Sarah

To be able to fight because he wanted to, not because he was told; now there was a dream. And presumably to go home afterwards, assuming one survived. It was something that he'd dreamed of achieving himself, when he'd first heard that a slave could gain their freedom in the arena. Once he'd given up hope of escaping of course. Lately however he'd found himself torn, by a girl on the verge of womanhood who wanted - demanded - a bodyguard. In that role he was less likely to get killed, he thought, but also less likely to ever see freedom. And he had to choose, he knew that. He couldn't follow both paths. Then again, even as a gladiator, would Corinthia ever set him free?

It was true that having been a smith gave him some insight into the quality of the weapons they were offered; he nodded in agreement. "Romans make good iron, not know why they have such tiny swords." He said with a smirk. In truth he had observed how frighteningly efficient the Legions were, at close range. It was an experience he hoped never to repeat. But it helped form his views on weapons, one one was a distrust of anything he hadn't seen in battle. The trident and net were showy, but they were also a great way to get yourself killed if you didn't know how to use them.

He'd gleaned hints of Gaia's story from the household slaves, but did not expect the full tale, let alone that her husband had been an Imperial. Perhaps that explained something of his mistress's attitude, caught between the two extremes of society. He decided that it would be best not to comment on the more personal revelation of her less than successful marital life. "Greece." He said instead. "Like Theodorus." He revealed. "Ludus Medicus." He added, as they probably didn't know who Theodorus was.

Even more surprising than her personal revelations was Gaia's suggestion. Perhaps it should not have been, he wasn't sure, but Aeneas was still working out the Roman social structure. Both Gaia and Lexus were now free, even though they had been slaves. He was a slave still. Perhaps he might hope that they saw him as one who might one day be freed? "I come, Domina. If doctore permits." He glanced over his shoulder, but the trainer was already focused on someone else.

@Gothic@Atrice

June 74AD, Emporium Magnum

Whilst a lot of the more select sales occurred either in the buyer's residence or out of the large warehouse he owned that doubled as a human stables, it always paid to maintain a presence in the market itself, especially when the slave auctions were happening. People were here looking for slaves, and so the slave traders were out. Spurius was naturally amongst them, notable for his height and the tall staff he carried, much like an oversized shepherd's crook, complete with hook. It wasn't meant for sheep, though it was rare that he actually had to use it.

With the war in Britannia over the supply of barbarians what could be sold wholesale for the gladiatorial games had dwindled to it's usual trickle, though Spurius had made the most of it while it lasted. Those he could wrangle and shift quickly in bulk, but today he had a more refined selection. Only one of them was a chalk-foot, and she was a strikingly beautiful black-skinned woman all the way from Aegyptus, and probably beyond. He doubted that she'd be here long. She didn't have much in the way of skills but she'd be snapped up for her looks alone. The placard hung around a young girl's neck declared that she was versed in make-up and hair, not as experienced as she would become but cheaper for it, very affordable to an upwardly mobile Plebian or Equite lady. A youth with experience handling animals, an older man who could read, write and do arithmetic - suitable as a clerk or tutor and thus worth a pretty denarius - and a woman who'd served as a general house slave and could cook and sew. Her back wasn't what it had been, though a few days on light duties had seen a marked improvement.

See and be seen, that was what was important. One never knew when a customer might come looking for just what he had to offer. And if he didn't have it on show, there might be something suitable back at the warehouse. And he had his sources if the customer was after something very specific. He aimed to please, it lined his pockets.

@Chevi

July AD77, Circus Maximus

The chariots rounded the curve for the last time, two neck and neck whilst others trailed behind. This was always when the race was at it's most exciting. The charioteer with the chestnut horses had the advantage of the inside of the curve, but the bay team were pressing him hard, and for a moment it looked as though they might actually force the chestnuts into the inner wall. But the team fought back, and the two charioteers thundered towards the finish to the applaud of the crowd, the chestnut team beating the bays by a mere nose.

