The October Horse

Paullus arrived at the villa the troops had appropriated from a local merchant and promptly fell asleep on the luxurious bed. He slept for hours, the soreness and excitement of the day lost in the sheets and mattress so much more comfortable than the one he had been living on the last decade. He woke up hours later, groggy and carelessly wrapped in his expensive toga, and found a plate and bowl full of fruit, meat, and bread. He ate greedily, unused to the richness of the simple food, and desperately hungry after so much exertion. He guzzled the water left with it, removed the majority of the clothes he wore, and got back into the comfy bed. The sun was starting to go down and swaddled in blankets, full, and comfortable, he felt a measure of satisfaction that he couldn't remember ever having.

The next few days followed a pattern of the Praetorians riding hard for most of the day, finding a small town, commandeering a house, and staying there for the night. Paullus hadn't seen them convince the owner of the house from the first night to let their new Emperor quarter in their house, and the negotiations were much more like physical intimidation. An irate owner on the third day had refused to be evicted, shouting at the Praetorians that he was a citizen of the Empire and entitled to what he owned. Nerva had ended the argument by casually drawing her sword and flattening the man's nose with its pommel, all the while wearing the same smirk she always did.

Paullus spent most of the days in relative quiet, not speaking with many of the Praetorians. Nerva's offhand brutality and callousness kept him from making conversation with her, and the bawdy jokes and raucous demeanor of the rest isolated him more. Observing them was overwhelming enough given the tameness of his usual conversation partners.

Each day the Praetorians would clear another public bath for him, but Nerva didn't conduct the same almost affectionate cleaning routine. She bathed in turn with the others, enjoying the comradery with her troops more than playing cleaning slave for him. He was fine with that as their interaction had left him more anxious around her anyway, but the days were lonely. He no longer dressed in the finery of the first day, Nerva explaining that there was no sense in dirtying royal wear during a ride that no one was watching him for. He still rode in her saddle, the larger woman pressed up against him, but as the days went on his legs grew accustomed to the abuse and were no longer nearly as sore.

On the sixth day of riding, they came within sight of the capital. Paullus only had small memories of it, but it still loomed as large as ever when they crested a hill and saw the city's sprawl. Public buildings close to the center hills of the city towered over the red-tiled houses. Even at a great distance, the air seemed to smell different, the atmospherepl of the landscape seemed to bend around it. The city seemed to have its own gravity as more and more villas littered the countryside towards it.

Halfway through that day, the group stopped at a villa just a bit from the outskirts of the city. There was no owner to oust and the Praetorians seemed to know the property well, taking their horses to the stable and ordering the few slaves there around.

"We'll stay here for the night." Nerva mentioned as she and Paullus dismounted. He frowned at her. There was still plenty of daylight and it looked like it would only take an hour to make it to the city's center.

"Why are we not finishing the ride today? Is this not our journey's conclusion right in front of us?"

"Patience, Little Alba." The appellation of 'little' was even more unwelcome than the addition of Alba. "An Emperor's entrance into the capital is no small thing. You'll have time to rest before you see your new subjects."

The guards spent the day at ease, but as the sun began to go down he noticed a change in their demeanor. Whereas discipline always seemed a little lax, close to dark they tended to be especially disordered. Now they had all cleaned and straightened their uniforms, checked their weapons, made sure each element of themselves was perfect. They even looked to be standing up straighter, their chatter dying down instead of the usual uptick.

"You'll wear your fine clothing tonight." Nerva told him as she entered his room just beyond the antechamber. She was as polished as the rest of the guards, her helmet only removed because the plumage scraped the ceiling.

"Is there something happening tonight?" Paullus' eyes nervously flicked between all the other guards.

"Maybe. Probably." She stepped aside as the villa's few slaves scampered in with the clothes she had originally given him a few days ago. They helped remove the clothing he was wearing down the loincloth before doing most of the work to put on his clothes. He felt a sense of unreality as they clothed him, his colossal guard keeping a watchful eye on them.

Her curt response and more reserved demeanor kept Paullus from any follow-up questions. The slaves finished their work, filing out of the room with their heads down. Nerva looked at his clothing, tugging a section here and there. After a moment she took a step back, nodded at him, and left the bedroom closing the door behind him. He heard her walk to the villa's front door, open, and close it as well.

He could hear crickets chirp as the sun fully sank, the house feeling especially empty in the dark with candles lit and expectation in the air. Paullus sat on the bed, hands in his lap waiting for whatever was supposed to happen. No sound came from inside the house or the guards outside for what seemed like hours. Paullus had grown bored, slumped, then laid on his side on the bed. He was almost asleep when he was jolted into perfect attentiveness by the sound of the front door opening.

"-without issue, for the most part?" He caught the middle of a sentence from a voice he hadn't heard before: calm, even, feminine.

"There was one group on the road but my scouts caught it. We avoided them easily." Nerva's voice, more respectfully inclined than usual.

"Did they have any obvious signs of affiliation?" The footsteps stopped and the voices were coming from the center of the antechamber.

"No. They were disordered; not professionals, but well-armed. Gladiators I would guess."

"Noted. I'll find out from who. Is he in there?" The words sent a lightning bolt down Paullus' spine. He stood up in front of the bed, his left arm that cradled the purple toga's spare fabric shaking slightly.

"That'll be all. You may wait outside." Whoever this was had enough authority to order Nerva out of the building. He heard footsteps, the door opening and closing again, and then softer, slower footsteps towards his room. His quickened breath now stopped entirely.

The door opened quickly, only just wide enough for the figure to enter, and was shut just as quickly. The feminine voice had indeed been a woman, although Paullus guessed she was really a futa. She was taller than him, although not nearly so much as Nerva, probably only slightly tall compared to a normal male. Before he could take any real look at her she dropped to a knee, head bowed in his direction. She had blonde hair tied in a messy bun, a black cloak billowing around the rest of her. She knelt there for a moment saying nothing. Paullus was dumbstruck, not quite sure what to do. His mouth slid open a little but he hesitated, no words coming out. She remained still, unmoving, seemingly untroubled by his silence.

