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February 1st, 75AD


The month started out harshly, weather and news wise. Morning had not begun to take hold as she arrived to her destination. And Cornelia couldn't push the thought from her mind as she was ushered into her brother's home. The home she never grew up in but was her family's ancient nest none the less. She was a sight to behold, hair unbraided and uncurled. Hanging in a straight curtain across her shoulders. Not a stitch of make up on her face, making it clear that she had been crying, for her eyes were red. Her dress and cloak was in black. 

"Wake my brother." She whispered softly to the head household slave, "And only my brother. Tell him I need to see him."

She added on as she moved to sit in the atrium, next to the fire pit that had been lit and fed for her. She shivered at the cold and drew her cloak around her tighter. Horatia and the children need not be up for this. She did not need to face the whole family just yet. She needed her brother's advice however. And his comfort. It was a loss only he could share with her. One he had shared with her many years before when they were newly returned to Rome.

Decima was gone, found in the wee hours of the morning by the slaves of her domus as they had begun to ready the house for the day. A crumpled and broken mess at the bottom of the stairs, goblet still clutched in her hand. She had taken a fall they had said. And now her minor children and estate and the fate of both laid now in her and Appius' hands. 

She looked up when she heard voices and shuffling, glancing towards the entrance expecting her brother to walk through at any moment. 



@Brian

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