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Dec., 357 M.E.
All the way up the Via Spina, Marina Antonina chattered away. “The trick is to look like we belong there. No one will think twice if we act like we belong there.”
Irena Glauca stared out the window of their carriage. Marina had a hundred theories for every day of the week, and Irena had heard all of them. The girl thought she knew better than everyone else, and she felt compelled to deliver these little lectures. Irena wanted to rest her head against the cold glass and watch the snow come down in silence.
Snow wasn’t particularly unusual in the winter in Presidium, but this was the Solstice, and it made the night seem magysk and full of possibilities. Lamps shone in every window of every mansion in the Palatine District, and the snowflakes diffused and scattered the light into a warm, swirling glow.
“What if someone asks how old we are?” asked Honoria Regula, their other friend. Honoria was shorter than Marina and Irena, and she looked even younger than she was. Younger than all of them were.
“No one will ask how old you are,” said Marina. “If they ask, they’ll be more clever than that. They’ll ask who was the emperor when you were born.”
Honoria looked stricken. “Oh, gods. The emperor when we were born...? Um....”
“Trebonius Ursicanus,” said Irena, still not taking her eyes off the window. That wasn’t a very good test of a girl’s age. Trebonius had reigned from 333 to 345, which meant someone born while he was on the throne could be anywhere from 12 to 24.
“He’s the father of our current emperor,” said Marina severely. “So, you ought to remember him.”
Honoria slumped low in her seat, fussing with the low-cut bodice of her new gown and trying to tug it up for the sake of modesty, even though she had almost nothing to conceal or reveal. “Oh, I don’t know about this,” she said. “Maybe we should go back to school. Maybe we should go to your parents’ house, Irena, like we told the headmistress.”
“Too late now,” said Irena. Outside the window, she could see crowds of people in fur cloaks and bright uniforms, and even more lamps. Carriages and sedan chairs jostled for space, disgorging people in colorful silk and glittering gems. The women giggled at the snow and huddled close to gentlemen holding umbrellas as they ran up the steps.
Now she saw the Imperial Palace, ablaze with lights in every possible color. Music and laughter drifted out into the snowy evening. A platoon of servants in purple livery were busy constantly sweeping the steps and spreading cinders to keep people from falling down. Up at the top, by the grand doors, stood at least a dozen guardsmen, resplendent in their black and purple tunics and silver armor. Irena narrowed her eyes, scanning the doorway carefully. No one seemed to be checking for invitations.
The carriage stopped, and all three girls climbed down. Honoria let out a strangled gasp as the icy wind fluttered through their skirts. Irena was caught a bit breathless, too, for a second. Marina had read it was considered impolite to wear too much under one’s dress at an orgy, and the girls had all taken the warning literally. Perhaps too literally, Irena thought, as they hurried up the steps.
In the doorway, Irena could see the whole grand entrance hall, illuminated by floating, spinning lamps. They were magysk, she realized. Probably one of the court sorcerers had done that. Irena had heard stories about the court sorcerers, Lord Faustinus and Lady Darrow, and she wondered if she would get to see them tonight. Faustinus was supposed to be very, very handsome. What if she met him? What if she met him at the orgy, and he...?
A servant stepped in front of them and bowed. Before he could speak, Honoria blurted out, “Emperor Trebonius! Father of the current emperor!”
The servant cocked his head to one side. “Um...yes, ma’am. Whatever you say, ma’am. I was simply going to ask if you wanted to leave your cloaks here.” He gestured to a little room, half-hidden in the entryway, where several other servants were hanging up cloaks and wraps.
They left their cloaks with these men and headed straight for the nearest drinks table, where Marina chose a dark red Cheruscian to give them all “a little more courage.”
Irena felt the fortified wine burn in her throat and slowly warm her from within. It tasted like a very good vintage—probably better than what her father drank. A sense of calm and ease spread through her, and she stood up a bit straighter, looking around the party.