From where he sat under a shading awning, Tiberius raised a hand and gestured to the winning charioteer, symbolic indication of Caesar's favour, since he was here in his uncle's stead. Handing off the reins to his slaves, the charioteer approached the imperial seating area, even as the adjudicator came forward with a laurel wreath to place on the young man's head. Not a golden one of course, but one woven of leafy bay twigs, since these were only the heats. The grand competition, still some weeks away, would see the presentation of the gold wreath by Caesar himself, or his designate. For the moment Tiberius could simply sit back and watch.

This was more Titus' scene than his, his boisterous cousin loved these kinds of competitions, but Tiberius recognised his duties as important to the Empire. To be present, to be seen, to support those entertainments which so captured the plebians' imaginations, and thus be seen as being in touch with the populace. He personally found the conversations around him more interesting than the racing, and listened whilst watching the race.

@Atrice

Aeneas - 23 - Sarah

Tiberius Claudius Sabuchius - 17 - Sarah

Spurius Antius Claudus - 41 - Sarah

For the moment Lexus had Aeneas's undivided attention, and he soaked up the man's words, his confirmation that he fought, and survived, to win his freedom. If Lexus was looking to inspire hope in the gladiator, he succeeded. The pale-skinned man nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "You must fight well." He said with a sudden smirk. Good for him. Perhaps one day Aeneas might do the same. The training was hard, but not impossible. No doubt the determination that Lexus spoke of helped.

Was he a warrior before he was captured? Obviously not enough of one. "All men warriors," and some of the women, "but I not war-band." He tried to explain. He wasn't one of the chieftain's close fighters; in many ways he had been more crucial to their battles. "I smith." He said. "I made sword for warrior." And without good weapons they wouldn't stand much of a chance. "Also pot, knife, saw. All things iron." Then on impulse he pointed to the burn scar on his right forearm. "I marked by fire." And he'd made the blood-and-iron pact, that gave him master over metal and even the ability to ward off the baen sidhe.

Gaia had turned to watch the other gladiators as they talked, an odd expression crossing her features for a moment before she turned back. He was the slave here, yet he didn't want her to feel left out of the conversation. "You not from Rome either, Domina?" He asked, pretty sure that he knew the answer, given her exotic, dark looks and what the other household slaves had told him.

@Atrice@Gothic

He didn't usually allow the slaves he sold much freedom of speech, but Justinia had proven largely obedient and he saw no harm in humouring her; she might even see it as reward. Had they not been alone he most likely would have refused, but there was no one present to get wrong ideas. Still, he reserved judgement on his own decision until he heard what she had to say. Her words, when they came, were unexpected, though he didn't let surprise show on his horsey features. Instead he responded with a slight nod, inclining his head in acknowledgement.

Her words only confirmed what he himself had determined over time. Slaves, like horses, dogs and children, benefited from routine and from knowing what was expected of them. Many of their behavioural problems were brought on by their own masters. It was hardly surprising that they responded poorly to a cruel master, when nothing they might do brought reprieve, or a mercurial master, one who might lavish praise one moment and beat them the next, for there was no obvious cause and effect. In a way Justinia had suffered the latter, beloved by her Domina but used and despised by her Dominus, and no doubt for the same behaviours. Who could blame her for being confused and anxious?

Spurius himself had no time for those who could not control their passions and tempers. He maintained a stable environment in what was already a stressful and uncertain process for the slaves involved, and very clear rules. Good behaviour was rewarded with peace, warmth, food and a very limited freedom. Bad behaviour was punished, but even the latter had no malice. Punishment was delivered with the intention that it be learned from, and not require repetition. And it was amazing how many 'bad slaves' responded well to the firm but fair approach. And indeed appreciated it.

That hazel gaze held Justinia's dark one for a long moment, before the corner of his mouth quirked in the suggestion of a smile. "Your best thanks to me will be to serve your new mistress well." He said simply. Titinia also understood the importance of handling one's slaves properly; Justinia would likely flower under her guidance. "If you do, you will probably never see me again." Meaning she would not need to be re-sold. He wasn't accustomed to slaves declaring that they would miss him, but he suspected it was simply that she would miss her first stable home.

"Go now, you may continue with your chores. Indoors only, I want no blemishes on your skin before I take you to the Domus Venus." It was clear that he considered the interview to be over.

