Up in her room, Druscilla leaned against the closed door. Her hands were crossed before her as she thought of which dress to wear. A slave had helped her undress, then left to fix a tincture for her aching head.

Moving away from the door, Druscilla picked up the stola laid out on her bed. It was fawn colored with a deep red band around the bottom of the skirt. Her palla was the same shade of crimson. The clips she had to hold the undergarment in place on her shoulders were gold with rubies twinkling on the clasp.

It may have been too much for so early in the day, but Druscilla didn’t care. She wanted to look nice and knew the red in the palla drew out the red highlights in her dark hair. Also, the red hue brightened her eyes and made them a deeper brown.

They were new acquisitions, made with the finest linen. As she replaced them upon the bed, she imagined Krystus seeing her in them. She ruefully chuckled and shook her head on her way to the basin of water. Knowing men, he’d probably take no note of her appearance.

At the basin, Dru quickly washed. As she was toweling herself dry, Corinna came in carrying a cup which contained her headache medicine. She was a new, well trained purchase. She waited for Druscilla to drain the mug and took it from her as it left her lips.

Druscilla stepped to the bed and waited to be helped into her garments. After having dressed, Dru looked at herself in the polished metal to make certain everything was in place. She didn’t want to keep Krystus waiting too long, but she didn’t want to go down looking as if she were only half done.

She pinched her cheeks and rechecked her hair. Satisfied that she looked her best, at least as good as anyone with a headache could look, Dru left her rooms.

Her home wasn’t as large as that of the Proconsul, but it was well decorated and staffed. Servius had been a wealthy man before his demise and had left her with enough never to have need to marry again. She’d only done so before because she used to fear her brother. He had controlled her life until her last disastrous marriage. After that, Dru had taken a stand...and she was still standing on her own.

As she walked down the long hall that led from her apartments to the peristyle, Dru was met by her major domo, Janus. She sighed, as she came to a stop. “Don’t tell me my brother has come back already.”

A smile played about the man’s mouth before he answered. He’d witnessed the whole scene outside her home this morning, it appeared. “No mistress. You’re brother has not returned. But, there is someone here who wishes to speak with Proconsul Domitius.”

Diantha raised a brow in question. They’d arrived less than a half hour ago and Krystus had been found. Her heart pounded, thinking they’d come to arrest or question Krystus. “Who is it?” she asked in a strained voice.

“No one of consequence.” Janus replied in a dry voice. She could tell he was annoyed. Whoever this mystery person was, he must be full of himself to have annoyed the easy-going major domo. “He is the messenger for the Great orator Tullius Cicero.” Janus said the last in a somewhat mocking tone.

Druscilla coughed to smother a laugh. The major domo had taken a severe disliking to the messenger. Clearing her throat, Druscilla replied, “I suppose we shouldn’t keep the man waiting. I’ll inform the Proconsul myself.”

She mentally shook her head as the major domo left, disappointed no doubt that the messenger would not be kept waiting. She continued on her way, thinking that now Krystus would surely have to leave. She didn’t want to let him out of her sight. But, he did seem to be feeling better about yesterday’s events.

She paused at the entrance to the peristyle and watched Krystus. He was eating a honey cake and gazing out across the gardens, lost in thought.

Druscilla smiled and moved away from the entrance and toward Krystus. He must have heard her footsteps for he turned at her approach. “I hope I didn’t keep you too long.” she said as she waved him back to his seat. “But, it seems in the short time you’ve been here, another messenger has found you. Cicero’s man is waiting to speak with you. Would you like to see him in a private room?” she asked as she sat in the chair beside him.