Army and navy officers flirted with dancing girls. Old senators in formal togas chatted with elderly dowagers. A tall, muscular Minertian fellow in a formal white kilt was deep in conversation with a silver-bearded old gentleman who looked like a professor. Beyond those people, Irena could see hundreds of couples dancing to the music of a huge orchestra, which rose above the floor on a stage lined with thousands of flowers.
It looked like a very impressive party. But it didn’t look like an orgy. At least not the orgies she had seen in her fevered teenage imagination.
“Oh, gods,” whispered Honoria. “People are looking at us. It’s so chilly, and this dress is so thin....” She set down her glass and folded her arms over her chest.
“For fuck’s sake,” said Marina. “Try to act like you’ve been to an orgy before, Honoria. This is my fifth one, and you have to act like you belong.”
Irena downed the last of her drink, then picked up a fresh glass. “Fine, then. If you’ve been to these things before, where do we go?”
Marina turned her head from side to side. “Well, um...it’s different every time.”
Over to the right, where an archway seemed to lead into an open courtyard, Irena saw a handsome young man with his arms around two young ladies. He kissed one, then the other, and then all three of them laughed and hurried through the archway, deeper into the palace.
“I think I have an idea,” she said. “Come on.”
They followed the man and the ladies through the courtyard, where another little orchestra was playing, and jugglers were throwing around blazing torches. Then they entered a different wing of the palace, and went down a long series of parlors, some lined with bookshelves, others hung with huge tapestries. The crowds here were not quite so thick, and a lot of people were sitting in little groups on couches or thick cushions, talking like old friends.
Irena spotted the young fellow and his female companions at the far side of a wide marble rotunda, slipping through a curtain. A tiny gust of steam escaped as they did so, and Irena could hear splashing, laughter, and the hiss of fountains.
“Ah, the baths,” said Marina with a knowledgeable air. “Very wise. Hygiene is very important at these things, you know.”
She led the way through the curtain, and the three girls found themselves in a dim, low-vaulted room full of steam and lit by dozens of little glass lamps in every possible color. Wide archways, covered in beaded curtains, led away in three directions. As they stood there, trying to decide where to go first, one of these curtains parted with a clattering sound, and a completely naked man walked in, eating an apple.
Irena tried not to stare. She tried to keep her eyes above his waist. She failed on both counts.
He noticed them, gave a friendly nod, and swallowed the bite he’d taken. “Sorry, but I’m looking for the privy,” he announced. “Don’t suppose you’ve seen it, have you?”
There was a pause, and Irena realized neither of her friends was going to speak. “No,” she said. “We just got here. Sorry.”
He shrugged. “Oh, well. It’s got to be around here somewhere.” Then he took another bite of his apple and ducked through a different curtain of beads.
“Did you see that?” cried Honoria. “His...his...you-know-what was hanging out there! Right out there!”
“Yes, we all saw it,” said Irena, going to the curtain where the man had disappeared. She tried peeking through, but he was gone now, and there was only a narrow, dark corridor, lit by a purple glass lantern.
“Was...was that normal size?” Honoria went on. “Or was that especially big, Marina?”
Marina cleared her throat a few times. “Well, you see...um, they vary a bit in size and shape.”
The third curtain clattered open, and a completely naked woman walked through, heading for the same archway that the naked man had come from. She was blonde and had flowers woven into her hair. Her figure made Irena feel a bit self-conscious.
“Hello,” she said, giving them a jaunty little wave as she passed. At the arch, she turned and said, “Oh, by the way, are any of you into spanking? Giving, I mean, not receiving. Legate Oleanus says he needs someone who will ‘really put her back into it.’”
“Not...especially,” said Irena, who again seemed to be the only one of the three girls who could find her voice.
“Ah, well,” said the woman. “To each her own, right?” Then she disappeared without waiting for a reply.
Irena chose the curtain that the woman had first emerged from and held it open. “Alright, then. Are we going to do this or not?”