"Uhm, please, stand." He said after a few moments of silence. The woman stood up, back straight, arms at her side, and her eyes flicked between Paullus' two different colored eyes.

"Thank you, my Emperor. I am glad you are safe. I am Maxima Sertoria, Prefect of your Praetorian Guard." Beneath the cloak, the Futa wore no special outfit, just a dark tunic and belt which didn't even have a dagger. Her body was lean, not having much of the curves that some of the aristocrats in the Empire thought of as a sign of their somewhat barbarous and intensely carnal intrinsic qualities. To be both lustful and violent, and adept at both, made the Futa seem both a blessing and a curse to humanity, depending on who was being asked.

Sertoria's face had an angular, sharp look to it. She seemed calm, but her natural expression seemed furtive as if she was constantly scrutinizing everything around her. Her skin was not pale but didn't have any of the olive color Nerva had. Her face showed a few more wrinkles; while Paullus guessed Nerva was in her early or mid-30s, he suspected Sertoria was perhaps a decade older. She had a thin, pink, puckered scar that ran parallel but just above one of her eyebrows. Her own eyes were a vibrant green, although the skin around her eyes was dark with fatigue. She looked like someone who hadn't slept well in a while.

"I know this is much to be thrust on you, and at such a young age." Her eyes moved over him searchingly. She took a half step forward, gently putting her hands on his arms just below his shoulders, making eye contact with him. "Are you alright physically? I know the ride you have been on will have been laborious. Did the cavalry treat you well? I know they have a habit of being the most willful member of the Guard."

"Yes, I'm fine." He couldn't sustain Sertoria's eye contact, glancing away as he said it. She gave his arms a little squeeze, holding the position a moment longer.

"Any issue you have with anything, with anyone, ever, don't hesitate to come to me. I am at your beck and call, your personal protector even more so than anyone else. Any other duties I have are second to your needs." She released him, taking a step back to give him some room. The color in his face was noticeably heightened; such fawning over him felt embarrassing.

"I also want to give you my, and the entire Guard's, condolences for the loss of your uncle and the rest of your family. It is a terrible loss that the Empire as a whole grieves for." Paullus chewed his lip anxiously as she bowed her head. She was being so deferential, so polite, that he felt wrong for concealing his own feelings. If she was to offer herself openly for his needs he decided in this instance, perhaps from days of staying mostly quiet, that he wanted to speak his mind and air his feelings.

"I am sorry, Prefect Sertoria, but... I don't really grieve for him. My close family died because of him, and he left me in a small little stone building shut away from the outside world. He was never good to me and while I'm sure it's sad his sons died, I didn't know them at all." Now that he was speaking the words came tumbling out, his voice obviously emotional.

"I dreamed for years that he would send someone to come kill me the way he did my father and brother. My clearest memory of my mother is her screaming at the guards who held her back while they were arrested. I... can't find it within me to be sad that he's gone. I just can't believe that everything has been left to me." When he looked at Sertoria he saw no judgment, no anger, no new emotion of any kind on her face.

"I understand entirely, your Majesty. Few would blame you, either. Still, that they died by violence is a grave threat to the power and authority of the position of Emperor. I hope that you will understand that, even though your uncle the Emperor deserves no love from you, we must still show no mercy and give no clemency to those responsible for his death, lest you suffer for it."

Paullus frowned. Nerva had said it had been weeks since the Emperor's death. Sertoria's words made it sound as if the killers were still at large, or at least that there were more to be punished.

"Prefect Sertoria..." He started slowly, attempting to choose his words carefully. "Who killed my Uncle and his sons?" Her expression never wavered.

"High-ranking members of the Senate killed the Emperor. He was killed in the Senate House during a riot having not taken the Praetorians inside as he thought that would only exacerbate the situation. He was stabbed by multiple Senators, although exactly who did it is not entirely certain... or whether there was a large conspiracy or not is also unknown." The muscles in her jaw flexed.

"The Guard has been trying to investigate who killed the Emperor, along with who might have been involved in a plot. Many slaves and mercenaries have been brought into the capital by the Senators and Equestrians, though, and for weeks the streets have been more like a battlefield than a city. We have made little progress beyond trying to stem the violence, and finding you and bringing you here has been the only way we could open an avenue to negotiate for both peace and justice to the murderers."

"Negotiate?" Paullus was puzzled by that, and growing more fearful about just what he was walking into.

"We are negotiating with Gnaeus Cornelius Junius Ahenobarbus, the Leader of the Senate. We are... reasonably sure he was not involved in the plot, and so are looking for his help in figuring out who was. He has brought the Equestrians in line with the Senators, though, and right now has more influence than any member of that vestigial body has had in centuries. He is attempting to take as much of the Emperor's rightful powers as possible, so while he may be necessary he should not be trusted or given any more than he has already taken."

"So, then," He felt like he was interrupting as he tried to understand the situation more, "what of my three cousins? How did they die, too?"

Sertoria dropped her gaze to the floor, sighing deeply.

"The Senate wished to install the Emperor's eldest son, Publius, immediately. Whether he was in on the plot I cannot say, but he refused to let the Praetorians work our rightful duty in bringing the traitors to justice." She swallowed hard. "He also refused the customary bonus of three years pay the Praetorians are accustomed to on acclamation of a new Emperor. I am mortified to say, a fringe group of the Guard, since executed, turned on him and assassinated him." Her eyes came back up to meet Paullus'. He thought there was real regret, real sadness in them.

"After that, the city became an inferno. Sextus attempted to assume the mantle of Emperor that day and was involved in a battle in the streets; I could not tell you how he died, only that it was with a sword in hand. The youngest, Mettius, attempted to flee the capital, but he tried to loot the treasury before doing so. Having not been acclaimed, the money was not his, and a group of Equestrians killed him before he could make off. Thus, for a few days, the Empire seemed to have rid itself of the bloodline three centuries in power and earned ourselves the ire of the Gods." The muscles in her face seemed to sag, then, and a smile pulled at the edges of her mouth.

"Until we were able to dig up your existence. Your uncle had not let it be widely known that you lived, and in fact, the Praetorian Guard ledger was the chief way it was confirmed, as they are who dropped you off at the hermitage those years ago."

