Chapter 36: Dinner with the Enemy
True to her forced word, Lucilla made the arrangements. Her methods were as swift as they were resentful. Two days later, Alex found himself being carried in an unmarked, enclosed litter through the twilight streets of Rome, not to the palace of a senator or a public official, but to a lavish, private villa on the Caelian Hill. It was neutral ground, a property owned by a wealthy merchant from Gaul who was currently away on business, a man who owed favors to both Lucilla and Sabina. It was a perfect, discreet location.
Alex had taken great care with his own appearance. He had shed the imperial purple and the military armor. He wore a simple but immaculately tailored dark grey toga, the kind worn by a private citizen of immense wealth and status. He was not here as the Emperor. He was here as a man, attempting to meet a formidable woman on her own terms. It was a strategic choice, but as he entered the villa's candlelit triclinium—the formal dining room—he realized it was also a necessary one.
Sabina was already there, reclining on a dining couch, a goblet of wine in her hand. She was stunning. Dressed in a stola of deep emerald green that complimented her fiery hair, she looked less like an actress and more like a queen in her own court. She regarded him with a cool, appraising amusement as he entered.
"Caesar," she said, her voice a low, melodic purr. "I confess my surprise. When your sister extended the invitation, I assumed it was some new, elaborate trap. I did not actually expect you to come."
"And yet, here I am," Alex replied, taking his place on the couch opposite hers. Servants moved silently, filling his goblet and placing small plates of olives, cheese, and spiced nuts between them. "I was told you considered our last conversation... unfinished."
"I considered you a tyrant in the making," she corrected him with a wry smile. "A subtle but important distinction."
"And now?"
"Now," she said, taking a slow sip of wine, her green eyes watching him over the rim of the cup, "I am intensely curious. The man who strong-arms his own sister into arranging a dinner party for him is either supremely arrogant or supremely desperate. I am trying to decide which you are."
Her directness was as disarming as it had been at the temple. He decided to meet it not with threats or imperial authority, but with an honesty he had shown to no one else in this world.
"Perhaps I am a little of both," he admitted. He looked at her directly. "You accused me of playing the same dirty games as my enemies. You were right. My methods in dealing with my sister were... harsh. But I need you to understand why."