Honoria shivered, balled her hands into fists, and nodded vigorously before stalking over to join Irena. They looked back at Marina to see she had gone very pale.
“You know...,” said Marina, “I suddenly remembered I’m not feeling well. A cold, I think. Or no, I may have started my period. Sorry. I’ll, um, be waiting for you outside.”
She dashed out through the first arch and into the big rotunda. They heard her quick footsteps echoing away.
“Her period?” said Honoria, frowning. “Didn’t she already...?”
“Yes,” said Irena. “And she doesn’t have a cold, either.”
“I don’t understand why she would leave, then. I mean, she’s been to four of these, right?”
“I suspect she’s never been to one in her life,” said Irena.
She turned and led Honoria around a darkened corner, through another curtain, and into a wide, echoing hall. Overhead, a glass roof showed the stars and the moon, and little palm trees and great ferns stood amid flowerbeds, clustered around the thin metal pillars that held up the roof. There was a long pool in the middle—a tepidarium—where men and women were both swimming nude. Other people, both clothed and naked, walked around the edge of the pool, or lounged on deep couches that were set into the wall in alcoves shaped like clamshells.
No, wait. Some people were doing a lot more than lounging. Honoria let out a gasp and averted her eyes from the nearest alcove, where three men and two women were all tangled together, heaving and thrusting and sweating. Irena couldn’t stop watching, until her friend grabbed her sleeve and pulled her away.
“Look, there’s a buffet,” said Honoria, pointing to the far side of the pool. “I’m going to get myself a little something to eat first. And maybe a drink. Or two.”
“Yes, fine,” said Irena, pulling her sleeve out of Honoria’s grip. “Go on ahead.”
There was an empty alcove nearby, in the shadiest corner of the room. Irena went over and sat down, sinking into the deep, plush velvet cushions. She looked around the room, hoping to catch some young gentleman’s eye. Was that what she was supposed to do? She didn’t know the etiquette. The only hints she had gotten about how to behave at an orgy had come from Marina, who had clearly been lying about her level of experience.
She lay down, striking what she imagined was a seductive pose. A number of people, both men and women, wandered by. They all smiled at her, and a few of them said, “hello,” but no one joined her in the alcove.
“Maybe I should take my dress off,” Irena thought.
As she was starting to unlace herself, however, the curvy naked blonde girl from earlier wandered over. “Don’t you look comfortable,” she said, grinning.
“Um...yes?” said Irena.
The woman reached out and brushed a lock of hair from Irena’s face. “Is there anything I can get you?”
“Wine?”
The woman lifted Irena’s chin with one finger. “And what do I get if I bring you wine?”
Irena sat up and gave the woman her haughtiest smile. “You’ll have to do it and find out.”
As the woman headed toward the drinks table, swinging her hips, Irena tried to decide if she was ready for this particular experience or not. She didn’t think she liked women that way. But then again, she had never tried sex of any kind at all. So how could she know what she liked?
The blonde woman returned with a whole bottle of wine tucked under one arm. She also had a man with her—a redhead with big muscles and freckles down his arms and legs.
“What do I get for bringing the wine?” the woman asked, handing Irena the bottle.
“I helped her,” said the man, raising an eyebrow and leaning close. “I deserve a reward, too.”
Irena took a long drink, straight from the bottle. She was trying not to stare too much at their naked bodies. She was hoping they would think she did this sort of thing all the time.
“Your reward....,” she said, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “You know, this wine would taste a lot better with some food. Is there fresh fruit? You.” She pointed at the man. “Go find some fruit, and I might kiss you. Or I might not. As for you,” she nodded at the woman. “See if there are any pastries.”
To her surprise, they ran all sorts of errands for her. It felt amazing, and a little intoxicating. Or perhaps that was the wine. She got the man to rub her feet, and the woman to rub her shoulders. They both wanted to kiss her, and probably do more than that. And she could easily have said, “yes.” But for some reason she didn’t understand, she found it more fun to say, “no,” or “not yet.”
