Claudia Acte

Six weeks earlier…

“Claudia,” a familiar voice said to me through my sleep, “It’s time to get up.” My eyes blinked open to see Demetri sitting at the edge of my bed. His face lit up once he saw my heavy eyelids open. He smiled at me, and I smiled back.

            “Agrippina will be expecting her breakfast soon,” he added.

            “Of course,” I answered as I sat up. I kissed him on the cheek and got ready for my duties. Demetri went out to check on the other slaves to be sure that they were up and working as I went off to the already busy kitchen that was filled with cooks preparing food for political officials and slaves alike. I walked over to where I did everyday to the station where Grumio was working. I put the queen’s tray down as he slid the first of three plates over to me.

            “Good morning,” he greeted me with a smile.

            “Good morning, Grumio,” I answered pleasantly, “busy morning?”

            “Isn’t it always?” He slid me another plate. “How is she?”

            “Agrippina?”

            “Yes.” I adjusted the plates on the tray and waited for the last one.

            “She’s been more nervous lately,” I answered quietly.

            “I would be too if Nero was my son,” he commented as he handed me the last plate. “Wait,” he continued. He turned his back and searched a shelf for something. He held a cup in his hand. Once he found the special tonic, he poured a little bit into the cup and then put water in it.

            “Give her this,” he said, “this will ease some of her nerves.”

            “Thank you,” I said. He winked at me as I turned away. Right before I left, Publius ran up to me gasping for breath and holding a letter.

            “Get this to Agrippina,” he said.

            “Who is it from?” I asked. He looked again at the letter as if he forgot and shrugged.

            “No seal,” he said.

            I smiled, “This should be interesting.” I told him to put it on my tray and I continued on my way to Agrippina’s chambers.

I walked in and set her tray in her dining area. She was lying on her favorite couch in front of the table.

            “Good morning,” I said bowing and stepping away from the table.

            “Good morning, my sweet Claudia,” she answered. She lifted the paper off the tray and looked at it questioningly.

            “Who is it from?” she asked.

            “Publius didn’t know,” I answered, “and there is no seal.” She picked up the letter while she was eating and flipped the letter over and back as she surveyed the outside. She set it down and finished her breakfast.

            Once she was finished she stood up and took the letter. As her eyes moved from left to right, her expression turned to panic. She shoved the letter into me.

            “Burn this,” she said, “now,” she continued with a very stern edge in her voice. I took the letter and walked over to the fire as I quickly gazed down and saw three words: HE IS ALIVE. I threw the paper into the fire and watched it be consumed by the flames. I turned back to the door to see the queen with her cloak on as she held mine out for me.

            “We need to go see Seneca.”

            “Yes ma’am,” I answered as I took the cloak and followed close behind her down the hallway. I was almost running behind her with how swiftly her feet were moving.

            We came up to the Senate House and went directly to Seneca’s room. I shut the door behind me once we were in the room.

            “I got a letter today,” she said bluntly. He looked up from his papers on his desk and stood up.

            “What do you mean?” he asked all of a sudden concerned.

            “They have found him.”

            “How?” he asked coming around the desk with all of his eyes on her.

            “He is a gladiator for Antony Facio Julius in Fetum Speī, a city three days north of Rome.”

            “How did he escape from Waleri?”

            “My cousin is dense,” she said throwing her arms up, “I can’t believe I gave him Milo in the first place!”

            “Did Waleri ever let him fight?” Seneca asked.

            “No.”

            “Well, you said he was a gladiator. He will soon die in the arena without good training.”

            “He has been a gladiator for over three months. If he was going to die, he would have died already!”

            “Agrippina, there’s no need to throw this out of proportion.” He lifted his hand to consol her.

            She slapped his hand away, “My overreaction is completely necessary! Don’t you realize that the people of Rome are going to realize something is going on when they realize the exact twin of Nero is a rising gladiator-”

            “In a distant province,” Seneca said interrupting her. Agrippina didn’t answer.

