Young Writers Society

Even shorter!

Sorry that it took me so long to put this on here.

Well...hopefully you all enjoy it!

**REWRITTEN VERSION**

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CHAPTER THREE

The weeks pass with little event. I find myself frequenting the garden more and more, finding the fragrant air refreshing compared to the populated streets of Rome. And more times than none, my heart longs to sing in the hills of my homeland. I miss my mother, Damaris, and Timandra. I miss the sound of bleating goats and bah-ing lambs, of songbirds and crickets. The crackling fire before bed and the smell of cooking meat in the morning. Of my mothers singing while she works on the loom and of Father’s humming as he shovels dirt in our small patchwork garden; little children rolling in the fields of clover and lilacs.

Lilacs.

They are the things I long for most. Every morning, before dawn, I would rise and pick a bouquet for the table back in Greece. Our house always smelled of lilacs, as did I for I would rub their sweet nectar on my wrists before I would head out for the day. Mostly to impress Damaris and to show him I was better groomed than the other girls. However, that did nothing to attract him. His eyes were never focused on the women of the village. His were always scanning the horizon for a journey beyond this flowered island. I can remember seeing the flames of war reflected in his eyes. He craved for glory and adventure, something I never understood after her recounted this all to me.

Maybe it was just excitement he wished for; something new and random in his routine life. Now that I could understand, for I was the same way; I needed that spark of random, that glimmer of mystery in the dullness of my life. And now that I am in Rome, at first, life was different, new. It had a novelistic outlook and I was optimistic that maybe, my life would change. But now, everything is back to the same normalcy and life is but a system of hours, repetitive and extremely boring.

I am surprised when father knocks at my door in the late hours of the evening. I am out on the balcony, watching the sun descend when he enters. “Father!” I exclaim, overcome with joy at the sight of him. Work has kept him from me and I embrace him.

“Oh, what a warm welcome for an old man,” he chuckles, patting me fondly on the back.

“I’ve missed you,” I say, pressing my face into his chest. He smells as he always does. Smoky from chewing tobacco and salt from the ocean. His wool tunic scratches my cheek and I smile contentedly into the fibers.

“I’ve only been away for a few hours, Isadora.” He is bewildered by my sudden joy at his appearance; I can tell by his voice.

“I know. But there is no body to talk to here. I feel all alone,” I confess and he hushes me, pulling away from me.

“No worries for I have good news. We have been invited to a dinner in honor of Evander and I joining together to run his business,” he announces, his lips parting in an enthusiastic smile, flashing his teeth.

But my stomach sinks at the news.

“That’s wonderful.” I try to hide my melancholy when I hear that Father did indeed accept Evander’s offer of partnership. I don’t know why I am so disappointed at the prospect. Maybe it’s because I know we will be staying longer in Rome because of this. But it will bring your family wealth, a voice whispers in my ears and I sigh, knowing that it is true.

` “You seem less than happy at this prospect,” Father notices, lifting my chin. “What troubles you, child?”

“Don’t fret, Father. It is Mother I miss. She would have loved to go to this dinner,” I lie swiftly and this pacifies him, for the moment.

“I know dear but your mother is happy at home in Greece.” Suddenly, he claps his hands together. “Now, Evander sent for a servant to help you change into proper attire. Ah, and here she is now!” I look to the doorway where a meek looking girl in slave’s clothes and wearing a green anklet enters the room. She bows her head respectfully as my father pinches my cheek affectionately before departing to let me change.

I feel awkward as the girl approaches. She lays an elaborate toga with elegant designs of gold on my bed. She looks at me expectantly and I am embarrassed to discover that she wishes for me to remove my clothes. I fumble with the clasp at my waist holding my tunic in place before removing my shirt with deliberate care along with my pleated skirt.

She nears and slips the toga around me, tying the rope embedded on the waist snugly around my hips. “You have a very nice figure, miss,” she turns quickly away. I assess myself in the mirror at her comment and see that the toga falls tightly against my frame and the rope shows off my slender waist. I smile faintly before she inclines to a chair. I sit and she pulls my hair from its usual bun.

It feels as though she plans to make me bald as she runs the comb through my hair for the thousandth time. “Please, could you use a gentler hand?” I reprimand her softly, gasping as precious hairs are plucked from my skull.

“Sorry miss but your hair…is like straw!” She grunts as she rips through a knot at the base of my neck. I grimace and clutch at my head.

“You mustn’t be so rough,” I tell her, but she pays me no mind until my hair is smooth of imperfections.

Once my hair is brushed, she weaves beads of glass into it and creates a complicated up-do. Then she paints carmine onto my lips and eyelids and brushes gold onto my cheeks to make them shine. When she finishes, she leads me to the mirror. I gasp, touching my hair with trembling fingers. “You are very skilled – “ I realize I don’t know her name.

“Lyra,” she says promptly and I nod.

“Lyra,” I repeat.

“And, thank you,” she says in response to my compliment as she gathers her things. She then departs without another word, leaving me to slip into the sandals she left behind.

Down in the entrance hall, the entire Chandrenos family greets me, and I admire them from where I stand. Evander is clothed in a cerulean blue toga that hangs from one shoulder and gold-gilded sandals. His hair is combed and his eyes shine in anticipation.

Delicia wears a violet toga, and a wide belt cinches her tiny waist. Her feet are adorned with sandals with laces running all the way up to her knees. Her hair is curled, embedded with a beaded headdress of silver.

My father, Amycus, is in simple attire, nothing as grand as the Chandrenos family. His toga is of a sea-foam green with silver stitching. His hair is pulled into a pony at the base of his neck and his beard is trimmed. His brown eyes crinkle with delight when he spots me and I beam at him as I enter further into the room.

That is when I catch sight of Nicandro.

I feel myself halt. I hadn’t seen him lurking silently behind a pillar, but at my entrance into the hall, he steps forward and appears, leaving me breathless. I see that his body is draped in a toga of fine cotton, dyed a shocking red. His hair is messy, as usual, and brushes his amazingly long lashes that line stormy eyes that bore into my own. The red of his toga sets off his inky curls and similar dark eyes with an intensity that shocks me and I have to look away.

I see from the corner of my eye that his mouth is opening to speak, but Evander cuts him off. “Now that we have all gathered, let us retire to the awaiting litter so that we won’t keep Octavio waiting any longer.” I quickly catch up with my father and grip his elbow with the help of a muscular slave so I can descend into the litter.

I notice that this one is far more fabulously furnished than the other for its plush cushion seats and draping green and purple shades that shield us from unwanted attention in the streets. Delicia is already seated, gracefully leaning against the arm of her seat. I quickly sit across from her when Evander enters, followed by my father, who both takes seats beside Delicia. That only leaves one spot for Nicandro and he sits confidently, sinking deeply into the cushions so his knee bumps mine.

I frown sternly at him but he keeps his features intake, giving no hint to what he may be feeling. His eyes flicker casually over my body and I scoot slowly away. He notices my rosy cheeks and an easy grin slides across his lips. He leans further back until his knees rest lightly against mine.

I am astonished at his sudden audacious behavior and vouch this by eyeing him coolly. He doesn’t give me any inclination that he feels shameful over his behavior, only turning away seemingly bored. I see that I can no longer move over and he has me trapped so I cross my arms forcefully and gaze through the silky drapes, ignoring the slight pressure of his knee against my thigh.

I think of his parents then and look across the litter in hopes that they are oblivious to their son’s daring actions. Evander and my father are in a deep discussion, heads bowed and lips moving in whispers. I glance across to Delicia and see that her eyes are closed and her head rests back against the seat. The litter rises from the streets and the servants start their journey to Octavio’s house.