25. A Wedding Day

A Wedding Day

Luella

I’ve spent the past two clipses in the belly of Orcus. Ledo engages in sex acts that begin as consensual–well, as consensual as anything between a harem flora and a Praetor can be–and then dissolve into abuse. Ledo makes them ask for it and thank him for it, and I am to watch without interfering.

This is the hardest part. Harder than it’s ever been. Sitting back while women are hurt. I will remember every face I’ve seen him abuse. Every lash he’s bestowed. And I will savor it when he realizes he will never do it again.

“Please, stop,” one of the floras whimpers as Ledo uses the flagrum on her. He can’t use it too much, or they lose consciousness. They could die, but he doesn’t care about that. He cares if they can continue their duties, and he cares if he damages the Emperor’s property. They are his flora, after all. And it finally sinks in all the way, why he keeps taking wives. These women act how he wants, but he can’t carry things too far. He can’t take the ones he wants, whenever he wants. He has to wait for the Emperor to decide who he can have and when, and he has to return them alive. His wives, though… His wives belong to him.

‘Til the gods part us in death.

There are five floras today, and Ledo has invited two other esteemed Senators to join him. The breath freezes in my lungs and the whole room goes still. She bites her lip as if realizing her mistake.

The man beneath her, another Senator, grabs her chin, never stopping his punishing pace below her. “What was that, meretrix ?” he demands.

She shakes her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Nothing. Nothing, Senator.”

My nails bite into my palms until I bleed as I force myself to stay still. I don’t have enough power to intervene and if I try and fail, Ledo might hurt her worse.

Ledo makes a humming noise. A low, dangerous sound that sets my teeth on edge. He walks to her and drags her off the Senator, throwing her to the ground.

“Do you want to stop?” His voice is soft, too soft. Dangerously quiet.

She can’t answer, she’s sobbing in earnest now. The blood drips down her legs. She was only hit once, but it’s the flagrum. It’s meant to draw blood, to punish. I bite my lip, holding back a cry as Ledo sends her crashing to the floor with a vicious backhand. She falls flat, her cheek embraced by the marble as if they are as familiar as lovers.

“Do you want to stop?” he says again, yanking her up by her hair.

“No, Praetor,” she manages to sob out.

“Silence?” I think he’s asking for us to be silent at first, until one of the floras comes forward. She’s been kneeling at the edge of the room since I arrived, apparently not needed yet. “Show her what happens to sabines who can’t keep their mouth shut.”

The flora turns red, but opens her mouth wide. She has no teeth. Not one.

I’ve never heard of irrumatio being done to a woman, and my stomach turns. The practice itself a vile concoction created during war, but to see it here, next to the pristine marble floors and tapestries of excess wealth and comfort is even more jarring.

I stand on instinct, the sight so unsettling that my legs move of their own accord, trying to flee. Ledo sees, and he removes himself from the floras quickly, coming to stand before me. He’s covered in them. Their saliva, their blood. I sway as I meet his eyes, the blood leaving me in a rush.

“May I have some water, Praetor?” The excuse falls from my lips, an attempt to distract him, or me, or the other Senators.

Ledo narrows his eyes. He snaps at one of the nearby attendants who rushes over with a glass. “Thank you,” I whisper as I take it. I sit back down, slowly. Ledo stares down at me, his erection now very close.

“Make sure you take care of yourself, Skylar. It’s going to be a long night.”

Because today is our wedding.

He returns to his demonstration, taking the woman who begged for them to stop and tying her arms behind her back before he and the other two Senators resume using her body simultaneously. Tears prick my eyes. I don’t want to see, but at least he's forgotten about the flagrum for now.

I bite my cheek and look at the remaining floras. They were ordered to pleasure each other, which I imagine is a welcome break. One pair of floras is kissing deeply, their hands gentle in stark contrast to the mens', soft and seeking instead of punishing. The women in the other pair are tasting each other, their breaths coming in bursts of ecstasy instead of pain.

