Bride of the Emperor (The Prophecy of Sisters Book 4) by Hayley Faiman (the gingerbread man read aloud txt) 📗

The sisters stand as well and they each say something short, though I don’t pay attention, my gaze focused on my mulier. I hadn’t imagined this for myself.

A complete family, my heart so full. I didn’t realize my heart was empty all of these years, but it was, completely and totally. Now it feels as though it’s going to burst through my chest.

It’s breathtaking.

When the toast is finished, I don’t let her sit back down. Instead, I reach for her, wrapping my hand around her waist and dipping my chin to touch my mouth to hers in a gentle, chaste kiss. Sinking down, I take her hand in mine and hold it tightly during the rest of the meal.

Drucilla is quiet. I don’t know what she is thinking, but I can only hope that she is happy about what I’ve done, what we’ve done. Shifting my gaze around the room, my eyes land on Marcellus and I watch as he narrows his gaze on me.

He shakes his head once, then turns back to his food and talks to Brutus who is sitting across from him. I’m sure that Marcellus isn’t thrilled about what we’ve done, but at the end of the day, it has nothing to do with him. He will not be emperor and this does not impact him, at least it won’t.

This will work and it is the will of the gods. Fate has led us to this moment and we will create a peaceful world, one that will prosper.

DRUCILLA

It’s been three days since I peed outside in the gardens on some seeds. I don’t wait for anyone to gather me and walk me down there to look. My sisters left yesterday, all demanding that I write to them with the results of the longest pregnancy test on earth.

Biting the corner of my lip, I walk down the hall and freeze at the sight in front of me. Scooting back, I can’t help but watch what’s going down. It’s Laurentia and Marcellus. He has her pressed against the wall, his mouth is on hers and he’s devouring her.

I watch as he pulls her skirts up and starts to touch her. I see the moment when she lets him, then she lifts her hands between them and pushes him away.

“No,” she whispers.

“No?” he asks, unused to the word, especially by a slave.

Except Laurentia is no longer a slave. I asked Tiberius to free her two days ago and employ her as my helper. He did and she accepted the paid position. She lives here at the domum for free as part of her compensation, her position also includes food.

“I am a free woman, Marcellus. So, no.”

He takes a step back, lifting his hand he runs his fingers through his hair and watches her for a moment.

“No,” he says, repeating the word to himself.

I’m wondering if he has ever heard the word before in his life. I watch as wordlessly, he turns from her and storms away. Then Laurentia lifts her fingers to her face and wipes at her cheeks. She takes a long-inhaled breath, then squares her shoulders and walks away.

I watch as she disappears around a corner. I can’t move, thinking about the two of them and hoping that soon they’ll get together, because it’s obvious they’re totally into one another.

Squaring my own shoulders, I hurry down the hall and toward the gardens. Looking around, I make sure that I’m alone, then sprint toward the seeded pee spots.

Sinking down to my knees, I look at the spots. I have mentally prepared myself to see absolutely nothing growing, not only is this the weirdest wives’ tale that I’ve ever heard, I highly doubt that it’s accurate at all, but then my breath hitches at the sight in front of me.

Looking over to the spots, my breath hitches. There are sprouts growing. They’re really growing. Tears fill my eyes and I decide that even if this is nothing more than a wives’ tale, it’s the best one I’ve ever seen in my entire life.

Touching the stone, I pick it up, unsure of which grain was planted where, I was just too embarrassed about peeing in front of everyone I didn’t really pay attention. Bringing the small rock up to my eyes, I look at it.

P.

Pupus.

Boy.

“I’m having a boy,” I breathe.

I don’t know what to do. My hands shake, my entire body trembles and I stare at the little pebble in my hand, then flick my gaze to the ground and stare at the sprouts growing. My lips curve up into a huge smile and I can’t stop staring.

I’m going to have a baby. I’m going to have Tiberius’ baby. My beautifully scarred warrior will have a little mini-warrior all his own.

Lifting my gaze to the sky, I can’t stop the tears from flowing down my cheeks. “Thank you,” I breathe.

I don’t know which gods and goddesses I’m thanking, maybe all of them.

Without them, without this world, I would not have my happiness, I would not have my Tiberius and this baby. I would not have a true life. He has taught me to love, though our road was not easy to travel, we have traveled nonetheless and we have done so together.

He has compromised and sacrificed for me, just as I have done for him. And the most wonderful thing about him, of all, is that he has united our family in a way that could never be done anywhere else in the universe.

I love him more than I have words to express.

I love this baby even more than that, and I can’t wait to tell him that he is going to be a father.

“Melculum,” a deep voice calls out. “Why do you sit in the garden on your knees?” he asks, his feet rushing toward me. He doesn’t hesitate to crouch down beside me and that’s when I slip the pebble into his hand.

I’m fairly certain he has no idea