As Gaius was standing, facing away from the main entrance, Antony directed his gaze behind him as another guest arrived. With a careful glance, Antony said without words for Gaius to turn around, which he carefully did, not knowing what to expect.
Gaius could smell the wonderful scent of perfume before he turned and saw who was standing behind him. The rose oil swirled around him like a storm at sea, demanding that he take notice of the person wearing it. And as he turned, the woman whom he had dreamt of every night for ten years was standing before him.
It took no effort for Gaius to recognize Julia as she stood in the entranceway, poised as all eyes turned towards her.
He paused, suddenly feeling at a loss for words, staring for a long while, completely dumbfounded as to what he should say to her.
Gaius had imagined her many times over the years. He had pictured wonderful images, and horrid ones as well as those that were unrealistic; whatever his mind needed to do to keep his heart in check. However, even he could never have believed that the little frightened girl who cried in his arms the day he left home could have grown into the vision of beauty that stood before him.
Her hair was long, nearly down to her waist and was as black as a moonless sky, glistening against the torchlight, which reflected the oils that coated the finely woven braids and curls. Strands of her curled hair hung freely over her youthful face. Her lips were rose red and glittered with sparkles of gold dust. Julia’s arms were bare, as her neckline was exposed as long purple silk dress that glided along the marble floor dropped loosely off of her shoulders.
In her hands, a beautiful shawl was held carefully. Gold and other jewels hung from her ears and neck, as well as wrapped around her forearm and wrists.
Julia moved as if she had been born an Egyptian queen. Her presence brought everyone’s attention to her as she entered the arboretum.
Gaius stood, still without words as her piercing eyes stared at him for a long while. She then took the first step towards him, extending her hand, waiting for him to take it and kiss the top of her palm.
He felt the softness of her flesh against his rough hands as he held her palm carefully, smiling with a silly grin. She, on the other hand, stared at him with the same mild-tone expression.
“I am unsure what to say,” Gaius finally spoke as he stood a few inches before her.
“Introductions would be the customary thing to say in this situation,” Julia’s words were polite, but said with an unfamiliar tone. Her voice carried like a lady, one that was confident and commanded respect from those that stood before her. She was a Roman woman now and not the little girl whom Gaius had remembered so vividly.
Gaius’ heart sank to the floor as he stared at her for a long while, silent before he did as she had said.
“My lady, I am Centurion Lucius Gaius.” His words felt heavy as they came from his mouth. He kissed the top of her hand carefully, but Julia’s stare was expressionless, stern and unforgiving, showing no hints of familiarity.
Julia managed a faint smiled before she stepped away and greeted her father and the rest of the guests.
Gaius was confused as he glanced back towards Antony, who too seemed unsure by his sister’s strange attitude. Gaius wondered if all his worries had proven true: had she forgotten him? What a bloody fool he was. What did he expect — her to leap into his arms and cry out his name?
He lowered himself into his seat next to Antony as Julia joined the other women who quickly sparked their own conversations, focusing on the gossip of Rome.
Gaius felt like a fool. Julia wasn’t the same person he remembered. She wasn’t the little girl who hung on his every move like a lost puppy. She was sixteen and a proper Roman woman ready to take her place among the social elite of the Republic's upper class where memories playing in the fields with a farmer’s boy, pretending to be a princess who waited for her brave hero to come to her rescue, were in the past — games for children.
Gaius wished he hadn’t come. A part of him wanted to get up right then and leave. He could find any number of excuses justifying his sudden absence, but he knew it wasn’t right for Antony. He wanted to spend time with him as much as he desired to see Julia. So instead, Gaius took a long swig from his wine and decided to stay.
As Varro and his guest continued with their conversations, losing track of time before dinner was to be served; Gaius did the best he could to pretend he was interested in what the men were saying. From time to time, he and Antony would share a few comments, but it was mostly Antony involved in the conversations, taking his father’s points of view more than expressing his own ideas on the topics.
He still couldn’t help drift his eyes over to Julia when he thought no one was looking. He admired how beautiful she had become, and how well she commanded those around her as all the women hung off of her like extensions of her jewelry.
And subsequently, as he was about to turn his attention back to the guests, as the girls started laughing about something, Gaius hadn’t been able to make out; Julia slowly turned her gazes towards him, first only with her eyes, after that she slightly tilted her head and locked onto his stare.
As Gaius looked at Julia, for only an instant, her whole demeanor altered as her alluring eyes widen, strangely seeming to change back to the girl he remembered, as if a spark had been ignited. She showed a hint of nervousness, which was shared equally with Gaius as a small smile crept across her face.
With faintest of gestures, Julia mumbled a polite and familiar hello to Gaius, ending with a loving grin that she tried best she could hold back, but failing.
Gaius replied to her privet greeting before Julia was forced to turn her attention back to the other women, as they asked her a question, which she eagerly answered before the group erupted into giggling once again.
Gaius’ spirits lifted in that instant as Julia’s stare lingered again, as the two caught one another in each other’s eyes when the opportunity presented itself.
She has not forgotten me; Gaius thought to himself, joyful by his own words. He longed to be by her now, to share in her words, yet, after ten years he was so close, but still distance separated them, as did the proper edict.
He would wait, he decided. He had this long already.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The wine flowed freely, as did the discourse as Varro and two dozen of his guests sat around a long marble table, which at the moment is being covered with the fifth course, which comprised of an assortment of pastries, rich and sweet breads, and a dozen varieties of fruits and nuts, served with an endless flow of hot, cold or honey wine.
Slaves moved in between the guests, refilling silver goblets. Plates were removed when they were emptied, before being filled once more as everyone ate until they were full. A number of the guests, to Gaius’ dismay, vomited into copper buckets that were set next to them; an acceptable act, done, so they could expel their meal and subsequently quickly refill their bellies with more delights as if this was the last meal they were ever going to eat again.
The main course had consisted of assorted soups, spices and wild game such as duck, boar, quail and fish, all mixed with vegetables, breads and sweets that Gaius had never seen, much less tasted. It had been the best meal of his life, and unlike the guests, he wasn’t about to expel the contents of his stomach until nature took its course. Consequently, he wasn’t able to try everything that covered the table.
Varro sat at the head, as the guests were seated by their importance along each side. It had been the senator who carried most of the conversations, as Varro had an unlimited roll of topics which to bring up at any moment. These interests drifted across many subjects, from catching up on personal and family business, to politics of the Senate, and what internal and foreign troubles were plaguing the Republic. More recent, talk shifted to the rogue Carthaginian general, Hannibal and his seemingly madman’s determination to crush Rome entirely on his own.