Senator Publius Scribonius Curio had left the shutter on his bedroom window open overnight, and as morning approached, the chill from the street outside slowly crept into the darkened chamber. Adeia sat up in bed, her bare arms prickling with the cold. Shifting her weight gingerly, so as not to awaken her sleeping client, she leaned across his supine body, to hazard a look at the sky outside. It was still dark, but being a poor judge of the time, she could not tell for how long. As she carefully pulled away, she felt Publius stirring beside her. She stopped, watching as he rolled over, after which the stillness reclaimed him. So, he was still asleep. Adeia would have it that way, for another few hours at least. She did not know what more he might want on awakening.
Adeia was often intensely critical of her clients. Publius, for example, was weak-willed, and consequently too fearful to ever commit to any one side of an argument. In general, he was swayed by the opinions of the majority, having too little opinion of his own. In Adeia’s own opinion, this was a grave shortcoming for a senator. Yet it was Publius’ reluctant nature which had led her back to him, after several years of serving far more illustrious and powerful patrons. Many of her benefactors, in later years especially, had been men who had gained their influence by backing the Dictator. Once the old regime had collapsed, and those loyal to the dictatorship fled, Adeia had been left stranded. As a hetaira, much of her reputation was built upon the names of her previous clients. Now that their names had been sullied, so was hers.
She had sought out Publius soon after the Dictator’s demise. It had been greatly wounding to her pride to return to this insignificant and ineffective fool, but her lifestyle was an expensive one, and it was crucial that she found herself new allies. And Publius, ironically, had been one of the few among her clientele who had not evaporated after the balance of power swung in the opposite direction. Adeia had accepted some time ago that even she, the most adaptable of women, might never recover from this whim of Fortuna’s.
She lay back down, shutting her eyes and waiting for sleep to return impatiently. But it did not come. Adeia gritted her teeth, trying to clear her mind of fearful thoughts...such as being attached to Publius for the rest of eternity. The most appalling part of the situation was that he was perfectly aware of the seriousness of her state, quite conscious of the extent to which she was dependent on him. He must have been bitter that she had spurned him, though politely, a little over a year ago. There had been more illustrious men waiting on her company then. Did he think that Fortuna had done justice by turning the scales on her?
Adeia glanced at Publius disparagingly. No, he was too great a fool to remain angry with her. Ordinarily, she would have encouraged a client’s affections as much as she could, but Publius was besotted with her. It was so easy to lead him that she hardly thought it worth her time—she longed for a more challenging man, one who was more accustomed to having his way.
As she forced the thoughts away, she realised that she had sat up again. She had not been so careful to keep her movements shallow this time, and she saw the senator stir again, but this time into wakefulness.
“You are awake?” he asked redundantly, his voice raspy with sleep.
Adeia, feeling her spine rigid with irritation, shut her eyes and tried to compose herself. Publius was a forbearing fool, but still she could not take any chances with terse behaviour. After barely a moment, she leaned towards him, taking his bony hand in hers. She heaved an affected sigh.
“Dearest, I have been unable to sleep all night,” she complained, knowing that Publius liked to comfort her. Adeia knew it was born of his desire to exert his influence over something, anything, even if it was nothing more than an unhappy woman.
It was too dark to be certain, but Adeia was sure that his face fell with pity. He moved her hand to his lips, before stroking it devotedly. “My poor girl. Come, I will hold you until you fall asleep.”
Knowing that he could not see her, Adeia narrowed her eyes. This was really the last thing she wanted, but she would indulge Publius, if he wished it. “Thank you, dearest. I know I will sleep better with your arms around me.”
As they lay together, Adeia wondered if he was truly so naive to think that she, one of the most desired hetairai in Rome, could possibly be honest when she called him her dearest.