Paullus did not look up as she spoke, taking in the full story. It appeared he was walking into a dispute between factions who had all taken an opportunity to kill an Emperor, or at least a would-be one. He slipped his hand into the fold of his toga where he had placed his sun pendant, nervously turning it over in his hand.

"I apologize for the secrecy and lack of formality in this visit with you. It is unbecoming of your position, I know, but there was need for it. In sending out the Guard to retrieve you, I had promised not to go myself; the Senate thinks I had plans to start my own Empire-wide war, which I assure you I do not. There were also objections to the veracity of evidence about your identity since it came from Praetorian records." She reached to the back of her tunic, taking out a small pouch that had been hidden under the cloak. Undoing the drawstrings she produced a gold ring with a fairly thin band, but a thick flat top. She held it out with thumb and forefinger towards Paullus who dutifully took it in a cupped hand.

"This is one of the Imperial signet rings." Paullus turned it so he could look at the seal: it had an intricately carved pattern of an eagle inside a sun in splendor. "They are being kept under intense scrutiny by a collaborative guard group meant to ensure no one tries to use it to claim rightful rulership. I, however, have possessed one for some time. While the obvious signs you are the Emperor's nephew, such as where we got you and your very distinctive eyes, are enough to convince me, I need to make sure everyone else is also convinced. I would ask that you wear this ring and that you say it was a gift from your mother before you were taken away. I know, I know, a lie. But you are the rightful Emperor and so I think any action is justified to make sure you are given your due."

Paullus thought she was glossing very quickly over the fact that she even had this ring, one he correctly thought was only ever supposed to be held by an Imperial family member. If it worked in keeping things from getting bloody, though, he wouldn't ask questions.

"I can do that." He slipped the ring, a bit too big, onto his index finger. Sertoria gave him a warm smile.

"You'll have to pretend like you haven't met me before when you see me. You'll have to ride a horse through the capital yourself during the ceremonial entrance. Tribune Nerva told me you haven't been trained in riding so you'll sit on one and she will walk in front of you with the reins during the procession. You'll merely have to wave at the people and bask in their relief."

Paullus nodded, grateful that little would be asked of him.

"You'll be paraded up to the Field of Mars where the Senate, the Praetorians, and I will be awaiting you. We shall look upon you, you shall show the ring, and then be acclaimed Emperor. The Leader of the Senate has required a brief meeting with you afterward, but do not fret over this: I believe he just means to make himself acquainted with you. Afterwards, there will be a celebration in the Golden Palace where you will be free to enjoy yourself." She bowed, taking another step back towards the door.

"I must hurry and get back so my absence is not noticed. Take care, my Emperor, and I will see you tomorrow. Do I have your leave?"

"Uhm, yes, of course." Another quick incline of her head and Sertoria was gone. Paullus sat back on the bed, pondering this meeting with the head of his bodyguard. She was certainly more deferential than Nerva, and much less chilling. She seemed to genuinely regret what was happening in the capital and had none of Nerva's cavalier attitude, yet he still couldn't shake an unease. The monks he had grown up with had a staunch dislike of Futa, something their religion saw as unnatural, and he wondered if he had let their opinion cloud his own. After all, one of the main Goddess' of the Empire, Apollonia, was a Futa. The religion Paullus' bloodline was supposed to descend from blended frequently with mythic Futa.

He sighed, lay in bed, and tried to sleep. He didn't even bother to remove his fancy clothing, not noticing it as he played with his fingers, nervous about the next day.

He had barely fallen asleep when Nerva had woken him to get ready. There was little he actually needed to do, turning down her offer of food as his stomach tied itself in knots. He got his things together and went out to the Praetorians. They were already on horseback for the most part, although he saw now that none wore their armor. Instead, they wore only their green tunics and sword belts.

"Why aren't you wearing your armor?" He asked Nerva sheepishly. He had trouble looking at her outside of her armor without picturing her naked, and that led to levels of discomfort for reasons of both lust and significant intimidation.

"Not allowed within the capital city, even ceremonially." She helped Paullus up onto the horse, a huge white destrier that he felt comically small on. It was exceptionally docile and barely noticed its rider. Nerva took the reins, walking at a slow pace in front.

The cavalry followed behind and they soon entered the city via the main gate. The buildings came up high on both sides of them; even the main road wasn't all that wide. The horse's hooves clicked beneath on the paved stone roads as they walked. It didn't seem as though many people had turned out to greet him based on the size of the city compared to his greeting, but those who did seemed unexpectedly enthusiastic. Paullus looked an oddity compared to all previous Emperors, but the people of the capital were so happy that there was an end to the political violence that they were thrilled to see whoever solved it.

The closer they got to the heart of the city the more citizens turned out, and soon Paullus found himself being caked with flowers as the wealthier citizens expressed their gratitude. He found the look of wonder on his face growing into an enthusiastic smile. So much attention and love was so unexpected, so much more than he ever thought to receive. For the first time, he felt excited about what was happening to him.

When they arrived at the Field of Mars the grounds were packed with people, the sound deafening to Paullus. His hand drooped from the wave it had been at for an hour, his jaw slackening as he looked at the mob.

"All this for me...?" He wasn't even sure if he said it out loud.

They headed towards the stairs of the temple to Mars, the largest structure that overlooked the field. Paullus could see the Senators standing on the lower steps, noticeable for their toga's red stripe along the hem. At the top of the stairs stood more figures dressed ostentatiously in a religious fashion. He saw Sertoria in the same green tunic as the rest of the guard, blonde hair down with small braids tied throughout. He smiled, holding his hand high again in a wave to show off the signet ring. He caught the glimpse of her smile, but practically reeled in the saddle at the crowd's roar of approval.

"Don't they love you." Nerva said through her smirk as she reined the horse in at the stairs. She held out a hand, helping to get Paullus off the horse without hoisting him the way she had before. It didn't look natural, but it didn't look like he was a child either.

