Love, Eternally

chapter 9




Gigi gazed from the balcony to the garden below. Nervous, she watched torches blazing in the dark, illuminating scores of people hurrying to and fro. The commotion had started the day before, just hours after she’d arrived at Placidia’s villa.

She tried to figure out what was happening, but nothing made sense and no one would talk to her. She hadn’t seen Placidia since their meeting, and it was obvious the princess planned to escape. Gigi couldn’t shake the feeling that she was to blame. Had she compromised Placidia’s safety by coming here?

She’ll take me with her, won’t she?

A shiver rippled down her spine as she slipped past the curtain and back inside the room given to her. Grabbing her palla, she wrapped herself in it, forcing herself to remain calm.

The oil lamp by the bed flickered low, and she realized she would need more oil soon. Did she dare ask someone? Gigi shook her head, deciding she should wait. Only a few of Placidia’s servants knew she was here. The woman who brought her meals, Persis, was due soon. Gigi would ask then.

Sitting on the couch, Gigi watched the door, restless, hungry, and scared, trying not to panic. She felt for her mesh bag and took out the Roman ring. Sighing, she rubbed the carving of Victoria with her thumb. Three months in Ravenna — three whole months — and still she had no answers about how she’d gotten here, or any clue as to the ring’s equally bizarre journey.

First Grand-père’s, now hers, yet it actually belonged to Magnus. Was it a coincidence that the ring had come to her after 1,600 years, or that once she had it she’d traveled through time to meet its original owner?

She couldn’t imagine what had happened or why. She touched the ring again and then tucked it away in her bag. She wished she had Magnus to confide in, but even if he were here, she wouldn’t dare. She couldn’t risk it.

The light flickered out and Gigi started, her jumpiness a reflection of her sorry state of mind. She took a deep breath, then another, staring at shadows, the deepening night. The symbolism seemed so fitting, because she was in the dark. Nothing made sense. Nothing at all.

Someone tapped on the door, then pushed it open. Persis? Food. Only now, she wasn’t the least bit hungry.

A man cleared his throat, and Gigi’s stomach twisted. A dark figure loomed in the doorway, backlit by the hall’s candlelight.

“Gigi, are you asleep — ?”

“Magnus!” she cried as she leapt up.

“I came as quickly as I could.”

Overjoyed to hear his voice, Gigi swept aside all caution and ran across the room, flinging herself into his outstretched arms. “Thank you for Placidia. Thank you. Oh, I’m so glad you’re back!” She could feel his heart pounding as they clung to one another. His scent was just as she remembered: incense and wine, exotic, intoxicating. “I missed you so much.”

“And I, you … ”

He didn’t even finish his sentence before his mouth lowered to hers. His kiss began tenderly, then deepened, her lips yielding to him, hot waves rippling to her core. The world dissolved, reality swept away. Wrapped in his arms, she knew only him, her heart hammering back to his in longing.

“Gigi,” he groaned her name, and she was brought back, her blood rushing wild with the risks they were taking, the danger of being found out. She was his without question, and, from the power of his kiss, she knew he was equally at her mercy.

“Gigi, look at me.” His gaze was hidden by shadow, dark depths within his face. “I thought I had lost you,” he said gruffly.

“You will never lose me.”

His arms tightened in response and she could feel every inch of him, hard with intention. She kissed his neck, tasting the salt of his skin, and then reached to touch him. Her desires raged, each vying for fulfillment. She wanted him physically, certainly, but she also had a deep need for tenderness, and she yearned to recall what it was like to trust a man so much she could abandon caution and care.

“Magnus,” she whispered, caressing him, wanting him naked, “make love to me.”

Devouring her with kisses, he took her by the wrists and pressed her against the wall. His breath was warm as his lips roamed over her throat and she shivered with pleasure. She closed her eyes, feeling the iron strength in his arms. He kissed her again, pressing his length against her. Her body molded to his, desire pulsing between her legs.

“Take me to bed. We’ve waited long enough.”

Magnus paused. “No,” he said reluctantly, then swore under his breath and drew back, forcing a separation between them. “We cannot. I forget myself. The princess … she will be here shortly.”

