A Stray Drop of Blood (A Stray Drop of Blood #1)

The others nodded of one accord, and Abigail let out a sigh of defeat.

“I need to get back to the kitchen.” Dinah smiled at her, then she and Simon left.

“And we must set off for the Praetorium.” Cleopas motioned Andrew to precede him from the room.

“I believe I shall send a note to Julia asking them to join us here,” Ester declared gaily.

“And I,” Jason said, sitting beside Abigail and taking her hand when his mother exited, “shall stay right here and make sure you rest.” He smoothed a few strands of hair away from her face.

“It is your day off.”

“So it is.” He gave her a tender smile.

Abigail sent him a reproving look. “Do you not have plans with your friends?”

“They will not miss me.” Sliding down beside her, he pressed his lips to her temple. “Rest now, beloved. When you awake, I will bring you some food. What would you like?”

She gave a half-hearted push at his chest. “I would like you to remember that you are the master and should not start waiting on your slaves.”

Jason grinned and captured her hands. “And I would like my slave to remember that I am the master and shall do as I will. And I will to spend my free day making sure she rests.”

Too tired to resist the comfort he offered, she let it wash away some of the fear and slid into sleep.





*





Jason put in his night shift without much enthusiasm. He ran into Titus, who asked outright where he had been that day and frowned at the answer. Menelaus and Apidius dropped in just to say hello shortly after dark, and they, too, seemed rather put out that he had chosen to spend the day with his mother instead of them.

“It is the girl.” Menelaus shot him an accusatory glare.

Jason sighed. “She was ill.”

“She is pregnant,” Titus retorted, “of course she was ill. That is no reason to coddle her.”

“They are merely concerned for you.” Apidius spoke in his customary soft tone, but his eyes offered no sympathy. “Your involvement with the slave keeps growing, Jason, and it is not healthy.”

“It is unhealthy to be concerned for the welfare of my child?” Jason brushed past them all to continue his circuit around the wall. “How novel.”

Menelaus jogged to catch up with him. “You should not get attached to this child, though. It will be a slave like its mother. You will marry someday and have legitimate children to carry on your name. This one will not be one of them. Prepare yourself for that.”

“Why?” Jason stopped in front of a dozing soldier. He ought to make note of it, but instead he just delivered a sound thump to his helmet. It sufficed. “The divine Tiberius was not the legitimate son of Augustus, and he is emperor. Brutus is rumored to have been the son of Julius. Why can I not recognize my child as my child?”

When the soldier rose to his feet, Titus shoved him back down so he could step past.“You are not an emperor. You cannot make your own rules.”

“Jason, listen to yourself,” Apidius pleaded. “You lobby for an illegitimate child born by a slave whom you have yourself admitted is unworthy of your promise. If you favor her child, she will claim rights over you.”

Jason stared at his three friends, realizing at once that they were right and they were wrong. Realizing that Abigail already held those claims, even if she never used them. Realizing that his parents’ convictions were rooted more deeply in him than he had realized. He could simply not look at it all as his friends did, without any involvement. He could no longer focus on a distant ambition when there was a tangible promise in his hands.

What could Rome give him? What could politics do for his soul? Perhaps his father had been right. A boy had the right to leave home and find his way in the world, but a man . . . a man had to focus on deeper matters. Family. Faith.

He turned to his friends, lifted a hand. “I do not need you following me on my rounds, pushing around my men. If you have anything more to say, say it to each other. I have my duties.”

By the time dawn had arrived, his mind had mulled over the situation until it spun. He strode home in a sour temper, ate quickly in the kitchen without waiting for his parents, and went to bed. Abigail was still sleeping when he climbed in, and the very sight of her brought a sigh to his lips. As he put his arms around her warm body and drew her close, he forgot all about the problems. They did not matter. She was his to hold, and that did.





*





Abigail arose late, surprised she had managed to get so many solid hours of sleep. She moved quietly so as not to disturb Jason, slipping into her garment and noting that soon she would need something looser to hide her stomach. She left the bedchamber silently and went to find Ester.

She was reading in her room and smiled when Abigail entered. “You are looking better. How do you feel?”

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