The contrast of it all makes my head spin but I don’t look away. I can’t, because Ledo meets my eyes periodically as he abuses the bound flora, reminding me that nothing is off limits to him. My eyes are open, and perhaps I’m even watching, but it doesn’t register. The grunts of pain and pleasure, the warm afternoon air moving through the atrium, the tang of tears, it all surrounds me.

Or rather, surrounds Skyler. Because I can’t be here. I can’t see this or know this or survive this.

But I must. If she can, I must.

When it’s over, Ledo turns and leaves without a word. I don’t move. The flora and the Senators follow shortly after him until I am all alone in the fountain room. The sound of dripping water feels garish after what just transpired here. ‘Please, stop,’ seems to echo around the room, mocking me, reminding me why I’m here.

I can’t stumble now, because if everything goes according to plan tonight, these will be the last women Ledo ever harms.

I sign the contract, and then we feast. It’s a loud, riotous affair. The Emperor attends and his familiar golden visage is made dimmer somehow by the redder hair, broader chest, and taller build of Cassius at his side. Ledo is to the Emperor’s other side, and I am next to Ledo.

This wedding dress is the most daring I’ve worn yet. The back and front are matching v’s, dipping to my low back and my navel. The thin white cloth barely covers my breasts before gathering into a belt at my waist and draping to the floor. I hate it, but that is to be expected when Ledo chooses something.

“Perhaps I shall wed, soon,” the Emperor muses to Ledo, who laughs. His voice spikes my heart rate, and I focus on my breathing, refusing to look at him.

“You do need an heir,” he agrees. "Perhaps it’s best to look after the upcoming rites.”

“Perhaps I shall wed, too,” Cassius says, but he’s not looking at the Emperor, either. He’s looking at me. I narrow my eyes.

The golden Emperor turns to him, his smile anything but kind. “That seems a waste, since you are not allowed to have children.” I’d forgotten about that. Only the Emperor may bear children. In theory it’s to prevent rivalry for the throne, even though imperial siblings have killed one another anyways. But it seems the Emperor and the Dominus play their own kind of game.

Cassius shrugs. “That’s not all wives are good for.”

Ledo slips his hand under the table, placing it on my upper thigh, exposed from the high slits in the dress. At first, it’s almost comforting, like he’s trying to protect me. Then he moves his hand in, towards my center. My muscles tighten, pressing my knees together. “I agree,” Ledo says. I think he will stop now, but instead he reaches as high as he can with my legs so tight and pinches the sensitive skin of my thighs. Hard.

Tears spring to my eyes at the tender flesh, an area so rarely exposed, being twisted. I exhale slowly, and when Ledo moves his hand up again, I open my legs, ever the obedient wife. He hums a sound of approval that makes my cheeks flame in rage, but I will contain it.

I will not ruin my own plan.

Ledo continues his ministrations beneath the table, conversing with Cassius and the Emperor as if I’m not there. His arm moves across my lap so that it’s obvious what he’s doing, but no one speaks of it. If anything, the people further down the table smile at me, as if I am so blessed by such an attentive husband. I bite the inside of my lip and look to my plate. I feel Cassius looking at me and a true wave of embarrassment washes through me, quickly replaced again by the rage. If it wasn’t me, it would be someone else. Earlier it had been. Now it was my turn.

Of course I am not enjoying myself, but I clench my inner walls and make my breaths come a little faster. I let Ledo think he’s affecting anything other than my level of nausea.

He leans over. “Not yet, wife,” he whispers and withdraws his hand. I almost choke on his presumption. Careful. I must be so careful now that I am this close. The blood spilled today, the violence, it was all wrong, and my nerves are frayed thin.

The blood coating the floors of the Domus Aurea shouldn’t belong to the floras.

It should always be them . Ledo. The Emperor. The Senators and Praetors.

I let a small whimper release, as if I am disappointed. Ledo grins. Cassius glares. The Emperor snaps for a flora to attend him as though the show was just what he needed.

And I wait patiently in the center of the web I’ve woven.