@Sydney

He wanted to travel and see the Empire, but like his sister he also wanted to be where he could best serve Rome. If the two combined then that would be very well, if not, he would be where he was needed. "Maybe one day." He said simply. She already knew he had itchy feet, no need to bore her with the same.

"Well, I guess that makes sense." The gladiatrix could go where women went and men were forbidden. He wasn't entirely sure about it himself, and she still seemed an odd purchase for their straight-laced uncle, but when put in those terms he could see why. "And do you trust her?" He asked quietly, more from curiosity than from any real suspicion. The majority of the Imperial household was served by slaves who were either Roman or Romanised, so the exotic woman was intriguing. "You have to admit, she turns more heads than a piece of jewellery." He whispered.

But she wasn't a piece of jewellery. She was a barbarian, who had once lived a very different life, before being brought to the comforts of Rome. A life that had taken place in some of the distant lands he longed to visit. "Have you ever asked her about where she came from?" No doubt her point of view would be very different to uncle Octavius'.

@Gothic

A momentary expression of mild annoyance crossed Tiberius's usually calm features as Claudia pushed past him, but disappeared just as quickly as he followed her in. Claudia always was the bolder of the two. "I'm glad to hear you're well." He told their older sister as the pair settled themselves on the edges of the bed, which was already quite crowded. He chuckled at her jest, imagining that two helpless babies probably weren't what she'd been hoping for as a girl expecting siblings.

He studied each baby as they were named, unable to tell them apart but not doubting that their mother could. Honoria, for the man who had been father to Flavia and step-father to the twins, the only father they'd known. And Saturnina; portentious? Hopefully fortunate. Saturn was, amongst other things, a god of bounty and creation, which were desirable traits in a woman. "It's a good name for a girl." He approved. Hopefully her future life would be blessed by her namesake.

"We've been well." He glanced at Claudia for confirmation. As Caesar's kin and wards they were well treated and enjoyed the protection expected for imperials. "We brought some things for you and the girls." He added, and offered over the small, carefully carved box. Inside were amber and lapis lazuli beads, both substances beloved of the gods, and the sort of thing that could be made into a part of the necklaces on which their lunulae - protective amulets - would be hung, when gifted by their father.

@Dev@Gothic

"We'll see." He said, always one to be a little reserved on such commitments. "I often used to quiz Uncle Octavius about his travels in the service of the Empire," alright, he still did, "so I hope I'll get to see some of it myself." And do something that would better the Empire. Like Caecina, he hadn't yet travelled much beyond Rome and the surrounding countryside yet.  "I'll bring you back something, if I manage to go somewhere exotic." He promised with a wink.

Popularity wasn't everything, but for a young man who was still growing into adulthood, sometimes it's lack was felt. No doubt his cousin understood. Tiberius didn't have Titus's bold and sometimes brash confidence, but his thoughtful self-assurance was perhaps more likely to grow into the kind of gravitas that demanded respect. His father had had it, in his youth, but Tiberius had never known Emperor Claudius, having been born after his death.

"Have you asked them?" He asked, perhaps a little cheekily. He intended to ask Quintus what his thoughts were, when he got the opportunity. He didn't actually expect to get any say in the matter of course, but he trusted his uncle to do what would be best for their family and the Empire. No doubt Juliana would see that the same held true for Caecina's match. Not that she should want for suitors, in the way of young women she already seemed mature, and she was very attractive. Being family they wouldn't be a match for each other, unless Quintus saw something he didn't, but likely used to make other political links. He was glad that he didn't have to worry about that political minefield himself. That didn't mean that he couldn't enjoy her company.

And it didn't mean that their family couldn't be more strongly bound together. "Have you spoken with Claudia recently?" He asked, meaning his twin, Claudia Caesaris. She was a politically savvy young woman who might appreciate having their cousin around to chat with, and plot with. Tiberius was firmly of the opinion that the family, however extended, should present a united front. They would be safest that way.

@Echo

The tips of her manicured nails brushed his palm as she took the dried peaches from him, her expression softening slightly from her previous irritation. Why she'd been irritated with him he wasn't quite sure, but that was nothing unusual. She was often cross with him for no apparent reason, or cross with the world and he just happened to be there, so he'd stopped placing any importance on it. Usually if he failed to react her mercurial nature meant that her mood would change in the next moment, as indeed it did.

