“I would be a weakness to you,” she said. “Without me you are able to act decisively, and you may have to, my lord. To kill and wreak havoc over a point of religion is pure madness, but it happens far too often.”
“You will be such a perfect wife for me,” he said admiringly.
“Why?” she teased him. “Because I share your passion, or because I do not complain when you must be away from me?”
“Both,” he said with a smile. “You have an inborn skill for understanding people. You know the fine line I must walk between those fanatical factions in Adrianople, and you do not distract me from my duty. Those who have opposed our marriage will soon see that they were wrong, and that Cailin Drusus is the only wife for Aspar.”
“I do not distract you?” She pretended to be offended, and mounting him suddenly, glared down into his handsome face. Her pointed little tongue snaked over her lips suggestively, slowly. Her eyes darkened with her passion, and cupping her breasts in her hands, she teased her own nipples erect. “Can I not distract you just the tiniest bit, my lord?”
He watched her through slitted eyes as she played, a faint smile upon her lips. He knew her certainty of his love was what made her bold, and it was surely to his benefit. She was so young and so very beautiful, he thought, lazily running both his flattened palms up her torso. Sometimes when he looked at her, he wondered if when he became old she would love him still, and fear gnawed at his vitals. Then she would smile at him and kiss him sweetly and, reassured, he knew she would always love him, for it was her nature to be honest and loyal. His fingers clamped about her waist and he lifted her up slightly, allowing his engorged organ to raise itself up.
“You distract me mightily, my love,” he said softly, lowering her slowly, encasing himself fully within the warm sweetness of her hot, wet sheath. Then pulling her forward almost roughly, he kissed her deeply, sensuously, his mouth soft yet firm against hers, turning her quickly over onto her back so that he now held the ascendant position. “And you are hereby sentenced to spend the remainder of your days distracting me, Cailin,” he growled lovingly in her ear as he plunged with slow deliberation in and out of her eager body. “I adore you, my love, and soon you will be mine for all eternity! My wife! My very life! The sweet, bright half of my dark, dark soul!”
“I love you, Flavius Aspar,” she told him, half sobbing, and then Cailin was lost again in the very special world he seemed to be able to weave about her now. She was warm and cold at the same time. Her heart both raced and soared with his loving. But if her place was in his heart, and in his arms, then why was she afraid? Then, her crisis overwhelming her, Cailin cried out with pleasure, and her fears were quickly forgotten in the security and the safety of his loving arms. Happily she snuggled against him and fell asleep.
When she awoke in the morning, he was already gone. Nellwyn brought her a tray with newly made yogurt, ripe apricots, and fresh bread with a little pot of honey. “Master Arcadius asks if you will pose for him today. He says he is almost finished, and can be gone by week’s end if you will but cooperate. I think he is anxious to return to Constantinople. The summer is over. He talks about the autumn games.”
“Tell him I will be there in an hour,” Cailin told her servant. “I want the statue completed, and mounted upon its pedestal in the garden before my lord returns. It will be my wedding surprise for him.”
“I never saw anything like it before,” Nellwyn admitted. “It’s so beautiful, lady. I thought only the gods were portrayed so.”
“The statue represents Venus, the old Goddess of Love,” Cailin explained. “I have simply posed in place of the goddess for Arcadius.”
Cailin ate, and then having bathed, joined the sculptor in his studio. Nellwyn in attendance, she removed her tunica and took her position. He worked for a time, his eye moving between the smaller clay statue he had originally fashioned from her pose and Cailin herself. When he saw she was growing tired, he stopped, and Cailin put on her tunica before they went to sit outside in the sunshine and drink sweet, freshly squeezed orange juice, and nibble upon sesame cakes that Zeno brought them.
“I shall miss your company,” Cailin told Arcadius. “I enjoy all your wicked gossip, and have learned much of those with whom I will have to associate when I am married to Aspar.”
“Your life will not be easy,” he answered her frankly. “Those at the court with whom you should associate will avoid you until they know you, and even when they know your true worth, some will continue to shun you, Cailin Drusus. Only those of whom you should be wary will be eager to cultivate your friendship due to the influence you have with Aspar, or because they hope to seduce you as they have so many others. Your virtue, in light of the gossip surrounding you, will truly madden them.”
“What a paradox you Byzantines are,” Cailin said. “You espouse a religion that preaches goodness, and yet there is so much evil among you. I do not really understand your people at all.”
“Our society is simple,” Arcadius told her. “The rich desire power, and more riches. These things make them feel invincible, and so they behave as other people would not dare to behave. They are crueler, and more carnal, and because their faith promises them forgiveness if they will but repent, they do so every now and then, ridding themselves of their past sins so they may go and sin some more.
“This is not unique to Byzantium alone, Cailin. All civilizations reach this apogee at some point in their development. Those less rich imitate their betters; and the poor are kept in their place by a top-heavy bureaucracy and a beneficent ruler who allows them into the games free. Bread and circuses, my dear girl, keep the poor in check, except for those rare times when plague, or famine, or war interfere with the workings of the government. When those things happen, even emperors are not safe on their thrones.” He chuckled. “I am a cynic, as you can see.”
“All I desire,” Cailin replied, “is to marry my dear lord, and if the gods will it, bear him a child. I shall live here in the country, raise my children, and be content. I want no part of Byzantium’s intrigues, Arcadius.”
“You will not be able to escape them, dear girl,” he said. “Aspar is not some unimportant noble with a country estate to which he may retire. This idyll you have been living cannot continue once you are married. You will have to accept your proper place at court as the wife of the empire’s First Patrician. Take my advice, dear girl, and do not ally yourself with any faction no matter how seductively they importune you to join them, and they will. You must remain neutral, as does Aspar. He has but one loyalty, and that is to Byzantium itself.”
“My loyalty is to Aspar,” she said quietly, but firmly.
“That is good. Ah, yes, dear girl, I can see you will not be lured by the siren’s song sung at the court. You are too sensible. Now let us return to the business of immortalizing you,” he said, chuckling. “You have an outrageously lush form for such a practical woman.”
“Tell me about these games you are so eager to return to the city for, Arcadius,” Cailin said after she had resumed her pose. “I thought there were only games in May on the day of commemoration. I did not know they were held at other times. Will there be chariot races? I did enjoy the races.”