He walked the stairs, back straight, the air itself seeming to reverberate around him. The Pontifex Maximus, wearing a strange cloak of red and black that had a hood covering only half his head, came forward and bowed low. Paullus extended his hand containing the ring which the priest observed, inclined his head again, and backed away. Another older man dressed in a Senatorial toga came forward. He was mostly bald with some white hair on the sides of his head remaining, a very thin layer of facial hair also stark white. He looked stiff as he came up and Sertoria quickly came up beside him to greet Paullus in tandem.

"Well, quite an ovation for our new Emperor." The older man said in a deep, sonorous voice. He extended his neck slightly to look at the ring and Paullus quickly obliged, holding it out so he, too, could see it. He saw Sertoria move to look and had to stop himself from smiling directly at her. She sighed deeply.

"Satisfied?" She asked, a measure of exhaustion in her voice. The man opened his arms, chuckling.

"I have no further arguments. The boy is indeed our Emperor." He bowed, as did Sertoria, and the two came along either side of him. Each took one of his wrists and lifted it, the crowd's noise reaching new heights. Paullus thought he might go deaf. Sertoria released his arm, stepping away, but the older man shifted it to the boy's elbow, tugging a little and signaling with his head for the two to enter the temple directly behind them. He followed, sneaking a quick look back at Sertoria, but she had stepped away.

The sound died off dramatically as they passed the stone columns and entered the building, its thick stone walls keeping the noise at bay. It was huge inside, stained glass windows casting beautifully colored light, multiple marble statues larger than life of the feats of Mars taking up sections of the temple, and a great altar at the far side of it.

"Good to meet you, Emperor Saturninus. Although, I had heard the Praetorian Cavalry had already given you the name Alba." He smiled casually, releasing Paullus' arm and taking a few steps further towards a statue. He was taller than Paullus, perhaps as tall as Sertoria, and despite his age, the boy heard nothing of mental deterioration in his voice and still felt strength in his grip.

"I have never really been addressed as Saturninus." He confessed. "The monks of the hermitage just called me Paullus."

"Ah, yes." The man looked back at him sadly. "I am truly sorry for your stay there. I admit I had no knowledge of you, thinking that the Emperor had done away with you years before. I am glad his cruelty was not so complete as we feared." This man, at least, did not feel the need to apologize for his uncle's death.

"I believed he kept me alive because of my age and for love of my mother who he drove to suicide." The older man nodded wanly.

"Even a monster can be moved at times, it would seem. If we had known a more worthy alternative had been living a week's ride from the capital, well..." He trailed off. Was he implying they would've killed the Emperor earlier? The man certainly made it sound as if he was fine with the Emperor's death, or maybe even that he was in on it.

"Ah, where are my manners? I forget that you are new to the capital altogether. I am Gnaeus Cornelius Junius Ahenobarbus, Princeps Senatus, and at this time somewhat of a governor of the capital city. I am mostly in control of the situation that has broken out here and would be happy to continue on in this fashion as you get used to your position. I know there is much for you to learn about the court, the Empire. Consider me a resource for whatever you might need." He smiled, but his demeanor was like an arrogant adult speaking to a child. He dripped of the pompous egoism Sertoria's tone had implied when she discussed the Senate.

"Senator Ahenobarbus, I have a question for you."

"I am all ears and answers." The man said with a smile.

"I have been told the Senate killed my uncle. Who did it?" The smile slid off the Senator's face, drooping down into a frown.

"I will answer your question, your Majesty, but first let me tell you a few things. The late Emperor, your uncle, Tiberius Livius Saturninus was commonly known by his epithet Carnifex." Butcher. "The man was exceptionally paranoid about assassins and usurpers and tended to deal with rumors of such things through executions, unfair trials, and his own assassins. Many Senators had renounced their right to the assembly because they might fall victim to him. His own brother-in-law, your father, could not escape. He was a savage." The man's voice was like iron. Paullus let him continue.

"His son, Publius, was a good and just man. He hated his father, which everyone in the Senate could understand, but he harbored no disloyalty to him. He did not lack in familial piety. The Senate, myself included I must say, waited anxiously and patiently for the day Publius would be Emperor. His father, no doubt sensing this, decided that he would pass over Publius and name his second son, Sextus, as heir." The man looked disgusted by the words coming from his own mouth.

"A riot in the Senate House ensued and he attempted to placate the Senators to no avail. While I cannot say I was involved in whatever plot happened, I can say I understand the men killed him." He gave Paullus a look of defiance.

"What came after that was a massacre at the hands of the Praetorians. Those bitches demanded half the treasury. Publius rightfully said no and they hacked him to pieces. Disgusting." He stepped closer towards Paullus, whispering conspiratorially.

"I understand the need to punish the Senators responsible for this, although I would understand if, instead of doing so, you opted for clemency as they killed a man who had been so cruel and unfair to you and your family. But you must find out how to pry the Praetorian's claws out of the court." He curled his fingers into a tight fist. "Prefect Sertoria is as brutal and cutthroat as your uncle was. That bitch wants power and she'll do whatever she can to get it. For 200 years there have been at least 2 Prefects, now she is the first to command the Praetorians alone. This cannot be allowed to stand."

Paullus blinked at him, surprised at the sudden fervor. He couldn't fault the reasoning about his uncle, even if it meant a willingness of this man to see an Emperor murdered. But his hate for Sertoria specifically seemed out of place. She seemed easily best out of all the ones he had met.

"Really? Sertoria?" He winced out how weak his pleading question sounded. He wanted someone to trust.

"Don't let her manner fool you. She is a knife in the dark; a cold iron blade looking for its next warm home. You must find a second to appoint to the post. Keep her from consolidating her position so she must play internal politics with the guards instead of with me. With us." Paullus felt like his head was starting to swim.

"I... I don't even know where I would go..." He brought a hand up to his forehead, rubbing it.

"The Cavalry Tribune, Nerva I believe? They were outside the capital at the time. They have none of Publius' blood on their hands."

"Nerva?!" His response was almost a laugh. She was the most casually cruel person he had met. He had no intention of elevating her. The mere suggestion by Ahenobarbus immediately spoiled whatever persuasion the older man was trying for.