Even as he spoke, Gigi could hear the conversation of women drifting in from down the hall, a bubbly chatter. Magnus let go of her just as Placidia entered.

The princess took in the scene without comment. Elpidia and Persis followed closely behind with food, drink, and several oil lamps.

If Placidia was surprised to find them alone in the dark, she didn’t let on. Pulse racing, Gigi glanced at Magnus, who gave the outward appearance of calm. His gaze held hers for a moment, then fell to her lips, and she saw him draw a deep breath. She felt as if she were floating, still tingling with the memory of his embrace.

“Good evening,” Placidia said evenly.

Gigi remembered to curtsy and Magnus bowed, hand over his heart.

The attendants set down their trays of food and positioned the lamps, then stole away, leaving the chamber glowing with a soft, warm light. Gigi noticed they’d turned down the covers on the bed.

The princess cleared her throat. “I hope all is well, Gigi, and that my people are seeing to your needs.”

Gigi fought a smile and studiously avoided looking at Magnus. “Indeed, my lady. I am forever in your debt.” She hesitated. “I couldn’t help but notice the activity outside. Are you leaving?”

Nodding, Placidia’s gaze grew sober as she exchanged a look with Magnus. “The situation with my brother has become untenable, even before his aggression against you, Gigi. You deserve to know what is happening, for it involves you, too, seeing how Magnus has intertwined our destinies.” She smiled at him. “I spoke with Honorius’s ministers, but he will not see reason and insists I marry. I resist at my peril. He would have me wed to that, that,” she took a deep breath, “to General Constantius, within the fortnight. As a royal princess, I realize certain duties and sacrifices are expected of me, but I … ” Placidia paused, holding her head high, her body unmoving, yet her eyes blazed. “I have acquiesced to his choice of a husband.”

“By the gods, no — ”

“Magnus, please hear me out,” Placidia said, raising her hand to silence him. “I did not give in to his proposed date. My brother isn’t the only one with a talent for deceit. You see, I insisted the wedding cannot take place before next spring, for a royal bride needs time to prepare. Also, I explained to his ministers that it would be unseemly to rush into anything. People would talk. Furthermore, I told them Alaric’s advance has terrified me, and I wish to depart for Rome immediately, to stay behind the city’s walls until the Visigoth king is defeated.” Her smile was bleak. “I also reminded them my brother would need Constantius’s undivided attention in dealing with the Visigoths, at least until next spring, suggesting that if we were married now, well … ”

Placidia’s face grew red, and she frowned, clearly annoyed with herself. Gigi watched her carefully, sensing her bravery, her untapped reserve of courage.

“I shall not dwell on such unpleasantness, except to say Honorius has granted my request,” Placidia went on. “I plan to tarry in Rome a while — having gowns made, perhaps adding to my jewels — so as to persuade my brother I am sincere, but then I don’t know what I’ll do. However, for now, we must turn our thoughts to Gigi’s safety.”

“But I can go with you, can’t I?” Gigi asked.

Placidia’s smile was genuine. “Perhaps, if we can find a way to smuggle you out, for my caravan will be enormous. But once we are well away, I think it safest if you split off and go elsewhere. Magnus and I shall think of a good hiding spot for you, beyond the reach of my brother. Then, with God’s help, we will someday meet again.” She turned to Magnus. “I’ll await you in my study.”

He bowed. “I will be but a moment, Placidia.”

“Good. Worry not. Magnus and I shall find a solution.” The princess nodded to Gigi and took her leave.

Gigi stared at the closed door. She wasn’t going to Rome with Placidia. She couldn’t stay here. What then? She looked at Magnus, hesitant, wanting to hold him, wanting another kiss, wanting his protective arms around her, wanting …

“Magnus, don’t go. Not yet.”

“I cannot stay.” He took her hands and raised them for a kiss. “How did you get these injuries?”

“It’s nothing. I had to slide down a pine tree to escape Honorius.”

Magnus shook his head and kissed each palm. “You will be safe now, wherever you go. I will make certain of it.”

She leaned against him, resting her cheek on his chest. “But what about you? Will you be safe?”

“Ah, I am never safe, but for the moment I would guess I’m still more valuable to Honorius alive.”

