Page 90 of Firebird
Taking a goblet of wine from one of the hired servants, I ambled past the atrium near the musicians. Ruskus appeared from near the foyer entrance of my home, his expression concerned. I met him so that he didn’t have to mingle among the guests.
“What is it?” I asked.
“The girls from the brothel. They aren’t coming.”
“Why not?” I demanded.
“There was an altercation at the brothel house. Some foreigners fighting over a girl, which turned into mayhem and started a fire. Some of the women were injured. Madame sends her apologies and returned your denarii.”
“Son of Dis,” I cursed.
Entertainment was always required of a host at these events. And music was not traditionally enough. Romans liked to be entertained, more specifically by beautiful women. I’d also hired prostitutes for favors they might give when the rowdy ones had drunk and laughed enough and wanted to fuck.
“Don’t worry. We are improvising.”
“What do you mean?”
Igniculus stepped to my side. Ruskus disappeared back toward the kitchen.
“Come, Julian. Have you met Fausta?” He guided me to the female dragon of the Media Nocte house I’d met on more than one occasion.
“Yes, we’ve met.” I gave her a nod. “Welcome to my home, Fausta.”
“I am pleased to be among your noble guests tonight, Julianus. Won’t you sit with me?”
My uncle’s grin was nothing less than telling. He wanted me to tie myself to a noble house and beget a pure-blood heir. He had only ever begotten bastards, who were killed at birth, if the rumors were true. I’d asked him once if he planned to marry. His nauseating reply wasthat the only woman he would ever make his wife lived in the dragon pit behind his palace. I believe my aunt Camilla knew this, and that was why she remained in dragon form.
“Such a succulent meal you’ve provided us,” Fausta was saying as she draped herself on her side among the pillows, her gown slipping enough to reveal the elegant curve of her shoulder without being too immodest.
“I am pleased to provide it.” I stretched out on a nearby chaise, propped on my side as well, doing my best to look at ease.
“Your home is quite lovely.” She stared at the mosaic on the opposite side of the atrium, the one of Diana hunting with her bow, her wings flared and tail curling, her hair billowing in the unseen wind. “You have an affection for the huntress goddess? Or just beautiful women?” she teased.
“You would think me a fool if I didn’t enjoy the beauty of graceful women, would you not?”
She tipped her head, baring her throat in that submissive pose again, her curls sliding over the silken skin of her shoulder.
Ciprian, now back in human form, lowered himself and sprawled beside us, dressed in his toga once again, completing our circle. “Julian enjoys beautiful women. Don’t you?” He plucked an olive from the tray between us and popped it into his mouth. “Where’s that pretty slave girl of yours?”
“Ciprian, you are a guest in my home. Though I accord all guests what comforts and pleasures I can provide, my servants are not on the menu.”
“Keeping her all to yourself, are you?” He popped another olive and chewed obnoxiously. “Too bad. I enjoyed the taste of her blood.”
Fausta’s expression pinched in annoyance or disgust or both. What I knew of her was that she came from a more noble family than her distant cousin Ciprian, and apparently she didn’t seem to relish hisvulgarity. She turned her head toward the musicians, pretending not to hear his obscenities.
Ciprian leaned toward me and whispered loud enough for her to hear, “Have you tasted her?” He chuckled darkly. “What am I saying? Of course you have. That’s why you don’t want to share.” He then raised his voice. “Fausta.”
She turned to look at him with undisguised annoyance.
“If you catch Julian here for a husband, be sure and sell his slaves first. I’ll take at least one off your hands.” He laughed when both of us didn’t.
“I’ll die first,” I growled, unable to hold my tongue.
That had Ciprian grinning with glee. “That good, eh? Seems I need to try her magic pussy.”
I was across the carpet on my knees, lifting him by the front of his toga. “I know what you tried to do today.”
“Almost had her too,” he admitted freely, unruffled. “I bet she sucks good cock with that full mouth of hers.”
