I Shall Rewrite the Stars
Chapter 32
***
Words fail me as two lifetimes’ worth of fear leave me breathless.
This is the man who scattered my family and pillaged my homeland.
This is the man who gave orders to execute my brothers and deny my sister a healer.
This is the man who forced juba to wed another right before my eyes.
“Know your place,” Juba hisses, forcing my head to bow.
“F…forgive me,” I whisper, dropping to my knees. “Forgive me, Emperor.”
“Oh?” Gustavian asks.
“This one was taught quite the lesson about humility,” Agrippa laughs. “She’s not given me an inch of trouble! So please, do be merciful when deciding what to do with her, Majesty.”
“A daughter of Kemet who knows how to properly appeal to her betters? And well enough so that you, of all men, will speak on her behalf?” Gustavian drops my hand, sliding a ruby-encrusted, golden sandal into the space between my arms. “What would she do, I wonder, if I-”
“Selene!” Ptolemy gasps, as I set my forehead against his toes.
In my visions, I was entirely unprepared for the first time Gustavian did this. Neither Mother nor Father ever demanded another kneel at their feet, thus I’d no idea what this monster was awaiting…and I suffered greatly for it.
How ever de-humanizing, this will earn me favor, I remind myself. Favor will keep me alive.
“What a sight,” Gustavian whispers, pulling his foot back. “Tell me—Selene, was it? If I offer a single gift for your obedience, what will you ask of me?”
“How could I dare believe myself in a position to ask anything?” I reply.
He huffs a short laugh. “How clever. I will hear anything you might imagine, without reserve.”
I bite my tongue. As emperor, Gustavian owes his word to no one. He will spew promises and revoke them just as fast. But…
I glance toward Ptolemy, who cowers half-hidden behind Juba’s leg. The vision of her fated future flashes across my mind. I see her small, skeletal body lying beneath a thin sheet. I see the guards come to take her away. I hear Juba finally tell me what they’d done to her—that they’d thrown her corpse at Gustavian’s feet before tossing her remains into the sea-
“Spare my sister,” I beg. “She is young and foolish, but she can and will learn to be whatever you desire. Please, allow her time and the chance to prove as such.”
“I could have your head with the snap of my fingers, and yet you plead for a useless snips life?”
“She seems to fear more for the fate of a bumbling child, than herself,” Agrippa notes flippantly.
Gustavian looks over my head. “Juba, did you happen to train this chit for me?”
“I breathed not a word of where I was from, nor to where I’d attempted to lead her, Your Majesty,” Juba says, his voice void of emotion. “She’s been like this since we met. I can claim no influence over her docile nature.”
“It must have been instilled by that traitorous swine, Antonius,” Agrippa laughs. “Never could he have known, that such lessons would aid his precious bastard in serving his true liege!”
“Bastard?” I whisper, forcing my teeth to clench and my body to tense.
“Speak only when spoken to,” Juba snaps, shoving my head lower. “You’ve been complimented more than enough. It seems to have gone to your head.”
“Patience, Juba,” Gustavian chuckles. “She can’t be expected to perform her new role perfectly. Be gentle.”
“As you wish, Your Majesty.”
“What shall we do now?” Agrippa asks. “Will you grant the girls wish and spare her sister?”
“Lift the younger girls chin,” Gustavian commands.
I freeze, silently praying that Ptolemy will have even the sense to keep her mouth sh-
“Oh,” she gasps. “Stop it—let go of me!”
“There’s the fire I was expecting,” Gustavian purrs. “Bring her forward.”
With two steps, Agrippa throws Ptolemy down at my side. She cries out as her injured arm strikes the edge of the boat. Tears welling in her eyes, she looks at me with an expression of anguish.
“Selene, do something,” Ptolemy weeps.
“Please, spare my sister,” I beg again. “I will do anything-”
“Regardless, you’ll do anything,” Juba says. “You are both now the property of the emperor. That he’s wasted any time on you here, is a kindness that you are neither owed nor deserve.”
