She watched the ship leave the country that she had known all her life. The city and the family. But as she watched, there was only a sense of freedom for her.

She wanted to swim back to shore, but she knew it was impossible once they had left. It was best that her children weren’t around to see her, though she would have liked that one last comfort. It would have made it harder for her to leave.

She spent one last day with them, running her hand through Alfonso’s auburn hair, as he clutched her because he missed her. She was his mother, and after so long, it brought tears.

Leonora had looked to the side, allowing them the time they needed.

Now, she has come to Antigone; a foreign land and a foreign city, with barely anyone that she knew. It wasn’t her first trip, Lorenzo having brought her here years ago. But it had been a mere trip.

She had made a friend with a traveling merchant coming to the city, who offered to take her to an inn. He had been more than kind, eventually helping her get settled before he moved on. He was from Erandel and perhaps took pity on her.

It did not need many to guess that she was here alone, perhaps because of a crime. Some had stayed away from her. Others helped her out of principle.

Finally, she had bid him farewell when there was an inn that finally accepted her. The innkeeper was wary, perhaps, but she had been kind and generous.

She walked up the steps, down her own little room, through the long hallway. Below, were places for animals, such as horses, camels, that came through a long land journey. Antigone was at the end of a land route that served the whole Jusakiye, an empire that touched three continents.

The city was warmer than she ever known, previously; she wasn’t alone and hence it was an easier change.

She knew she reached her location when the smell of food and alcohol hit her.

Zariya had a single smile for her, as she gave a glance to the servers.

“You don’t have to do it.” She gave her money.

“It’s not much.” She looked. “If it’s fine, can you wait?”

There were some traders coming in. She could tell that they were from either Pannonia or Rancie if she went by how they dressed. They dressed in the tight shirts and cravats, only the diplomats could dress and emulating others.

They had come to the counter, as Fukayna looked, mostly with focus. This was a task and a tough challenge for her.

Pompeia, feeling some gratitude, could understand what they said. Thankful that they were Ranciens. At least it was a tongue that she could speak.

“What do you need to know?” She asked. “I know a few words that can help and the menu.”

They jumped on the chance, starving. The trip here had been miserable, and she barely ate. Though a lot of it was out of worry, but most was because of the almost stale food inside the ship. It wasn’t a long voyage, but she was ravenous to where she shared food with him before they left.

“How about we buy you a meal next time?” They asked.

“It’s not an issue.” She looked at them as her food came.

“Perhaps we can give you some money.” They glanced at her.

One was giving her a certain wink. Pompeia was more than familiar with it. She had been married before, and she knew that glance when she saw it. But there wasn’t a need for it yet.

She had pawned her jewels off and taken the money into it.

Zariya glanced, obviously relieved. “If you’re willing to talk to them. Perhaps we can work something out. I can continue to house you here and pay for food.”

“Would it work for you?”

“Better than spending ten minutes trying to understand them.” She looked. “I know a word or two, after spending enough time. But little else and I often dread when they come in because it takes time and my workers are even more confused than I am.”

Pompeia gave a laugh. “I can see why. It’s not an issue. I guess that is a workable arrangement for me.”

“Would you want to embroider anything?” Zariya offered.

“I think that the style would be different here.” She smiled. Besides, she had never been great at it as a child.

“Perhaps,” she said. “But you’ve been seating on the table all day long.”

She knew it too, though most of it was in contemplation. With a glass of wine or coffee by her side, she spent most of it thinking and sometimes writing with the meagre paper that she had left.

“I have very little else to do. But if you need me, I’ll be here.”

Even till late at night, with a cup of beer at her side, she had slowly sipped, but made sure that it didn’t intoxicate her. She didn’t want to test the limits of the generous innkeeper, besides; she didn’t like the feel of being tipsy.

She thought about perhaps selling her body a few times, about perhaps finding a charming man that could provide for her every need. It didn’t matter to her; she had been married; she was a widow.

She had loved and lost. But she wanted to avoid it, not when it seemed bearable.. Her life was simple, devoid of much amusements. But she didn’t need it. She preferred the time to think instead.

Life had to be simplified now. She just needed food and shelter to survive. That was all.

Besides, there was something pushing her constantly. It was spite, enough for her to abandon her material comforts, and choosing the worst option just so her children wouldn’t live in complete fear and subservience. Or to be used as pawns.

But Pompeia looked at the city she was now in, knowing that she was stuck here and few would bother to locate her. Perhaps she would make a new life for herself, but she needed time to think.