A loud knocking told me it was time for dinner. One by one we crawled out of our chambers.

“Where were you all day?” Julia asked me with a suspicious tone.

“I spent the day with the queen,” I answered while suppressing a yawn.

“Oh,” she replied frowning, but said nothing more.

We descended the stairs to the bottom floor where Atrius was already waiting for us. He courteously escorted us to the dining hall. Again, the food was already served and most of the court seated. Like the evening before I sat down next to the queen. The king appeared euphoric and as soon as Tiberius and Julia sat down, he started chatting them up. The queen on the other hand seemed tired.

“Are you alright?” I asked her with a concerned voice.

“I have trouble breathing.”

“Can I do anything?”

“Oh, Antonius, you’ve done plenty, thank you. But please forgive me, I’m not up for chatter. I shall retreat to my quarters soon.”

“You do that, and rest.”

“Oh, we’ll see if I get any rest tonight. I have a meeting with your gods, or whatever they are,” she winked at me and then sighed. And true enough, she soon excused herself and went to her room. By the time jesters arrived almost all the court were already drunk, the king included. I noticed Tiberius getting restless. I heard him say:

“King Orpheus, when are we going to talk? We leave tomorrow.”

“Oh, no worries, my Lord! I will be awake before you, you can count on that! We’ll talk in the morning! Relax! Tonight is about celebration!”

“Celebration of what exactly?” Julia asked with a mocking voice.

“Life!” answered the King. “You’re the Lord, I’m the King! The gods favor us! Life ain’t bad! So out of duty to our good fortune, we must celebrate!”

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He then stood from his chair and the rest of his court followed his lead. We Vetulonians, partly out of spite, remained in our chairs. Our defiance didn’t bother him one bit. He raised his cup above his head and howled, at first with a low voice that steadily went higher and higher:

“Ooooooooooooooooh!”

Then suddenly they all drank the wine from their cups in two or three gulps, laughing at each other when finished.

I glanced towards Otho and he looked back at me, rolling his eyes. I then stood up and went out to the courtyard to smoke. It was cold outside, colder than the days before. While smoking I thought of Antonia and wondered what she was up to. Then I remembered Nicola and how I promised I’d write to her. So after smoking the stick I went to my room and wrote a letter. When finished I rolled the scroll and tied it with a string. I intended to give the letter to the queen in the morning, so she could mail it for me.

I slept well, that is until I was awoken once again by loud knocks. It was still dark outside. I stumbled towards the door and opened them. It was Tiberius.

“Get your things, it’s time to leave.”

I grabbed my clothes, papers, the wooden box always stacked with tobacco sticks, the lens and threw everything into my traveling bag. I was the last one to appear in the downstairs hallway.

“So, that’s it? We’re going?” asked Cecilia and yawned.

“Yes, there’s no sense in dwelling in this wretched place. Time to move on,” answered Julia instead of Tiberius.

“But we hadn’t had a chance to talk with the king,” Cecilia insisted.

“The king said we would talk in the morning. The king also said he’d be up before us. And the king is sleeping. Hence, we’re going,” Tiberius barked.

We stepped outside to the courtyard. Everyone was still sleeping, even the guards on the walls. I was regretful I didn’t get to say goodbye to the queen and hand her the letter for Nicola. I glanced towards the window of her room. The shutters were closed.

“I hope in your last days you find some peace, my queen,” I whispered with closed eyes.

The legionaries had already dismantled their camp and were waiting for us.

“Anything to report?” Tiberius asked the commander whose name I don’t recall.

“No, my Lord.”

“Good.”

There was certain disappointment in his voice, perhaps even sorrow. We climbed on our horses and rode to the head on the line. And so we left, silently as phantoms, without saying goodbye.