“Please be careful.”

Magnus’s lips grazed her cheek. “I shall do my utmost, and you must promise me, also, to take care.”

“I promise, Magnus,” she said, her arms twining about him, wanting to give him a reason to cherish this night. “Come back when Placidia is done with you. Stay with me.”

Magnus bent to kiss her again, and Gigi felt his hand touch and linger on the small of her back, then sweep down. The softness of his caress beguiled, stirring her depths.

“Blast the Fates,” he said, drawing apart from her. “I must go. Would that I could stay with you, my sweet, but Honorius watches my every move, and he would grow curious if I stayed too long … would see me dead should I spend the night at his sister’s home. I will return in the morning before you depart.”

He looked into her eyes and then glanced over her shoulder, and she knew he was staring at the bed.

Magnus shook his head. “I dare not kiss you again, Gigi, I dare not.”

Their eyes met and he held her with his gaze, so intense and devastatingly blue. A pang of pure pleasure shot through her. Gigi opened her mouth to speak, to plead for another kiss, but he broke his gaze and bowed.

“Vale,” he said gruffly, clearly at war with himself. With that he was gone, the door shutting behind him.

Her mind was in upheaval, her body trembling, hot with desire. Another moment passed, and she moved to the balcony, seeking cooler air. Gazing at the night sky, Gigi tried to think about what lay ahead, but she didn’t care, didn’t want to think about anything. Anything but Magnus.

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She felt him kissing her once more, holding her, his raw physical strength imposing, captivating. Her feelings for him were more than a transient need, not something just anyone might fulfill. No, she wanted Magnus with her whole being.

When at last she looked up, her eyes welled, the stars blurring, wheeling, as if her heart’s turmoil were reflected in the sky. How could she risk falling in love with him? Only yesterday, she’d wanted to go back home. If she had gotten inside the baptistery, she would have played her flute and then, if it had worked … no, she couldn’t let herself think about that anymore.

She stirred. The stars were clearer now and so bright. She loved him. He was her world.

But did he love her? Remembering the feel of his body, his heartfelt words, she smiled, knowing he did.

• • •

The moon and stars.

Placidia let her gaze wander, seeking comfort in the glorious gold-and-blue mosaics of her ceiling. Hers, indeed, for she had designed it all, down to the very last shimmer of gold. She felt a sudden apprehension as she tried to take it in, to make a lasting memory of this, her favorite room, her sanctuary.

Would she ever return?

She rubbed her eyes, feeling tired, yet she knew she could not rest, for she had to formulate a plan with Magnus. They had to help Gigi. Placidia knew Magnus worshiped her, could read it in his eyes, and she wanted to assist them both.

If she could not hope to marry for love, then she would see them happy, at the least. And someday, when the Visigoths were vanquished and her brother’s mind was captivated by other play, she would make certain those two found each other again.

A knock on the door brought her around. She turned and smiled as Magnus strode toward her.

“Capreae,” he said, excitedly. “I thought of the solution just now in the corridor. My family has a villa there. Gigi will be safe.”

Placidia smiled at Magnus’s reasoning. He knew Honorius almost as well as she did. Her brother would not think of looking there, for he loathed that fair isle, ever since …

She trembled at the remembrance. During a childhood visit, Honorius was horribly stung by a swarm of bees — and swelled up like the odious toad he still was. Indeed, indeed! Once Honorius hated something, he was either consumed by it or forced it from his mind. And Capreae had been banished from his thoughts long, long ago.

“We shall send her to Vada Sabatia,” Placidia said, nodding to Magnus, “then she shall travel south by ship. Capreae is the perfect spot — my brother will not search for Gigi there. He surely won’t.”

She glanced back at her ceiling, the blue tiles the same shade as the famed grotto of Capreae.

She prayed God it was a sign.

• • •

Everything was in an uproar. Gigi hadn’t slept all night, listening to the preparations for departure, thinking about Magnus, and worrying about her future. Now, as light crept into the eastern sky, the commotion was finally dying down. It was nearly time for Placidia’s caravan to head out, and Gigi was ready to go, too.

