Page 97 of Taming the Eagle
When the emperor eventually spoke, his voice was a drawl. “You certainly have balls, Aquila … I always liked that about you.” He paused then, his gaze spearing Justin’s. “I’m swayed, I must admit, but if I agree to this, it might set a precedent. I don’t wish to encourage others to take savages as wives.”
Justin sucked in a deep breath. “You might, Imperator, for I have a second favor to ask of you. One of my officers, Marcus Camillus, also wishes to wed a former slave … a woman of Numidia. Like me, Camillus has given his life to serving Rome.” He continued to hold Hadrian’s eye. “Webothask for your blessing.”
Biting her bottom lip, Fenella attempted, for the fourth time, to adjust the palla—a long rectangular shawl—about her head and shoulders.
“Why can’t I get the hang of this?” she muttered as it slipped off her head.
“Here.” Kahina stepped up, her mouth curving in amusement. “Let me help.”
The two women stood in the commander’s cubiculum—the room Fenella would share with Justin once they were wed. She’d only been at Vindolanda a day, but before traveling west in search of the emperor, Justin had gone into the vicus and bought her new clothing.
It was early evening, and Fenella wore a long, ankle-length tunic and a stola—a lovely sleeveless, high-waisted dress fastened to her shoulders with clasps.
Kahina had been trying to show her how to wear the voluminous shawl for outdoors, but Fenella was struggling. She wasn’t used to so many layers of clothing.
Wrapping the palla about Fenella in deft movements, Kahina then stepped back, smiling as she viewed her work. “There,” she murmured. “You look beautiful, Fen.”
Fenella’s cheeks warmed under the praise. “Thank you,” she replied, returning her friend’s smile. “As do you.”
She wasn’t exaggerating either. Like her, Kahina wore a stola. It was the color of amber, a hue that complemented Kahina’s coppery skin. Her dark, curly hair was loose, falling over her bare shoulders. Her face shone with happiness this afternoon.
With a sigh, Fenella unwrapped the palla and glanced down at her own dress. It was a deep blue, the color of the sky after sunset before the moon rose.
Kahina had told her it matched her eyes.
It was a bit premature to don the garments, for neither of them was yet a wedded woman. But soon they wouldn’t go about wearing tunics any longer—for they would be Roman ladies.
Unease prickled Fenella’s skin then, drawing her attention from their new garments.
Only if Justin can convince the emperor.
The magistrates had denied them, and although Justin had vowed he’d do whatever was necessary to gain permission for the weddings to take place, Fenella worried nonetheless. Nothing had been easy for her and Justin—and she didn’t expect the gods to shine on them now either.
“What’s wrong?” Kahina asked, her smile fading. “Don’t you like your new clothes?”
Fenella huffed. “I like them well enough,” she replied, draping the shawl over a stand, “although I’m likely to trip with all this fabric around my legs.”
“So, why the furrowed brow?”
“Justin will have met with Hadrian by now,” Fenella replied, smoothing the fabric around her hips. “I worry about how things have gone.”
Kahina’s hand fastened around her arm, and Fenella glanced up to see her friend watching her. “You need to have faith in him, Fen,” she replied, her lips curving once more. “Justin Aquila isn’t a man to give up easily.”
“Well said, Kahina.”
A man’s voice intruded, and both women spun around to see Justin standing in the doorway. Dust covered his clothing, and his tanned skin glowed with sweat. However, he was smiling as he leaned against the doorframe and folded his arms across his chest.
Fenella’s belly swooped. “Justin!”
“How did it go?” Kahina gasped, her hand tightening around Fenella’s arm. It seemed that her friend was more nervous than she’d let on.
“The emperor has given us permission to wed,” he replied. “Allof us.”
Kahina squealed with delight. “Does Marcus know?”
Justin’s smile widened. “Not yet … I thought you’d like to be the one to tell him.”
Kahina nodded, let go of Fenella’s arm, and made for the door. Justin stepped aside to let her go. But she paused, reached out, and grabbed his hand. “Thank you so much, Aquila. I will never forget this.”