“But what pleasure is there to be had in tormenting a child? Ptolemy has no path to the throne, no allies. She hasn’t even the wit to know when to bite her tongue. There is nothing to gain from harming her!”
“A blood-heir will always be a threat, so long as they draw breath,” Agrippa says, and Gustavian crosses his arms over his chest.
“Exactly,” he says. “You are equally worthless, but your brothers will surely come for you, regardless. Until then, it will benefit me to keep you both alive.”
With a flick of his hand, Ptolemy is drug onto the pier. She thrashes, her feet kicking out and about. All the while, Gustavian laughs.
“So very amusing. Send this one to my harem.”
“No!” I cry, ignoring Juba’s command to keep quiet. Forcing my head up, I watch as Ptolemy is carried over the shoulder of a large, tanned man, to a waiting chariot of silver. “Wait—please!”
“Do you envy her?” Agrippa asks, kneeling beside me. Setting his arm across my shoulders he brings his lips to my ear. “If you wish for your sister to survive, accept this mercy with gratitude.”
“Mercy? She’s a child—even by Roma’s standards she’s just a girl!”
“There is no age which pardons one from my desires,” Gustavian says sweetly, smiling when I look up at him. “Know this: consorts have come from the harem before. After some proper training, perhaps your sister might be blessed with the honor of baring me a son. I’ll consider naming her my empress, if such were to occur.”
“Please reconsider,” I beg. “Ptolemy is unfit. She’s-”
“A filthy bastard from Kemet, still young enough to be properly educated as a Romasian.”
“A fine point,” Agrippa beams. “Wash every last inch of Kemet from her soul, and the girl might just become a lady capable of earning repentance for her father’s crimes.”
“Exactly so.” Raising his hand, Gustavian gives a flick. “Go.”
“Selene!” Ptolemy cries over the whip of reins.
“Ptolemy!” I shout, my heart sinking as a puff of dust kicks up at the chariots back, whirling in its wake. Within seconds, Ptolemy’s cries fade, vanished beneath the echo of hooves on stone and the laughter of the men around me.
“Now, what to do with you,” Gustavian sighs.
“You could gift her to me,” Agrippa offers, tugging me against his chest. “I’ve developed a fondness for her, you see.”
“Such an honor seems too great.” Looking up, Gustavian’s lips widen into a cruel grin. “Juba, you shall take custody of this useless fool.”
“Me?” Juba asks, dropping so fast it rattles the boat. “I’m not fit to take claim of another, Your Majesty.”
“You’ve served me well over the years, and at twenty-one, you’re more than old enough to manage a slave or two.”
“You compliment me beyond my worth.”
“Oh? What might you suggest, then?”
Juba is quiet a moment, and I cannot imagine what must be going through his head. We’d discussed what might happen if fate deviated drastically from what I’d foreseen, but never could we have predicted all this!
“So long as you keep her sister close, she’ll fret for the girl’s safety night and day,” Juba says.
“And?”
“I believe that Selene might also be worth educating. She may never rise beyond her current station, but she could learn to become a loyal servant, if given into the care of a proper master.”
“Lady Octavia might be well-suited,” Agrippa suggests. “I’m sure she’d enjoy breaking in a spawn of Antonius’ betrayal.”
“Perhaps, though I’d rather see her paraded as the pet of a mere slave,” Gustavian says. “What quicker way to settle the chit into her new life, than for her every waking moment to be spent bowing to whims of a man without worth?”
“If it pleases you, Your Majesty, might I make a new suggestion?” Juba asks. “I would accept her custody with gratitude, but I fear Lord Antyllus will lay claim to her, once he hears of her arrival in Vaticana. Such is his right, as her eldest brother-”
“Brother?” I ask, trying to focus; to bury my fear for Ptolemy. “I have only two brothers-”
“And one more in this empire,” Agrippa says. “Did you not know that your dear father was wedded before he betrayed us? That he threw away the hand of our precious Lady Octavia, for that devilish vixen you called Mother?”