"Just consider it. I worry about your safety in the hands of those Praetorians. Because of that, I have argued fiercely with the Prefect and she has been forced to agree to another measure of your protection. Carbo!" He called to the doorway, beckoning. A man walked through that was built like a bull. He was hugely tall, his shoulders so wide he looked almost square. He wore a pale blue tunic that was stretched at every seam by muscle. The dark hair on his head looked only a few days from having been shaven, the same as his massively strong jaw. His forearms and face were littered with small scars and scrapes. He carried a bundle of uniform sticks with the head of an axe peaking out: a symbol of authority from back when the Empire was a Republic.

"This is Aulus Carbo, and he will be the head of your group of Lictors. They are responsible for making sure your authority is never in question... but they will also function as your personal bodyguards." The huge man bowed his head.

"I am at your service, Your Majesty." The man's voice was like rattling gravel.

"He will be one of fifteen Lictors. They will all be at your beck and call and should you feel threatened you need only shout for them. I did have to promise the Prefect they wouldn't be allowed in the Imperial bedroom, but everywhere else it will be easy enough to have them attend you." He flicked his wrist dismissively and Carbo saw himself out of the temple door where he had come.

"Now, I hate to overwhelm you with my fears for your safety, but there is one that is perhaps the most pressing. We have been exceedingly blessed that the royal bloodline was not extinguished, and we have you to thank for that." He cleared his throat. "But that is no guarantee of our safety. One lone young man holding the threads of the Empire together?" He shook his head emphatically. Paullus was unsure if this was meant to be the man's real fear or if it was more of a threat.

"For the good of the Empire, I would insist that you have an heir as quickly as possible." Color bloomed on Paullus' face as he understood what the man meant.

"I.... I..." He felt indignant, embarrassed, and taken aback by the request. He felt plenty of lust for the women that he had observed upon entering the city, his time with the men of the hermitage containing a desire that could never truly leave him. But to have a child? He had barely just come to the city! The ask was ridiculous.

"I assure you say this purely in the interest of our Empire's safety." He made a beckoning motion to one of the statues behind Paullus, the boy whirling to see who he motioned to.

"And your choice of who was to bear the heir could make for quite a powerful political connection. One that could help you in the long run." His words barely made it to Paullus who watched with rapt attention as a woman came out from behind one of the statues of Mars. She was shorter than Paullus, her brown hair intricately tied into something like a crown about her head, two small ringlets allowed to hang down and frame her face. The thin gold string in her hair glowed in the stained glass light, giving her a look of luminescence. She was a bit older, maybe in her early forties, with only small wrinkles at the corners of her eyes giving it away. She had a delicate smile on lips painted a dark red. She wore a stola: the female equivalent to a toga which looked much more like a sleeveless dress, girdled at her waist. Underneath was a thin, slightly orange tunic. The fabric of both barely had any room to hang and looked practically painted on the woman. Her generous hips rolled as she strode towards Paullus, long eyelashes slowly blinking at him.

The clothes did a particularly fine job of showing off the woman's large chest. Her body looked not far off from that of a fertility idol, and her curves, beautiful face, impeccable aspect, and motherly age made her the ideal figure to entrap a young man who had lost his mother young and had his sexual feelings for women repressed for so long. If Paullus wasn't busy staring at her chest he probably would have put it together, too. The boy was naive but already suspicious of Ahenobarbus and didn't trust anything he was saying... but it was hard to remember that over the sound of his heart beating in his ears. He had stopped breathing as he watched her without thinking.

"Your Majesty." She stopped a pace in front of him, bowing her head before looking back up to face him.

"My niece, Cornelia." The Senator's words came from slightly further away as he slowly backed up, putting some space between himself and the pair.

"A pleasure to meet you." Her words were soft and pleasant, her smile coming easily. Paullus stood silent for a moment, searching for his response.

"Ah- a pleasure to meet you as well." He held out his hand in the normal greeting he would give to the monks he had lived with. A soft giggle came from the woman as he realized that a shaking of hands wasn't the formal response expected of an Emperor. His face turned crimson and he hastily pulled his hand back.

"Oh, no, your Majesty." She took a half step towards him, reaching back out to take his hand with hers. "If this is your way of greeting then I should be the one to correct themself, not you." The hand that took his had its nails painted a similar red to that of Cornelia's lips. She took his hand with her's, palm up, drawing it back between them. She was perfumed in clove, a rich, mildly spicy smell that Paullus had little experience with.

"I am so thankful for your presence, your majesty. The whole city is. We are all just so full of gratitude for you." She clasped her other hand around his, pulling it forward as she placed her own hands to her chest in a sign of thanks. A sign that brought his hand between her breasts, which she discreetly pressed together by pulling her elbows together. She looked at him with such adoration and his mouth parted ever so slightly, his body totally overwhelmed. His eyes couldn't help but linger on her hands that clutched his, getting a rather good eyeful of her chest. Her only giveaway that she could tell was a slight quirk to her smile.

"You know, I was friends with your mother." Her voice was a husky whisper. Paullus' eyes widened as he looked back up to her face.

"What is going on here!?" The bellow that came from the entrance was so unexpected, so loud, and so angry that Paullus made an actual yelp, instinctively pulling his hand away and backing up a few paces away from the voice. Cornelia turned and Ahenobarbus' back straightened, but neither moved in response.

"I said you could have a meeting and introduce Carbo. I did not authorize this woman to be in the Emeperor's presence." Sertoria's voice was unrecognizable and she stomped forward, incandescent with rage. "You will keep your whores and their hooks away from him." Her words were like spat-out bile as she came between Paullus and the Senator.

"You will not address my niece like that." His voice and eyes were resolute.

"I am no whore." Cornelia jutted her chin high up into the air. The look Sertoria gave her made Paullus want to step in to protect her.

"I was merely introducing her to the Emperor, Prefect Sertoria. There is no cause for alarm." He strode over to his niece, taking her arm and leading her towards the temple's entrance. "And now, we are leaving." The two of them each gave a short bow to the boy. "We shall see you at the festivities, your Majesty."

