The Roman welcomed Octavia with much ceremony. He bowed to Hermione,
who threw back her veil and greeted Martius as an old friend.
While her mother explained the matter of business to her trusted
lawyer, Hermione and Martius withdrew to the other side of the room
and sat down side by side on an ivory and ebony bench in the window.
High above them was Caesar's Palace, white and glistening in the
September sunshine. Sweet scents from the imperial gardens came to
them, but sweeter yet, in its innocence and freshness was the face of
the young girl.
"Thou hast been long absent, Martius?" she said, while she twirled in
her fingers a tea-rose, large and fragrant.
"Half a year, Hermione."
"And hast never wanted to see Rome? Was it so lovely in those far-off
Eastern lands that thou couldst forget thy home and thy friends?"
"Not so. But it was not possible for me to return. My heart yearned
for Rome. There is no place like her in all the world, in the whole
Roman Empire," he said, proudly.
"Was it thy business kept thee?" Then fearing lest she might be asking
too much, Hermione blushed.
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