She glanced at two small satchels resting near the door. All her worldly possessions were inside, augmented somewhat by items Placidia had given her: several sets of undergarments, which resembled bikinis, an extra pair of sandals, a heavy palla, and some toiletry items, plus a small pouch filled with gold and silver coins.

Giving in to her raw nerves, Gigi checked again to make sure her flute was safely hidden. Fine. It was fine. After everything, she didn’t want to take the chance of its being damaged. She felt for the mesh bag at her waist. Yes, the ring was secure, too.

Satisfied, she examined herself in the polished bronze mirror and tried again to assess her costume, but the reflection was too distorted to tell her much. This mirror makes me look like a peeled potato!

Persis had arrived early that morning with Gigi’s disguise: a white dress and lustrous, chestnut-brown wig. The wig wasn’t a costume store joke, either; the hair was real and thick, the wavy tresses falling to Gigi’s mid-back. Even with the bad mirror, she could tell it really changed her looks.

Adjusting the padding added to her hips and belly, Gigi tried to improve the undulating image, to no avail. “I must look awful.” She smiled to herself, crossing her fingers. “And in that case, this just might work.”

A knock sounded at the door, and Persis came in with a veil to complete Gigi’s outfit. “They are expecting you at the front door in a few moments. Your disguise is wonderful, beyond my hopes.”

“Are you sure?”

“It is perfect! You’ll be well hidden — in plain sight of everyone.”

“But what am I supposed to be? It’s so white. I look like a fat bride.”

“Heavens, no! A bride would never wear anything this austere. You are dressed as a priestess of the Ancient Ones, of course. Bend down, for I must settle your veil properly about your head, or people will stare.” Persis shrouded Gigi’s wig. “There, now your guise is complete.”

“All right.” Gigi heaved a sigh. “I don’t want to keep Placidia waiting, and I’d like to say goodbye to Magnus. Is he with her?”

Shaking her head, Persis giggled. “Actually, you have company waiting in the hall. Magnus!”

As if on cue, there was a tap at the door. Magnus came in, gleaming in his white senator’s toga. Persis scurried out as Gigi stared at him, smiling. A vivid recollection of the prior evening’s passions crowded into her head. He was so good-looking, so … there.

His eyes took her in from head to toe. “Ye gods, I could have passed you in the street — reverently, to be sure — but without guessing who you were.”

She turned slowly, giving him a chance to assess all angles.

He grinned. “You look authentic and very different.”

“Good. The padding was Placidia’s idea.”

“The added, er, breadth truly does make you appear shorter.”

“So, you’re saying my butt looks big in this dress?”

He laughed and took her hand, drawing her to him. “I would never disparage the figure of a priestess, and to kiss one is a great violation, but seeing as you are a fraud, it is a violation I am willing to make.”

His lips brushed across her cheek, before finding her mouth, his arms enveloping her. His kiss was deep, sending waves, a storm of desire, crashing through her.

Soon, too soon, he pulled back, his eyes smoldering. He pushed strands of wig hair away from her face. “You are beautiful.”

“Then you’ve gone blind since yesterday,” she whispered, rising up on her toes. “Kiss me again.”

“In a moment,” he smiled, “but first I must tell you of the arrangements we’ve made and why you are dressed as you are. Please, this is important, Gigi.”

Her face felt hot as they drew apart, and she cautioned herself to listen — her life depended on what he was about to say. “Persis said I’m dressed as a priestess of the Ancient Ones.”

“True, but there is a reason beyond a simple disguise,” Magnus said. “Most importantly, as a priestess your person will be inviolate, and additionally this should work because it is blasphemy to impersonate the holy. However, considering your situation, I think the gods will forgive you this once. You must keep the disguise on at all times. You will have an escort near your coach while you travel with Placidia, but don’t expect to engage him — or anyone, for that matter — in conversation, for it could attract unwanted attention.”

“I understand.”

Magnus nodded. “His name is Rufus. He is a pagan, and once the two of you leave the caravan, he will be able to give you some instruction on how to behave should anyone challenge you. Your cover is simple and fitting. You are pilgrims, traveling to worship at an ancient oak grove on the island of Corsica. It is a venerated place and still frequented by the faithful, so the story won’t raise any eyebrows. When it is time to leave Placidia’s company, Rufus will guide you west to the port of Vada Sabatia and then arrange for passage,” he lowered his voice, “to Capreae.”