His question was a gamble, and initially earned him a narrow-eyed look. He drank his wine and waited, helping himself to a few nuts whilst she decided whether to answer him or throw something at him. He figured the odds were pretty even, and was ready to catch her cup, but it never came. Instead, after a thoughtful pause, she did answer him, and not with some idle dismissal. Safe. Prominence. Interesting. Why did she not feel safe? And what did she think she was owed? She was already rich and beautiful.

He was about to ask her, but unexpectedly, she turned the question on him. Corinthia had never seemed to care much for his preferences, and in that unguarded moment her words caught him off guard, hitting right at the wound to his heart that he was trying to let heal. He glanced away - he would not weep in front of her - and took a deep breath. Then he reached for the jug of wine and refilled her cup, which she'd emptied, whilst he sorted through his limited selection of words.

"I not know, now.". He admitted quietly, as he set the jug aside. "Before I want freedom, go home." And he too was being honest. "Be with my wife, my son again." It had been all that he wanted. "But... is too late now. I... gone too long, dead to them. They make the... death fire." And would no doubt sing the songs and tell the tales, assuming that he had died in battle with the Romans. "Eithne is good woman, daughter of chief, she have find new husband. Not wait for dead man." She might mourn him, but she would move on. And knowing that, he felt lost.

Yes, perhaps he might make it back some day, find another wife, have another child, set up his smithy somewhere, but the place he had occupied would have been filled. And where did that leave him? He looked away again, staring off into the distance and absently rubbing the scar on his arm, before abruptly tossing back the rest of the expensive wine in his cup. There was nothing to be gained on pining for the impossible. He shrugged. "So I not know." He said again, in more fatalistic tones.

@Gothic

Ah, the meaning of the expression was fairly obvious once one knew. She wanted him not to talk too much, especially about her and her doings. Including to her mother, which was an interesting caveat. Aeneas deliberately kept his amusement from his face. What did his young mistress intend that her mother would disapprove of?

"I understand." He said gravely. "No say what you say, what you do." He paraphrased. Yes, he understood. Whether or not he would obey might depend on how self-destructive he thought his mistress was being. "Where I from, man who say false word is no man." He added. It was an easy way to lose trust. Including hers. But then Aeneas was not the kind to act rashly, or without reason.

Those barbarian blue eyes searched his mistress's face, wondering whether the same rules would apply for her. Somehow he doubted it, yet if they were to have that kind of relationship where they relied on each other, then there needed to be a certain level of surety. "You, I, need trust." He said, holding her dark gaze. They needed to be able to trust each other.

@Gothic

There was both a thrill and a trepidation in entering the rectangular building that hosted the Senate audience. It had been a place of great tragedy for his family, but also triumph. In his first year of the Cursus Honorum, it was now his right to take a seat amongst the assemblage, and further his learning. Attired in a manner that was not ostentious but never the less appropriate for a son of Caesar.

Some of these men he knew, by reputation if not personally, and some he knew not at all. His uncle Octavius was visible down the front, the seat he was entitled to being a previous Consul. For a moment the size of the building seemed to echo around him, and Tiberius felt oddly naked without the presence of the Praetorian guard. He knew the Senate chamber had not proven so safe as it should have been.

But he could make no contribution to the Empire if he lived in constant fear. The past was behind them, and if he would not see it repeated, he would have to arrange the situation politically so that it would not happen again. To do that, he had to be here. But he was not alone. With a final glance towards his uncle, Tiberius turned towards the upper tier of seats, head held high and expression schooled as though he were far more confident than he felt; the demeanor of an Imperial. Nodding politely to those who greeted him, and greeting those few he knew and passed in turn, he made his way to the upper tiers, determined to learn from today. It was, after all, why he was here.

Usually Spurius would admonish a slave who spoke out of turn – for the first infraction. If they proved hard-of-learning then other methods of aiding the memory occasionally had to be employed, though he far preferred to achieve what he could without any risk of damaging the merchandise. In this case Rufus received only a warning glance; the customer had asked the question and if there was some connection there then fostering it might well lead to a sale, especially if the customer did not learn all he wished to know without buying.