Sertoria stepped in front of Paullus, blocking any view he would have had to watch the beautiful woman walk away.

"My Emperor." Her tone was rapidly cooling from its momentary boil, but it held none of the warmth she had shown in their meeting the night before. "I must apologize for my tone, I do not mean to shout in front of you. But you must be careful around women. Being unmarried, they will all be looking to ensnare you. That woman, Cornelia." She pointed out towards the door, a look of disgust on her face.

"Eight days ago she and her husband divorced. You can bet Ahenobarbus was behind that. For all we know, she's pregnant with her ex-husband's child now and wants to seduce you, pretend it was yours, and get rid of you as soon as she has the welp." The venom in her voice only increased Paullus' thoughts that she was being overly paranoid, verging on unhinged.

"I'll be careful." He put up his hands in a soothing gesture, his tone as cooperative as possible.

"It's only for your sake that I worry." She took a few deep breaths, steadying her emotions and her voice. "The Guard will keep you safe. Even now I was close enough to stop anything." She spoke as if reassuring herself more than Paullus. He hadn't been interested in stopping anything Cornelia had been doing.

"Come." She motioned towards the temple entrance. "We shall fulfill the final leg of your procession, then feast in your honor." Paullus dutifully followed her lead.

Outside he remounted his horse, again led by Nerva, while the Senators and the Praetorians followed behind on foot. The crowd that gathered along the street was smaller and smaller as they headed up towards the Golden Palace, further away from the suburbs that housed most citizens. Carbo and his group of Lictors, all strong-looking men but nothing like the beast that was their Chief, emerged to walk close to him, each with their bundle of sticks and axes. The combination of armed men and Futa did plenty to keep the citizens from getting too close to their new Emperor.

There were two Praetorians standing guard at the portico to the palace. Nerva marched his horse up to the steps of it, helping him dismount again.

"Enjoy the festivities, little Alba." She whispered only loud enough for him to hear before she melted away into the crowd of guards.

The door guards saluted as Paullus entered and was promptly struck dumb by just how ostentatious it was. Every piece of the palace seemed to be the most beautiful thing he had seen. Walls held intricate sconces, frescoed paintings. Further in, marble statues, tiled mosaics, gardens, and pools were everywhere that he looked. Ivory and silver ornamented every doorway, rafters were covered in decorative gold leaf symbols. Slaves ran to and fro carrying plates of food, ornamental trophies, and anything else aristocrats would expect to see at a party thrown for the Emperor.

He was ferried away to a deep interior room far enough that he began to fear he wouldn't find his way out if needed. Then he considered that he wouldn't know his way around anywhere and let the idea float away as slaves and servants doted on him. He found that nobody he knew was around him. Strangers prodded at him, lifting his toga away, motioning for him to step out of his sandals, dabbing him with cool, damp rags and scented oils.

He was undressed down to his loincloth and given a fine, deep red tunic to wear. Red boots were brought out too, and a gold cord to tie around his waist. His hair was quickly brushed and fluffed, the servants cooing about it to themselves. One slave brought out a brush and a small bottle of red paint, explaining to him that at his feast he would be embodying the role of Jupiter, father of the Empire. It seemed silly that a boy would play a father figure, but he assented as they painted his face a bright red and placed a golden laurel wreath on his head.

After they finished preparing him, Sertoria entered the room to take him away. He was beginning to weary of all the attention, ready to fall asleep. His stomach growled, reminding him that sleep should come after he finally got a meal.

They entered a great hall to a boisterous cry of well wishes. The highest-ranking Senators were standing, but a wave and smile from the new Emperor was enough for them all to return to reclining on their couches around the main table. Paullus glanced around as he half sat, half laid on his couch, noticing that some Senators had brought their wives. On the couch next to Ahenobarbus, he saw Cornelia who smiled brightly at him. He smiled in return.

Servants began bringing food in on large trays for the center table, then delivered each guest a plate of what they desired from each course. Paullus had no idea what to say to the many guests that were gathered for him, but they seemed content to speak amongst themselves and occasionally bring him up while he was content to eat richer foods than he ever could have imagined before.

"Before we get too far!" Ahenobarbus called out as he stood from his couch. "I would like to thank our host for having us and for the God's favor in bringing to us an exalted member of the Imperial bloodline. To your good health! To Emperor Alba!"

He raised his goblet and the crowd echoed "To Emperor Alba!" The nickname having already caught on.

Paullus grasped his own cup, raising it in turn, and downed a thirsty gulp from its contents. He wrinkled his nose at the taste; wine was a totally foreign drink to him and the bitter, harsh flavor didn't satisfy his thirst at all.

"Do you dislike the wine, your Majesty?" A concerned sounding senatorial guest asked.

"Oh, no." He replied hastily. "Where I grew up wine wasn't allowed. It's my first time. I have heard it said before that it's an acquired taste, so I just haven't acquired it yet." The guests looked around at each other, faces incredulous. After a moment they broke out in excited calls for more cups of different vintages of wine. A parade of slaves was brought in bringing the Emperor different wines to try with senators and their wives offering their opinions on what they did and didn't like and what they thought Paullus would.

Paullus was overwhelmed by the attention. He politely sampled from each cup, attempting to taste any of the notes and complexities they described from each cup. There was very little difference to him, and at first, they all had the same level of sourness that the first had. He tried not to criticize any of them, offering very vague and general opinions. But soon his cheeks and lips had an unusual warmth and numbness, and his skin underneath the red paint was its own shade of crimson. He stroked his face, giggling at the sensation. Giggling at everything, really. Each comment made to him seemed funnier than the last and every glass of wine seemed to taste better than the one before.

"Oh, uh, where can I go to...." He turned to Sertoria, not recognizing how clenched every muscle in her body seemed in his inebriated state.

"Down this hallway here." She gestured, understanding that someone who had just had as many cups of wine as he would need to relieve himself. He stood up off the couch, suddenly holding his arms out as he felt the floor sway.

"Whoa." He giggled to himself, a chorus of guests laughing along with him as he felt the sensation of being drunk for the first time. He moved out towards the hallway, hand steadying himself against the walls as he went. He could feel the close presence of both Sertoria and the lictor Carbo. He didn't feel nearly so intimidated by them in this state. They stopped at the end of the hallway, trusting their charge to make it there.