“Father was a son of Kemet-”
“He was first a son of Roma.”
I shake my head. “No, that…that’s impossible!”
“You believe my general a liar?” Gustavian asks, turning. “Inform Antyllus that I’m installing you in his household, Juba. He may make whatever claim he likes, as is his right. However, it would be in bad taste to rip a toy from my dog’s mouth. You will remind him as such.”
“As you wish, Your Majesty,” Juba says.
“Such a shame,” Agrippa sighs, pulling me up with him. “I’d have broken you into your new life with the utmost attentiveness. Now you’ll slave under a mere mutt. Forgive me for being unable to persuade His Majesty, Selene.”
Before I can say anything, Agrippa tosses me into Juba’s arms. “Be thorough. The next time we meet, if I find Selene lacking, I will be sure to teach her a lesson, myself.”
“As you wish, Lieutenant General,” Juba says, his fingers trembling.
“We shall return to the palace!” Gustavian declares. “Come, Agrippa. Let us celebrate your homecoming properly.”
“Booze and women!” Agrippa bellows, hopping onto the dock. “A feast to make the great spirits drool!”
Gustavian laughs. “And not an expense spared in toasting our triumph, my friend. Down to the smallest detail, not an expense shall be spared!”
“Move,” Juba whispers, helping me from the boat. He follows swiftly, holding us still until the snap of whips, the galloping of hooves, the laughter of demons in human flesh, and the swish of oars in water have all vanished.
“Juba,” I breathe, trusting that we are in the clear. “Juba…”
“Did I make a mistake?” he asks, taking my wrist gently in his hand and pulling forward. “You said that Antyllus can be trusted.”
“In my visions he could, but now…what am I to think now? Nothing has gone as it did in my visions—I’ve no idea what shall occur next!”
“Breathe, and maintain your calm.” Squeezing my hand, Juba offers me a small, quick smile. “And forgive me for every insult you’ll endure, due to the cursed title Gustavian’s just bestowed upon you. I despise it, but maybe this will work to our advantage.”
“Because I’ve no question of my safety with you?”
“Exactly.”
I take in a deep breath. “Do not hate yourself when I must address you as Master, Juba.”
“I will hate every second of this madness, until we’ve found a means to end it,” he says, leading me toward a high arch of marble bricks. Beyond it, the shadowed streets of a waking city spread forth.
“Forgive me,” I say. “Forgive me for the suffering that you will endure alongside me.”
“I’ve given it a thought, you know, and decided that love must not be as kind as some have claimed. For all the good that you have gifted, I now face a bad I would never have known, had you not chosen to love me.”
“I-”
“But I accept this bad as willingly as I accept your love; as I accept the love I have for you, in return. So for now we shall both hurt, and we shall both love, and we shall both endure. So please, keep faith in us, Selene. This life will not end as the first one did.”
Cautious of the eyes that might be watching us, I feign tripping over a loose cobblestone, and press my cheek against Juba’s back. For just a moment, he pauses, allowing us the closest we can have to an embrace.
“You were fated to be my refuge,” I whisper against the trailing end of his scarf. “This time, allow me to be yours, too. And know that I will never lose faith in us Juba. I merely wish with all I am, that I could spare you any grief.”
“You’re the only light I see in this miserable, glimmering wasteland,” Juba replies. “Your every breath is the hymn of my refuge; your every heartbeat the anthem of my freedom from Gustavian’s control.”
“You flatter me.”
“I love you, am devoted to you, and will do whatever it takes to free us from these chains. And when I do, I will love you far more than before.” He glances back, continuing softer, “You showed me a life beyond what we face. When we return to that life, promise that you will remain by my side.”
“No matter what is to come, I will only ever have a future next to you, or else none at all,” I swear.
Juba smiles, facing forward. “Then let us be off.”
I nod, following a pace behind. Under the stone arch, into the shadows, I walk toward the greatest fight of this life.
***
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