“Capri? Oh, that’s a wonderful idea!” Gigi exclaimed, then blurted out, “Will you meet me there?”

“No.” He hesitated. “No, but you will be with members of my family. They own a villa on the island, and you will be safe with them.”

Gigi frowned. “No? Then when … when will I see you again? In Rome? Am I going to Rome after that?”

“No.” Magnus touched her wig, playing with one of the dark curls. “You cannot risk going to Rome. Ever. Honorius will be watching. As for when we will see each other again, I cannot say. For good or ill, I am the emperor’s man and must abide by his decisions and direction. With Alaric causing trouble, it could be months or perhaps far longer, if the Fates are unkind.”

“But, but you will come to Capri eventually,” her words tumbled out, “because I’ll wait, Magnus, I don’t care how long it takes, I’ll wait for you.”

He looked intently at her for several seconds. “You care for me that much?”

“Of course I do!”

“Then wait for me,” he said, still staring into her eyes. “I am often called to Rome to attend meetings in the Senate. I will find a way to come to Capreae afterward.” His voice grew thick. “I will find a way.”

He wrapped her in his arms, his lips finding hers once more. Hot tears spilled down her cheeks, a match to the heat, the yearning she felt inside. The kiss went on and on, a powerful, lingering kiss, and she abandoned herself to the moment. Feeling the fevered beat of his heart, his body ready, she willingly opened herself and begged for more.

He moaned, eager to comply. His lips roamed on, taking a slow, seductive journey from her throat to the top of her breasts. “You are so beautiful, Gigi, so soft,” he pulled on the drawstring at her neckline, “so captivating.” His tongue explored a nipple before he took it in his mouth, “So … ”

Heat tore through her body, seared her skin, wherever his lips touched her. She was only vaguely aware when someone tapped on the door.

“Ignore them,” Gigi begged. “I want you.”

Another tap. “Time.” It was Persis.

Magnus pressed hard against Gigi, then relaxed, his kisses stilled. “Damn meddling servants.”

Gigi sighed.

“Senator, please,” Persis spoke louder this time. “The princess has asked that Gigi be escorted to her wagon right away. It is time!”

“It would seem so,” Magnus answered in frustration as he pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against Gigi’s. “Alas, my sweet,” he said with resignation, “I must go.”

She looked into his eyes, and her heart skipped at the intensity of his gaze.

With a tender kiss, he helped straighten her gown. “What have you done to me, Gigi? What is this power you wield over my heart? Once I cared for nothing but war, the Empire, but now … ” He touched her face. “Wait for me in Capreae. I’ll get to you somehow. I’ll find an excuse or create one. I promise I shall come to you, when I am able.”

“Soon,” Gigi said, “please, come soon.”

“Upon my life, I will.” He closed his eyes for a moment, then glanced at the door. “We must go. Placidia is waiting for you, and Honorius’s watchers are waiting for me.”

“Magnus, I wish … ”

“Do not wish, but pray, pray the gods are kind.” He hesitated. “I would ask one favor, my Gigi, just one.”

“Anything,” she said earnestly.

“I would request a lock of your golden hair, to keep against my body so I may touch you, have you with me, every moment of every day, until we meet again.”

She was unprepared for the profound effect his words had on her, the depth of his feelings. Trembling, she removed her veil and wig. Magnus drew forth a dagger and cut the strands of hair, then carefully tucked them away in a pouch, and sheathed his knife.

He smiled, but his gaze showed worry. “You are favored by the gods, truly. May they protect you on your journey.” He placed a final kiss on her hand. “Vale, sweet one.” Releasing her, he opened the door and left.

Badly shaken, Gigi touched her hair as despair swept over her. Would she ever see Magnus again? She straightened, then tried to fix her wig, but gave herself up to her misery instead. Then Persis was beside her, replacing the wig, the veil, wiping her tears, and coaxing her toward the door.

“Come, sister.” Persis’s voice was quiet. “We must leave.”

“Vade in pace, Magnus,” was all Gigi could say. “Vade in pace.”