There were different schools of thoughts on slaves; some people became close to them, some too close, and others preferred to be distant. The other potential customer seemed more the latter, as he whispered something to his friend, perhaps warning him against hasty purchases, and redirected the conversation.

As Octavius addressed him Spurius returned the smile warmly. “Of course. Aside from this young man, I have this woman, quite the accomplished seamstress, if you wish to ensure the latest fashion for yourself and your lady, and good clothing for the entire household.” He gestured to a middle-aged woman standing nearby, neatly turned out and obviously Roman-born. She might serve a business better, but one never knew.

“Then I have some more exotic specimens.” He gestured to the cage behind him, which held a varied selection of chalk-foots. “If you’re interested in taking a punt in the arena I have three that show potential as gladiators. That pair from Aegyptus are quiet,” the two men indicated had coal black skin and enticingly exotic features, “and would make a striking pair of personal guards, or perhaps litter bearers, with a little training.” He suggested.

Most of the rest were untrained and Spurius recommended them as farm labour, or general house slaves. There were a few women amongst them, and all were a mix of ages. “I do have a few select individual set aside for private viewing this afternoon, but depending on what you’re looking for, they might interest you.” He suggested, inviting Octavius and Titus to express their needs.

@Gil@Gothic@Sharpie

AD74

Aeneas

* January: This used to be my playground - Gaia, Alexius

* February: Bodyguards at Lupercalia - Cynane

April: It's all fun and games until someone calls the medicus - Theodorus

* June: A hive of scum and villainy - Teutus

* December: A Trojan and a Goddess - Charis

Tiberius Claudius Sabuchius

* January: Flames of Rome - Pontia Comina

* February: Lupercalia Begins

July: Senate Meeting 1

* July: The Gift Horse - Lexus

* September: Paying Respects - Quintus

* December: The Imperial Box - Claudia

Spurius Antius Claudus

* January: The Meat Market - Tertius

* March: A diamond in the rough - Tacita, followed by

* I hope we will be friends

* March: Free Smells - Caia

* April: Sold to? - Rufus, Octavius

* June: A pretty coin for a pretty slave - Theo

Alaricus Aetius Stilicho

* Back in Time (67AD): Meet your new Stepmother

* February: Meet my Crazy Family

AD 73

Aeneas

January -Git chor gladiators 'ere! - Claudia Gaia, Claudia Corinthia

New Kid in Town - Branwen, Eppitacus

* April - Brought in - Corinthia

* July - Saturnalia: Time of the Grinch - Corinthia

Tiberius Claudius Sabucius

Two Halves, One Whole

 Uncle and Nephew

January - Imperial Feast: Before it begins.

Eat, Drink and be Merry.

* December: The Good Stepmother - Drusilla

* New Arrivals - Claudia, Flavia

* Young Bloods -

Spurius Antius Claudus

February: Forgetting Home - Justinia

* December: Saturnalia

Pursing his lips thoughtfully for a moment, Spurius nodded, underlined literate and added speaks Greek dialect. That would do for the moment. Whilst he sold some of his choicer slaves out here in the markets, he usually found more interest for slaves like Rufus in private showings, or when someone came to him looking for something specific. Satisfied, he placed the board around Rufus's neck. There was no roughness in the act, the slaver was simply businesslike. If he didn't sell this morning, there might be time to find out more about him later.

Right now however he had customers, and important ones. Turning, Spurius took in the good clothing and fine manners; likely Senatores, possibly Imperials. "Ave, my lords." He smiled warmly and bowed, suddenly very different from the distant manner he'd used with Rufus. "Of course, I-"

But his usual spiel was interrupted by the younger of the two, who clearly recognised the new, read-headed slave. "Ah, you know this one? His previous Dominos passed, and his Domina wished him sold." Spurius supplied, regarding the interaction between the two with a mild and practiced expression. Why she'd wanted him sold in Rome, he neither knew nor cared. Some people developed attachment to slaves - sometimes a strong attachment - and that could usually be leveraged to guarantee a good sale. And some people came to loathe certain slaves, and wished them gone. Perhaps Rufus had reminded his old master's wife of his master overmuch. Perhaps this well dressed fellow might want to buy him?