            “What else did the letter say?” Seneca asked.

            “It said that Antony was planning on coming to Rome.”

            “When?”

            “Whenever he could get in one of our spectacles.”

            “You must let him come.”

            “That is a dangerous thing.”

            “Having him strut around his province is dangerous enough in itself! What if he came here and died within him approaching the gates? What if he never made it to Rome?”

            “We will discuss this after I talk to my son,” she turned towards the door.

            “The gods will favor you in this,” he said.

            “His father will favor him! His father hates me for what I did!”

            “What choice did you have? Janus did not give you another option.”

            She shook her head, “I had a choice, and I chose to watch my son grow up.” Silence.

            “Come, Claudia. It’s time for us to go,” and we left Seneca in silence.

As we walked back to the palace, Agrippina would nervously look back frequently to see if anyone was following us. My guess was that someone was and her looking back was making us look guilty of whatever she was talking about with Seneca. This wasn’t the first time she had brought me with her to see Seneca about Nero’s brother, Milo. In recent months she had been more paranoid as her cousin would send her letter after letter telling her that he could not find Milo. Now, he had supposedly found this mystery man and was tracking him. Hopefully, this would pass quickly, but I had a feeling it was only beginning.

            I wondered if Nero had heard anything about this. What would he say? What would he do? Would he try and kill him mother? That was the worst crime to commit in Rome that even the Emperor of Rome could not get away with.

            When we came up to the palace, we found Vibius, one of Nero’s slaves, waiting for us.

            “My lady,” he said with a bow, “Nero requests the presence of your slave.”

            “This one?” Agrippina asked pointing at me.

            “He requested her specifically.”

            She sighed, “I do as the emperor commands even if he is my son.” She waved for me to go with Vibius and then she went in the other direction to her room. I looked back to make sure that Agrippina could not hear me.

            “Vibius,” I asked him, “what does Nero want with me?”

            “I have no idea,” he said, “but I don’t think he has good intentions.” Did Nero want to kill me? I didn’t know. He had just started to become insane with power. What could I have done to anger him? I felt the blood rush away from my face.

            When we walked up to the door Vibius looked at me and gave me a reassuring nod.

            “Don’t come in until he tells you to.” I nodded back at him. He knocked on the door and I heard Nero’s voice calling him in. I felt butterflies in my stomach and a chill went down my spine at the sound of his voice. Vibius stepped into the room keeping the door slightly open behind him.

            “Emperor,” Vibius said once he was inside, “I have brought the slave you have requested.”

            “Good,” Nero’s horrific voice said, “send her in.” I walked into his room and looked around at all of the lavish things that were on display. I bowed to him.

            “Your majesty,” I said and stood up.

            “Vibius,” Nero said, “leave us.” He bowed and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

            “I had heard that my mother had acquired a beautiful slave, but I wanted to see for myself. What is your name?”

            “My name is Claudia,” I said as I kept my head down so that I didn’t have to look at him. His words seemed to crawl into my ears like leeches that slowly wanted to watch me die at the slow sucking of my blood.

            “Why are you so tense?” he asked as he walked closer to me. He ran his fingertips softly up my arm and onto my chin as he lifted my face so that he could clearly see my face.

            “You are, indeed, beautiful,” he said as he rubbed his thumb on my cheek.

            “Thank you,” I said entranced by his eyes. They were sickly red, evil. They frightened me. I tried to look away, but I couldn’t.

            “You are more beautiful than the rumors described.” A smile drifted to his face. What rumors? I stared back into his dark eyes again. His hand trailed up my jaw line and into my hair as he loosened my bun and let my loose hair fall to my shoulders. I stared back into his dark eyes again. He fluffed my hair and stared back into my eyes. I broke our gaze and looked down at the ground.

            “Do I make you nervous?” he asked.

            I looked back up at him and went with my instinct answer, “Yes.”

            His smile grew, “Good.” His hands trailed down my back, and he began kissing me.