As the gates creaked open, Marcus was struck by the opulence of the estate. Gardens bursting with vibrant flowers lined the cobblestone path, and the distant sound of a fountain's gentle trickle added to the serene atmosphere. Slaves moved swiftly, tending to their tasks with practiced precision. Marcus could scarcely believe he had been summoned to work as a scribe for such an esteemed family.
Inside the villa, he was led to a spacious atrium adorned with statues of Roman gods and walls painted with intricate frescoes. A woman's voice, firm yet melodic, called out, "You must be Marcus."
Turning, Marcus found himself face-to-face with Cornelia Domitia, the matron of the house. Her presence was commanding, her beauty regal even in her middle age. Dressed in a flowing stola of deep crimson, she regarded him with piercing eyes that seemed to assess his every thought.
"Yes, my lady," Marcus replied, bowing his head. "I am honored to serve."
Cornelia's lips curved into a faint smile, but something in her gaze made Marcus uneasy. "Good," she said. "You'll find the work demanding, but rewarding if you prove yourself capable."
Before he could respond, a second figure entered the room. Livia, Cornelia's daughter, was a vision of youthful elegance. Her hair, dark as night, cascaded over her shoulders, and her emerald-green eyes sparkled with curiosity. Unlike her mother's commanding demeanor, Livia exuded warmth and kindness.
"Mother," she said, her voice soft but confident, "is this the new scribe?"
"Yes," Cornelia replied, her tone dismissive. "But you have other matters to attend to, Livia."
Livia's gaze lingered on Marcus for a moment longer than propriety allowed, and he felt his cheeks flush under her scrutiny. "Welcome," she said simply before departing, her presence leaving a lingering sense of wonder in Marcus's heart.
Over the next few hours, Marcus familiarized himself with the estate and his duties. As the sun dipped below the horizon, he sat in the library, copying a set of scrolls by lamplight. The silence was broken only by the faint rustle of parchment and the occasional distant echo of voices from the main hall.
When the door creaked open behind him, Marcus turned to see Livia standing in the doorway, her expression hesitant. "I hope I'm not disturbing you," she said, stepping inside.
"Not at all, my lady," Marcus replied, rising to his feet.
"I wanted to thank you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "For coming here. I know my mother can be... exacting."
Marcus smiled. "It is an honor to serve your family, my lady."
Livia hesitated, as if weighing her next words carefully. "If you ever need anything, Marcus... I hope you'll let me know."
Before he could respond, she turned and left, leaving Marcus alone with the faint scent of lavender lingering in the air.
For the first time in his life, Marcus felt as though he stood on the edge of something extraordinary-though he could not yet foresee the trials and temptations that awaited him within the walls of the Domitia estate.
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