loyal.
The differences could go on and on.
I am not paying attention to where I drift and find myself floating to the terrence and out into the yard. I flit across the bridge and rest at the very crest of it. I look down into the frog-infested waters and cup my chin with my hands, sighing deeply. “Now, what could be bothering Miss Isadora today?” a voice erupts to my right and I look up in surprise. Nicandro steps onto the bridge. I glare and turn away back to the pond below. He chuckles and anger bubbles like lava inside of me. “Still defensive?” he asks pleasantly.
“I wonder why?” I snap, not looking at him.
“Because of warning you?” There is bewilderment in his voice now. His eyes are sharp, narrowed and I can tell he hasn’t realized the error in his words.
“Warning me?” I state in disbelief, my eyes slits of malice. “You were insulting me!”
His expression takes on a light of realization at my statement. “That’s what you thought…Oh no, Isadora.” He chuckles now and I cross my arms tight across my chest. He draws closer and stands beside me. “If you thought I was disagreeing with Lucretius, you were wrong. I was merely warning you,” he whispers softly, caressing my ears with a sultry voice.
“Of what?” I demand, slightly breathless.
“Just stay clear of Lucretius Tagaris.” Nicandro’s eyes take on a deathly glint and I cringe at their eerie depth.
“Why should I?” I ask airily, feigning that I am uninterested.
“For reasons that you don’t need to know,” he says firmly and I frown.
“Well, if you can’t give me a reason, why should I listen to you?” I stare into his eyes, they flicker in surprise at my defiance.
“Because I said so,” he says stubbornly.
“So you’re saying I should trust you?” I raise my eyebrows.
“Yes,” he answers after a moment’s hesitation, “Yes, you should,” he repeats, now as a command.
“What have you done to show me I can trust you?” I ask sharply and his eyes widen.
“You want proof that you can trust me?” he asks in disbelief.
“Yes,” I answer pointedly.
“You’re mad, woman.” He shakes his head, gazing down into the pond with his arms hanging on the railing.
“Why? Because woman are just supposed to trust men –“
“Yes!” he says and I glower.
“You Romans are pathetic,” I say with disgust but this doesn’t offend him.
He only laughs. “Why? Do Greek men not demand that their woman obey and trust him wholeheartedly?”
“I’m not saying that. The point I’m making is that I’m not your woman!”
His eyebrow rises as he says. “You’re not?” This draws the color to rise in my cheeks and I curse him silently. “You embarrass so easily, Isadora,” he comments as though this is most amusing for him.
“Well, some of us aren’t as shameless as you, Nicandro,” I snap, moving away from him and down the bridge to the earth. He follows, catching up to walk beside me as I climb the grassy slope.
“Shameless?” He cracks a smile and I roll my eyes heavenward.
lol
I really don't enjoy this chapter.
It needs A LOT of work. So, I won't be posting for awhile until I fix it up.
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