Your support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)Titus Marius had long awaited this night, his wedding night. His bride had taken his hand in marriage earlier in the day in the house of her father, as was the custom. They had held hands in front of the priest and the dozen or so guests in the house, and an offering of cake was made to Jupiter, after which the bride and groom ate the offering. A procession was then made to Titus' house, where he had carried her over the threshold.
Titus waited alone as his bride prepared herself in her chamber. Her mother would have tied the knot of Hercules around her waist this morning, a knot that only he, as her husband, could untie. Everything had fallen nicely into place. The day of the wedding had been chosen well in advance so as not to coincide with any ill omens. Now he only had minutes to wait before he had the right to deflower his bride.
Titus Marius was a respected young man in the community, a distant cousin of Octavius Caesar himself. Of desirable birth and background, he was the youngest member of the legislative body, the Comitia Centuriata. His legal wit and comprehension had long been appreciated by its members, and although his status as a member of Caesar's household had given him a foothold in politics, it was his intelligence, confidence, and even arrogance at times, which had allowed him to advance. He was an impressive man in stature as well, standing just over six feet tall, with a solidly built physique. He had been trained as a young man in all the traditional battle disciplines and techniques, and practiced at them several times a week with other patricians and plebeians, keeping himself in good shape. His brown hair was cut short, and combed straight down over his forehead. He sighed at he sat on his finest chair, hoping only that she would emerge shortly.
Titus waited alone as his bride prepared herself in her chamber. Her mother would have tied the knot of Hercules around her waist this morning, a knot that only he, as her husband, could untie. Everything had fallen nicely into place. The day of the wedding had been chosen well in advance so as not to coincide with any ill omens. Now he only had minutes to wait before he had the right to deflower his bride.
Titus Marius was a respected young man in the community, a distant cousin of Octavius Caesar himself. Of desirable birth and background, he was the youngest member of the legislative body, the Comitia Centuriata. His legal wit and comprehension had long been appreciated by its members, and although his status as a member of Caesar's household had given him a foothold in politics, it was his intelligence, confidence, and even arrogance at times, which had allowed him to advance. He was an impressive man in stature as well, standing just over six feet tall, with a solidly built physique. He had been trained as a young man in all the traditional battle disciplines and techniques, and practiced at them several times a week with other patricians and plebeians, keeping himself in good shape. His brown hair was cut short, and combed straight down over his forehead. He sighed at he sat on his finest chair, hoping only that she would emerge shortly.