@Gil@Sharpie@Gothic

The assertion from Theo that he was very Greek, rather than Roman, drew a wry smile and a faint chuckle from the slave. Though Aeneas knew nothing about the Greeks, it seemed that this man didn't have the same outlook on many things as the Romans, nor the same downlook on slaves.

"Aye, Domina want guard." He confirmed. "I think guard from far land... look good?" He didn't quite have the vocabulary to express his observation that an exotic bodyguard could  be as much a fashion statement as practical. Then he shrugged, clearly not particularly worried about that aspect. "Is better than die in arena." He added, rather more quietly. He saw it as an opportunity.

The man's assurances were gladly received, and the slave nodded, listening. "Thank you, Medicus. I be careful." He assured the man. A lame gladiator was of use to no one, and he knew that his survival depended on his usefulness and interest to his mistress.

So the Medicus watched to see who was injured, and how, and how they progressed. Perhaps, being a man of healing, he wasn't so keen on fighting and killing. Or perhaps he'd simply seen enough of it in the Legions. His last statement caught Aeneas's interest, and the barbarian gladiator cocked his head and regarded Theo with curious blue eyes, emboldened by their conversation. "Please, what is 'theatre'? I not know word." What other entertainments did the Romans enjoy?

@Chevi

In some ways the ritual that had preceeded had felt less strange than many Roman customs, though Aeneas deplored the waste of good meat. But the giving of a god's blessings by those chosen was a concept that was familiar enough, even if the manner was strange. But as a young woman of marriagable age, it had behooved Corinthia to attend, and she had taken her bodyguard. It had been one of his first real outings in Roman society, and it had been somewhat eye-opening. Viewing them on the same footing instead of from behind bars or from the floor of the arena. Yes he seemed largely invisible to those dressed as citizens, but invisible was better than actively disdained.

Corinthia, dressed and made-up in the expensive elegance he thought of as her mask, stepped out amongst her peers, and it was clear from a glance around that those who served as he did - as bodyguards and ensurers of safety - were not required to follow. Only house slaves, serving food and drink, mingled amongst the highborn attendees. Others, many of obviously foreign birth like himself, stayed discretely out of the way about the edges.

Was there a vanity in the fact that the tunic Corinthia had given him to wear had no sleeves? It showed off the blue tattoos on his upper arms, and those along his collarbones were visible past the square neckline, though it was obvious that more were hidden. Leather bracers on his forearms hid the scar on his right and went with the leather jerkin over the tunic, part of the look, along with the belt and sandals with greaves. Whatever. He was more interested in watching those around him, curious about this type of event, and as he glanced about Aeneas became aware that he too was being watched.

She was tall, like him, and pale skinned. Pale eyed too, in this land of dark eyes and mediterranean complexions. Blonde hair was braided back, and the slight raise of the cup in her hand suggested a willingness at least to speak. Aeneas cocked his own head slightly in acknowledgement, and wandered slowly over, coming to stand with his back against the wall nearby, but not too close. "Salve." He said evenly.

@Atrice

a former champion of the arena and freed gladiator

Gaia certainly knew how to get his attention. Those barbaric blue eyes turned to Lexus and gave the man a long, thoughtful look. A former slave and gladiator, now a freedman. Gaia herself was apparently a freed slave, but she'd not been a gladiator. Lexus had, and now he was free. And he was still here. Was he Roman born, or had he simply seen the Roman way of life as preferable to what he had left behind? Aeneas studied the man, but if he was being eyed up in turn, he didn't seem to notice.

"Dominos Lexus." He acknowledged the man, blue eyes glancing at Gaia before returning to him. "Domina Corinthia say I must 'train', 'learn'; I do." He said carefully. His grammar still left a lot to be desired but Gaia at least would notice the constant improvement. "You were champion? You win many arena fights?" He asked, clarifying, obviously curious, and he'd learned that Gaia was the kind to permit such. "I not have big fight yet, only small. Still training." Though he viewed the prospect with both anticipation and trepidation. That way could lie both freedom, or death.