“I know what you need,” the woman said, in a low, seductive purr. “You should come with me to the red parlor. You’d like that.”
“And me, too,” said the red-headed man eagerly. “You seem to like games, and there are lots more games we could play.”
Irena studied her fingernails, like she was wondering whether to paint them a different color. “Oh, I don’t know. Why don’t the two of you go on ahead? I might join you later.”
She was a little surprised they actually left her. She had expected them to beg a little more. For a few minutes, she lay amid her bottles of expensive wine and plates of half-finished pastries, waiting for them to return. But they didn’t.
Right about the time she was starting to think she had made a faux pas, and should probably go find this “red parlor,” a man in a gold silk dressing gown wandered over and sat down in her alcove. He didn’t say anything, but he helped himself to some grapes and a couple oysters.
She gave him a long, appraising look. He was older, maybe a little past middle age, in fact, but still in very good shape. She could see the thick cords of muscle in his neck and his lower legs and his forearms. He had black hair, going silver around the temples, and deep brown eyes. His skin was a golden tan color, like he spent a great deal of time outside. Or perhaps his people had come from Minerto or Odeland.
There was something strangely familiar about him, particularly in his profile, but she couldn’t quite place it.
Plucking up her courage, she moved aside a platter of melon and scooted a bit closer. “Hello.” She batted her eyelashes and let out a big sigh, trying to make her bosom heave.
He did a double-take, as if he had only that moment realized he wasn’t alone in the alcove. “Oh. Hello, there. Having a good evening?”
“Perhaps.” She leaned back, looking down her nose as she scanned the hall and the pool. “I mean, it’s tolerable, I suppose. I’ve met a few people who were a bit diverting.”
“Yes, I saw you ordering around Domina Quarrena and her husband, the senator. Did they bring you everything you needed?”
“Not quite everything.” She raised an eyebrow. “Could you go find me a different wine? This one is a bit dry.”
He laughed. “I see. And what will you give me?”
“Anything you want.” She licked her lips. That was probably a bit much, she knew. But she was so nervous now. He looked old enough to be her father, but he was very handsome, and his body was incredible. If only she knew what to do in bed. This was going to be so embarrassing when he realized she had no idea what she was doing.
“Now, that is a tempting offer.” He calmly crossed his legs and folded his hands over one knee. “However, I’m afraid I must decline. You’ll pardon me, but I don’t think you’re quite old enough to be here.”
“What?” She gasped. “What? I mean...what? I am most certainly of age. I’ll have you know I’m 20 years old! Sir, I was born when Trebonius Ursicanus was emperor!”
The man rubbed a hand over his mouth in the most obnoxious way, as if trying to conceal a grin. “That’s funny. I was born when he was a legate in Nivia.”
That seemed like a very odd thing to say, and Irena had a feeling she was being made fun of. But before she could think how to reply, a panel in the wall right next to their alcove swung open, revealing a hidden doorway. A cloud of steam rolled out, carrying with it the scent of jasmine and roses.
A shapely, dark-skinned woman emerged from the steam, wrapped in a long purple and white towel. She had gold combs in her black, curly hair, long gold earrings, and big gold rings on nearly every finger.
“Tullius, darling,” she said, smiling warmly, “there you are. Domina Zerlinetta and the Annenstruker ambassador’s wife wanted to know if we had any larger....” Her voice trailed off as she noticed Irena. “Oh, hello, dear.”
Irena opened her mouth to reply, and then snapped it shut as a cold shiver of horror ran through her. This woman had called the man “Tullius.” And she had dark skin. And so did he, though not as dark as hers. Suddenly she knew where she had seen their faces before. The headmistress back at Domina Varella Girls’ College had a portrait of them hanging over her desk. You could buy a tea towel with their likeness from street vendors in the forum. And she saw the man’s strong, chiseled profile every time she spent a new coin.