The hallway wasn't long and he found himself at the toilet, did his business, and turned back out. The hallway was only dimly lit and now was empty; he could faintly hear Carbo and Sertoria arguing in hushed hisses from around the corner. He paused, enjoying the moment of being alone, his body prickly with happy energy. He shifted his weight from foot to foot breathing heavily when he felt a hand come from the other direction in the hallway, lightly grabbing his shoulder.

He whirled, beginning to gasp in alarm that someone had snuck up on him from the shadows when a gentle finger pressed against his lips.

"Shhh." Cornelia's whisper was a half giggle as she shushed Paullus. She looked even more radiant in his current state. As he sucked in air through his nose he was intoxicated by her smell, spicy-sweet perfume engulfing his senses.

"I'm sorry to sneak up on you like this, but it's the only way I could come talk to you alone." Her face had the slight blush that was a telltale sign of her own wine consumption. "How does it feel to become Emperor so suddenly?"

"Um..." He paused for what seemed like an uncomfortably long moment, basking in the glow of her beauty. He almost forgot he needed to speak, her face never faltering from its look of sincere interest. "Good." He laughed at the simplicity of his response, but at the moment it did genuinely feel good.

She lifted a hand, tucking a loose lock of hair behind one of Paullus' ears, her fingers trailing down his ear to his cheek, lingering on a painted cheek. She bit her lip lightly, drawing Paullus' eyes.

"Your eyes... they have such contrasting colors. They'd be beautiful individually but together they're so stunning." She brought her other hand up, framing his face with her soft hands. "I'm sure every girl has told you that, though."

"There were no women at the hermitage." He was breathless at her compliments, at her touch. He wanted to melt into her palms. Her eyes widened, her hands pressing into his cheeks slightly.

"Oh, I forgot! I'm so sorry, my dear Paullus." He didn't notice her lack of propriety in using his name. "A boy your age would be lusting after women left and right. You must be of a truly heroic virtue to have survived so pent up and starved of a woman's touch."

He gulped, embarrassed at her assessment. There had been plenty of nights he had laid in his straw bed thrusting helplessly into his hand as he longed for a woman, his few memories doing little to help. He felt himself stir between his legs as she continued to fawn over him.

"But even a hero longs for a woman, doesn't he?" She batted her eyelashes at him and he could do little but nod his head, tingles running up and down his spine. She slid one hand off his cheek around to where his spine met his skull, massaging with her thumb and forefinger gently while she removed the other hand. She slid the strap of her sleeveless dress off, moving that shoulder to slip through the slackened strap. Her hand reached up, quickly tugging down her dress on one side, exposing one full, heavy breast.

It was Paullus' turn for his eyes to turn as wide as dinner plates, his lips parting at the sight of her bare pink nipple. He had seen Nerva naked, but the shock of change along with her huge cock had somewhat dampened his attraction. Cornelia didn't wait for a reaction; the hand on the back of Paullus' neck tightened and pulled the boy's face into her tit. He made a small 'mmph!' before he felt her soft, warm skin against his face.

"Suck." Her voice was husky and her pull became more insistent. She didn't have to command twice as Paullus took her nipple into his mouth, Cornelia emitting a delicate moan as he did so. His hands gravitated to her hips, delicately holding them as he sucked, swirling his tongue over her hardening nipple without the need for instruction. "Good boy." She murmured, running her fingers through his hair.

Paullus' small cock was hard as a rock, pressing against the fabric of his tunic. They stood like that for a moment, him bent down to suckle on her, his fingers gripping her hips tighter the longer they went. He was so engrossed by her body that he didn't hear the sound of the arguing voices approaching the corner at the end of the corridor. Cornelia did, tugging on the scruff of the younger boy's neck and pulling him off her with an audible wet pop. He let out a little whine as she tucked her breast back into her dress, gave him a little pat on the cheek along with a little giggle, and hurriedly moved back in the other direction down the dark hallway.

He stood, mouth hanging open still, lips glossy and wet with his spit, watching Cornelia's ass as she hurried away. He considered going after her when he felt the presence of someone not far behind him. He turned, catching the silhouette of Sertoria standing, arms crossed, staring at him. The beast of a man Carbo turned the corner a second later, his broad shoulders looking far more relaxed than the Prefect's.

"Sorry I took so long." Paullus mumbled, attempting to shift his tunic in a way that didn't make his erection so obvious.

"No need for apologies, lad. It's what wine does to men." Carbo's voice was deep and easy, but Sertoria said nothing as the three walked back toward the waiting room of guests. He walked between them, his pace nervously quick but his gait uneasy from drink. When they entered back into the chamber he moved to seat himself again on his couch, but Sertoria's strong hand slipped around his arm holding him in place.

"Guests of the Emperor." Her voice was commanding. The drunken faces of dozens of guests turned to look at her and her small charge. "As I'm sure you can guess, his Majesty has grown tired from his first night of drinking. He thanks you all, but he will now be heading to his chambers. You are all welcome to stay and continue your meal." She shook Paullus' arm lightly.

"Oh, uh, thank you all!" Paullus dutifully called out, doing his best not to slur his words. A chorus of 'Ave, Alba!' was bellowed at him. Before he could say anything or react Sertoria's hand had shifted around to his hip, leading him out of the chamber with some speed.

"A fine night and celebration, your Majesty." The Lictor said as he moved quickly to keep up with the hurrying Praetorian. Sertoria's pace quickened, practically carrying Paullus as his feet made only the most perfunctory contact with the ground. Praetorians and lictors seemed to coalesce around them from thin air as they moved, turning in to a crowd of their own.

They moved into a courtyard just before making it to the Imperial residence. The night air on Paullus' face reminded him of the paint caked on it. It was starting to feel brittle and suddenly he was feeling very uncomfortable. He glanced at the courtyard's fountain: a large bronze statue of the Goddess Priapa stood in the middle, a huge muscular figure in a hoplite helmet carrying a spear and shield and wearing nothing else. The sound of water reached his ears from where it streamed out: the statue was of a Futa with an enormous erect cock, the water spewing forth from it.

