Nitimur in Vetitum (we strive for the forbidden)

sanguis (blood)

Ides of March in the Year of Caesar and Antonius (15th March, 44 BCE)

Lucretia was terrified, but even that may not be a strong enough word to describe her emotions in this moment. Her father's corpse was laid out before her, blood still seeping from the wounds upon his body. No words would come to her, even as Silvius placed a hand on her back and attempted to lead her away from the corpse. "No," Lucretia snapped, pushing her husband's hand off, "I will stay with him."

"Lucretia, he is gone. We must find Marcus Antonius and figure out what must be done," Silvius said in his regular shaky voice.

"No," she repeated, "go if you will, find Antonius. But I will remain by my father's side until his bones have burnt to ash and his blood has watered the roots of the earth."

"You, woman, are too stubborn for your own good," the man snapped, but he didn't argue with her again, simply turning on his heel and leaving the room.

"Why pater? why was he the man you chose? and why did you leave me alone with him?" Lucretia had spent years of her life after when it would be proper for a Roman woman to marry without a single suiter. Her father had always told Lucretia that she could pick her husband, a man she enjoyed. That was until December of the year before, when he had informed her that she was to marry Silvius Fabius Maximus, a friend of her fathers. Lucretia had been furious. Until the exact day of her wedding, she'd screamed and raged at her father. Silvius was not a very attractive man and they'd never been close.

But Lucretia was a roman woman, and roman women did what they were told. So in ianuarius of that year, they had married. Though Lucretia had refused to let him into her bed. He could try, and he had, multiple times since their wedding but Lucretia would not change her mind. She didn't care for him and she would not lose her virtue to a man she did not care for.

Now, just two months later, here she was alone and bloodied. Holding the limp hand of her murdered father.

There was no sound in the darkened house.

It was a long while before anyone entered the house. Calpurnia, her stepmother, had retreated to her chambers in tears when the body was brought in. Now she returned to the tablinum where Caesar's body lay. Three slaves followed behind her, two with buckets in hand. "Lucretia, my sweet, we must prepare the body"

Lucretia blinked, "a moment more stepmother."

Calpurnia sighed, "Nerva, place the cypress at the door." One of the slaves bowed, taking two branches in his hands and heading towards the entrance way. "Come now sweet Lucretia, we have grieved for hours. His body has cooled, we must clean it and prepare for the proper ceremonies."

Lucretia sat still for another moment, her hand laid across the cold body of her father, "yes, yes we must."

Lucretia stood and took one of the cloths from a slave who she did not recognize. She dipped the cloth into one of the buckets and pressed the water onto his bloodied arm. Calpurnia smiled and began to help, "where is the undertaker?" the older woman asked.

"From what I've heard, the streets have been cleared. No one will come here, not for him ," Lucretia whispered, it was bad form to speak loudly around the recently deceased. "Gaius Julius Caesar."

"Gaius Julius Caesar," Calpurnia repeated, and from them they fell into silence. Simply pressing soaked cloths into the bloody skin of the dictator and watching the watered blood run onto the tiled ground beneath them.

It was after dawn the next morning when they were joined by another. And soon many friends of her father's joined them in the household. Silvius had managed to find Marcus Antonius and had brought the consul to their home to plan their next move.