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The Heart Of The People, The Soul Of A City


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It wasn't a rare thing to spot the Augusta roaming the streets of the great marketplace, all in a desperate need to get away from home. It was not home itself that she longed to be free of nor the people within it, however, but deep down there was still a little girl who spent most of her life in the confines of a villa. Living in exile for crimes she had not committed, but still her existence was deemed too dangerous to be allowed by someone else who rose to power by the bloodletting that occurred when her father and mother were killed.  
Yet anyone looking at the woman as she moved from one merchant stall to another, she wouldn't come across as someone who lived in luxury. As a Queen. Her face was bare of makeup and she wore no jewelry.  Her hair was in a simple style, held back and away from her face by a leather strap at the nape of her neck. Wild curls threatening to undo the bindings. Fingers stained with ink, as always. Her clothing was simple linen, and while marked her as a proper Roman matron, she had nothing on her to mark her as the Augusta. 
Accompanied only by her ladies, but none the less protected from anyone that might do her harm. Cauaria, tall and broad - a former shield maiden before sold by her family and sent to Rome, was ever watchful of those who interacted with the Augusta and her ladies. The first of which now found a fabric stall and had begun to negotiate for bolts of fine linen and silks. Many projects to be done. The linens would be clothing for the poor and while the silks would be turned into tunics for her husband and sons. 
"Come, ladies. There are many places left to go" She said softly after she was done there, stepping out into the busy road once again. Weaving her way in and out of the mass of people. There was chattering and life. And while the smells off the busier part of the city was left much to want, Drusilla loved it, she loved the sounds of the people talking and clattering about. It was easy to get lost into, and yet she knew her way by heart, for she had made her way across the line of merchants many times before.
Yet, suddenly her path was blocked and she glanced up from rummaging through her back. "Pardon if you would, I need to get to get the inks." She said softly, hoping she would be heard by the other person who had apparently planted themselves in her path and was, and she knew it was ridiculous to think it but, seemingly refusing to move from it and let her through. 
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As usual when she had free time, Caecina was out shopping. Though she had been only a few weeks ago, she was interested to see what had come to the stalls since she had last been. It was always fascinating to visit the jewelers and see what new designs they had come up with, or to feel the different cloths that had arrived. Even though there was a smell of poverty about, Caecina could ignore it in order to enjoy the wares. Today, she had purchased some beautiful, fine fabric to make into a chiton, as well as a new pair of sandals. She decided to stop by a stall which sold writing supplies, which she was running low on. She needed to keep in touch with Juliana more, since Juliana mostly stayed in the villa while Caecina preferred the city. 

As she looked through the jars of ink, the girl adjusted her palla, which was a beautiful sky blue with a flowery, embroidered edge. Her chiton was a fine, white linen, and she wore various pieces of jewelry, including her everyday bracelet of a snake twining around her wrist. In her own world, she stepped in front of another woman in order to get a better look at some of the merchandise, but then she heard a voice that she faintly recognized. Turning, she saw her - the Augusta! Caecina blushed when she realized she had stepped in front of her, dipping her head in respect. "Augusta! How rude of me, I'm sorry!" She stepped out of her way. "How are you?" Caecina had met the older woman a few times, though she had had little reason to stop and talk with her in her pursuit of entertainment with the Imperial princes. But she remembered her as a kind and soft-spoken woman, something akin to Juliana. And anyone who reminded her of Juliana had already won her respect. 


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