"Can I wash my face?" He asked at his stone-faced Prefect.

"Think he wants anything else that comes out of a Futa's cock?" The snigger came from a guard behind them. A furious glance from Sertoria silenced them.

"When we get to your chambers." Her words were curt. As they approached the doors she spun on her heels looking back at the crowd trailing them. "As agreed upon, the Imperial bedchamber is the dominion of the Praetorians only. The lictors shall not enter." The instruction came in such a severe tone that a shiver of fear ran down Paullus' spine. Any remaining hardness between his legs was gone.

"I shall station men outside in the courtyard, your Majesty. If you have any need of them, do not hesitate to call." Sertoria spat at Carbo's words, turning again and pulling Paullus into the bedchamber.

The room inside was the picture of extravagance. A large chamber lit by braziers at each corner, the room was ringed by statuettes of fertility gods and idols on pedestals. The floor was covered almost entirely by a woven rug of the finest quality, with a central bed of incredible size covered in silks with silk canopies and curtains about it, all in red. To the side was a basin of water which Serotia guided him to before releasing him.

"You may clean yourself here, your Majesty." She instructed, releasing him. He leaned over it, stumbling a bit, and unceremoniously dunked his head into the cool liquid. It felt like heaven. His hands moved about his face, the crusted paint dissolving into the water. He brought his face back out, wet tendrils of hair sticking to his cheeks and neck. He turned to one of the guards he hadn't met before.

"Did I get it all?" The Futa guard shrugged, appearing uninterested in him barely even looking his way. Sertoria was already striding back his way. He turned to ask her, but the coldness on her face stopped the words from coming out.

"Stand over by the bed, we'll take the place of your usual bedroom slaves and undress you. The night is over." Her words were a command brooking no argument and Paullus hastened next to the opulent bed.

"I'm not used to slaves at all..." No one responded to his small voice.

Two Praetorians were already on either side, towering over him. One slipped her arms under Paullus', holding him steady while the other untied his boots and slid them off. She let go of him, pressing herself a little against him so he could lean on her as she undid the golden belt around his waist. The other took his golden laurel crown, depositing it on a table, then his tunic, lifting it as he lifted his arms in turn to help her.

"Thanks." He said, standing before the bed in nothing but his loin cloth. He moved to get in bed but one of them caught his shoulder.

"The ring." She said coolly, holding out a hand.

"Oh, right." He slipped his Imperial ring off, handing it her while the other guard's hand came down to the drawstrings of the loin cloth, quickly undoing them. He was suddenly very naked in front of these guards, the skin of his chest blushing to match the alcoholic flush his face felt. His hands came down to cover his groin.

"On the bed face up." Sertoria's voice came from behind him.

"What..?" Paullus turned to ask, his head coming around in time to observe Sertoria take and pocket the ring, but the words weren't for him. The guards spun him, then each put a hand on his shoulder and the other on his bicep, pulling him down to the bed. He was flat on his back, the comfortable silk at odds with the feeling of the guard's strong hands acting like fetters.

"What are you-" His voice rose an octave as fear and embarrassment started to set in.

"Legs up." He stared at her as Sertoria walked up between the two, the Praetorians keeping one hand each on an arm to hold it in place while the other hand slid under his thigh, behind his knee, and pulled his knees up to his chest, exposing him lewdly.

"He-hey!" He stuttered weakly in both panic and indignity at the semi-fetal position he was forced into. His words caught sharply as he saw Sertoria's face.

"I warned you earlier about my fears of the women at court and their designs for you. As Praetorian Prefect I cannot stand idly by while they attempt to seduce you and take control of the Empire." She held up a small golden object: a somewhat large gold ring with a considerably smaller one inside, the top of both rings joined with a locking hinge. The smaller ring also had bars that crossed over it both horizontally and vertically to make a small, caged cylinder.

"This device will ensure that no woman can take advantage of you." She reached down with her free hand, taking Paullus' cock and balls together and tugging them slightly towards her. He gasped in fear, his balls tightening, but if anything it only helped as she slid the ring down over the top and around them, adjusting his sack to make sure it hung outside the ring. Once in place it felt like someone had a weak but continuous grip around the base of his balls and cock, and she adjusted Paullus' limp cock into the smaller cylindrical cage, closing it and twisting a small key in the tiny lock. He winced as his cock was mashed against the metal encasing it.

"No..." He whimpered quietly, not even attempting to writhe away as the guard's rough hands kept him firmly in place.

"This will keep any woman from sullying your honor and exposing you to scandal or worse." She said matter-of-factly as she attached the key to a gold chain hanging around her neck, tucking it into the top of her tunic. "You will be released for cleaning and, I think, when we have found you a suitable marriage. A man as young as you doesn't marry for quite a few years, though, usually." She nodded to the two guards who released his legs and arms, dropping him on the comfortable fabric as they got up.

"This is not a punishment, your Majesty, I promise you that. I am still your faithful servant and would never deign to do something undeserving to your illustrious station. Your Praetorians are only able to control so much of the world, though, and for now I believe this to be the safest course of action." She bowed her head along with the other two guards before turning on her heel and leaving, not waiting this time to be dismissed. The other two guards moved away but stayed at the edge of the room still on duty.

Paullus' hands dug into the sheets as he looked down at the golden cage that kept his cock from getting hard. He whined a little as he pitifully thrashed in the sheets, conflicting feelings of attraction, fear, and frustration crashing like waves in his alcohol-clouded mind. The cool metal quickly quickly warmed to his body temperature, but the feeling of tightness against both his balls and cock felt like a level of imprisonment he had never known despite more than a decade of exile. His hands went to it, attempting to find a way out, but even if they were in a more dexterous condition there would have been no hope. His whiny, exasperated gasps were met with snickers of laughter from the guards across the room. It was late into the night when he finally relented, his cheeks wet with despairing tears. His frustrated, overstimulated body sagged to sleep as the boy's mind raced with thoughts of how to get out of his cage.