@Gothic@Atrice

Also chocolate. Nom.

I can type really fast, even though I don't touch type. Like, professional typist fast. I acquired this skill through simming for twenty-odd years. The faster you type the more you can sim!

Actually... Lupercalia was surprisingly fun.

What change do you think would most benefit the Empire?

It was best that Justinia's questions about her future went unasked; even had he wanted to, Spurius couldn't answer them. The training of whores and prostitutes was the realm of others; he just sold them. He was however quite sure that her new mistress would not hesitate to make known what was expected of her.

At least there were no protestations. Some female slaves appeared horrified at the idea of being a prostitute, however familiar their previous master might have been with them. Perhaps there was a difference between one and many? Others seemed resigned, some almost intrigued by the idea. If anything Justinia seemed to fall into the last category. It was, at least, a very good brothel. Spurius didn't tend to handle the kind of slaves that would end up in the poor ones.

Good, she understood. That was all that was necessary. Understanding, and acceptance. He'd take her down there personally, not trusting one of his factors not to get swindled by the madame. Besides, he enjoyed the verbal sparring with Titinia, though that was all that he enjoyed from her and hers.

And that would normally have been the end of it, had Justinia not spoken. Spurius raised one eyebrow at her in an appraising manner. "You may." He said after a moment, humouring her.

@Sydney

"Thank you." Tiberius accepted the goblet and took just a sip of the wine, cautious as was his nature. He was not one to get roaring drunk, even when others relaxed. He'd noticed that Claudia practiced the same caution; perhaps not surprising. His fingers traced the embossing on the cup, Hercules and the lion, without really seeing it. Rather he was pondering her question. "I don't know." He admitted, expression suggesting that he found the idea interesting. "Do you think barbarians give their slaves some freedoms at times?" Romans did and their Empire was the greatest, so clearly their system was the correct one and they were right to keep slaves; it stood to reason since they were so obviously blessed by the Gods. "But then, I imagine there are plenty of their traditions that we would find odd." He mused.

"I asked Uncle Octavius if he'd tell me more about his travels one day. I think there'd be a lot to learn from actually seeing the edges of the Empire." It was his hope that he would do so one day. He glanced at Claudia, wondering whether she had any desire to travel, before letting his gaze drift around the room, alighting on some of the more outlandish figures on the other side. "Did he really give you that Amazon slave?" It seemed somehow out of character for the man that Tiberius associated with Libraries and monuments.

@Gothic

Did he feel prepared for the Cursus Honorum? He tilted his slightly as a thoughtful expression crossed his features; he'd not do her the disservice of a flippant answer. "I think so." He said at last. "I am looking forward to it. Lessons can be boring, but some are very interesting." He smiled shyly for a moment. "I actually really like learning about the Empire."He admitted. Titus, his adoptive brother, wasn't quite so keen, but Tiberius could see how it all fit together, and how an understanding of that relevancy and interrelationship could only be beneficial to future governance. "We start with the Military Tribunes. I'm hoping that, if we get deployed, I'll get to see some of the wider Empire in person." That thought excited him. Not the prospect of battle itself, though it was unlikely that he would face it.

But it was a serious subject. Caecina's promise that he and Titus should have first invitations to her next party drew out a boyish grin. "I'll hold you to that. I'm sure your parties are not to be missed." he said, taking a judicious sip from his own cup of wine. Then the subject of marriage came up. As high ranked young things they all faced that prospect, though the young women sooner than the young men. Claudia had mentioned something similar. He wondered for a moment whether there was more to be read into Caecina's words, even as he flushed at her question. "Not so much, no." He admitted, though in truth he wasn't too worried. "Titus tends to be the popular one. I'm sure Caesar will find someone appropriate when the time is right." And Quintus would want what was best for the Empire.

It was, admitedly, one of several topics that he'd like to talk to his uncle and adoptive father about, but the ruler of the Empire was a busy man and there hadn't yet been time. Hopefully soon. Rather he cheekily turned the question back on it's asker. "Surely you've had suitors lining up at your door?"