Page 50 of Ensnaring the Dove
Colombia swallowed. “When I marry, I want it to be for love,pater.”
He stared back at her, a shadow rippling over his face before he shook his head. “Your head is full of foolish notions,” he muttered. “Marriage has nothing to do with love … it’s an arrangement.”
“But you lovedmater,” she shot back.
Severus jolted, and she knew she’d hit a nerve. Her parents had been devoted to each other—so much so that her father hadn’t remarried in the twelve years since his wife’s death. “I did,” he admitted roughly, “but not right away. We were strangers to each other in the beginning.” His frown deepened then. “Real love doesn’t happen overnight. It has to grow, like the roots of a tall oak.”
“I understand,” Colombia replied. And she did now. Her time with Aedan had lifted the rose-tinted veil from her eyes. Was it any surprise she’d broken things off with Linus after being reunited with him? The reality of the man could never live up to the image she’d painted in her mind. “But I could never love Linus. As soon as you left us alone … and we spoke privately … I realized we’d be miserable together.”
Of course, her decision was far more complex than the explanation she’d given her father—the problem was that Linus couldn’t hold a candle to Aedan.
The realization made her throat start to ache.
Gods, she couldn’t believe she’d never see him again.
Her father surveyed her a moment before slowly lowering his calix to the table between them. “So, what now, daughter? You picked a poor time to arrive at the Wall. The attack on our supply convoy … and the robbery of our pay wagons … has left us vulnerable. I can’t spare the men at present to escort you home.”
Colombia’s pulse quickened. His admission was a relief. After such a long journey north, she wasn’t ready to set out for Italia so soon. She’d spent so little time with her father over the years, she didn’t want to say goodbye to him yet. Leaning forward, she continued to hold his eye. “Then let me stay awhile please,pater.” A muscle flexed in his jaw, yet she pressed on. “I shall help manage your household … I will make myself useful and won’t get underfoot. I promise.”
Father and daughter stared at each other a long moment before Severus Juventus murmured another oath, raking a hand through his short hair. “Damn it, Colombia. You look so much like your mother … but you’re as stubborn as a boar.”
A smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “Materalways said I took after you.”
The commander snorted. However, he didn’t deny her words. Leaning back in his recliner, he huffed a deep sigh. “Very well … you can stay on until the spring.”
XXI. LETTING THE PAST LIE
“WE’RE LOWER ON olive oil than I thought,” Colombia noted, peering into the last clay urn sitting on the larder floor. “This is barely half-full.”
“Really? I thought there would be enough to last us until Saturnalia,” Claudia replied, her voice tight.
Colombia glanced over her shoulder at where the cook hovered in the doorway leading out into the kitchen. Over the past month she’d been in Onnum, she regularly met with Claudia to plan meals and check the stores. After the attack on the supply convoy, the cook had done her best to conserve food, yet she couldn’t work miracles.
Claudia’s thin face was strained this morning, her gaze flicking around the empty shelves within the larder.
Unfortunately, olive oil wasn’t the only thing they were running out of. Everything that couldn’t be easily sourced locally—dried fruits, wine, and spices—was dwindling. They were also down to their last two sacks of spelt—concerning indeed, for Claudia ground the grain for bread and pastries.
Colombia sighed. “It looks like the next couple of months are going to be very lean.”
Claudia’s brow furrowed. “Saturnalia … and the next supply delivery … can’t come soon enough,” she grumbled.
The two women returned to the kitchen, where the toothsome aroma of simmering boar stew greeted them. Usually, Claudiawould have added a little clove and dried fruit to the dish, yet she wouldn’t today. Nonetheless, it still smelled delicious. Claudia could do much with very little.
Picking up her wax tablet and sharp stylus, Colombia started scratching out notes to herself, a reminder of what they needed to conserve. “Father warned me yesterday that the principia’s strongroom is nearly empty,” she told the cook. “We need to cut back on our food shopping and economize … will that stew do for two days?”
Turning from where she’d been adding some chopped rosemary to the cauldron, Claudia’s brow furrowed. “I suppose so … if I bulk it out with carrots and onions.” She paused then, biting her lower lip. “But I don’t usually serve the commander the same meal twice in a row. What if it displeases him?”
Colombia gave a soft snort. “The commander knows we have to tighten our belts. Don’t worry, he’ll understand.”
Claudia’s thin shoulders visibly relaxed at this assurance. She then flashed Colombia a grateful smile. “He seems more at ease since your arrival, my lady … even if he’s been a bit stressed of late, what with his men demanding their pay.”
Surprised by the cook’s candor, for Claudia was usually painfully formal with her, Colombia smiled back. “It’s good to be able to spend time withpateragain,” she admitted. “He took this posting less than six months after my mother died, and I’ve barely seen him since.”
“He’s dedicated to his service to the empire,” Claudia murmured. “But I’ve always wondered why he hasn’t remarried.”
Colombia caught the curiosity in Claudia’s voice and sensed that the cook had many unanswered questions about the man she served. Severus must have appeared an enigma to many in this fort. He was self-contained, and when he wasn’t working, he did little socializing.
“I too have wondered that,” Colombia replied with a half-smile. “I’ll have to ask him why one of these days.”