She jumped to her feet, scattering a half-empty tray of cheese puffs, and dropped into her lowest, most abject curtsy. “Your imperial majesty. I mean, your majesties, both of you.”
Tullius Ursicanus, Emperor of the Immani, nodded his head in acknowledgment. Empress Vita did a neat little curtsy of her own in her towel.
“Do I know you?” asked the empress. “You seem familiar. Wait. Are you Velma Glauca’s daughter?”
“Um, yes, your majesty.”
“Of course!” said the emperor. “I knew I recognized you from somewhere.”
“Ah, Velma,” said the empress. “Give my best to her and your father. Tell them I’m sorry they couldn’t make it tonight.”
Irena’s stomach turned as she thought what it would have been like to encounter her parents here. She winced and gritted her teeth, trying to stop herself from picturing the two of them swimming languidly in the tepidarium, or sneaking off to the “red parlor” with Domina Quarrena and her husband.
“I remember your mother before she married your father,” the empress went on. “She used to come to my little parties all the time. Now there was a girl who always enjoyed a great big—”
The emperor cleared his throat loudly.
“A great big glass of wine, I was going to say.” The empress winked at Irena, whose face blistered with mortification.
“I daresay we could all use a drink,” said the emperor.
He snapped his fingers, and almost instantly, a servant appeared with a bottle of chilled Argitis and three frosted glasses. Irena finished hers in two quick swallows and gratefully accepted a refill.
“Of course, that was when Velma was a bit older than you are now, I think,” the empress said, giving Irena a critical glance up and down. “How old are you, dear?”
“Um...18?”
“Nice try.”
Irena tried to hide her embarrassment by gulping down more Argitis, but before she could reach for the bottle and pour herself some more, the empress gently removed the glass from her hand and looped her arm through Irena’s.
“Come along, dear. Let me show you back to the public parlors, where one of my ladies will be happy to escort you to the armor court. We have a little dance there for people your age.” She smiled. “Oh, don’t look so glum. Your little friend, Honoria, is already out there. I found her hiding behind the dessert table a while ago. And there are a number of handsome gentlemen, too.”
“Gentlemen, ma’am?”
“Well, boys, to be honest. But I daresay you can make them fetch and carry for you, too. There’s a whole class of boys from some military academy. I don’t think they’ve seen girls in months. You might well make a conquest, my dear.”
“I don’t know about that,” said the emperor, padding along behind them in his golden silk robe. “If they’re like the boys I went to military school with, half of them will be in love with each other.”
“Then they will appreciate finding a nice girl who will listen to their woes,” said the empress.
At the archway and curtain that led into the big rotunda, the empress waved a hand, and as if by magy, a beautiful dark-haired girl in a purple gown appeared—presumably the lady-in-waiting who would serve as Irena’s guard and escort.
“Your majesties,” said Irena, “I know I don’t have any right to ask, but could you promise me not to mention this to my parents when you see them?”
The emperor and empress looked at each other and laughed. His majesty said, “Miss Irena, if you think your parents would be angry at you for this, then you don’t know them as well as you think you do.”
“But if you insist,” said the empress, “then we will keep your secret.”
A few minutes later, when she was down in the armor room with the military cadets and dozens of other boys and girls, she found Honoria and Marina. They both demanded to know about her adventures at the orgy.
“Did you do it?” whispered Marina. “Did you get laid?”
She thought very seriously about lying, but then she decided that in this particular case, the truth might be even more fun than the lie. “No, I didn’t,” she said. “But I’ve learned some things are even better than sex.”
“What could be better than sex?” mused Honoria.
But Irena barely heard her. She left her friends, crossed the gleaming marble floor, and marched right up to a group of cadets. Turning to the best-looking one of the bunch, she heaved a sigh and said, “I’m terribly thirsty. Could you fetch me a drink?”
And sure enough, he could.