The time was very te, the night stretching long and still, like a canvas of bckness waiting to be filled.

  The air was cool, yet heavy, thick with the scent of moist earth after rain.

  It clung to Agrippina's whole being, like a damp shroud, mingling with the distant tang of the Tiber river.

  The river's gentle flow was a reminder of the city's lifeblood, its soft gurgling seeming to breathe secrets of its own, concealing the tension in the air.

  The moon, now a crescent in the dark sky, indicated that the rain would not fall for the rest of the night, despite being in season.

  It cast an eerie glow over the Roman streets, its pale light twisting silhouettes into living things.

  Agrippina's footsteps broke the silence, her heels tapping rhythmically on the rough cobblestones.

  The flickering fmes of the torches cast ghostly outlines along the walls, and every whisper of the wind seemed to echo with the city's unspoken secrets.

  She felt like an intrusion into the quiet, dark world of Rome, where every stone seemed to hold a mystery.

  Agrippina had just left the Mausoleum Augusti, where she had id her husband's ashes to rest alongside the former emperor's sarcophagi and the imposing stone monuments of Rome's imperial family.

  The weight of grief still gnawed at her chest, a relentless ache that matched the darkness surrounding her.

  As she walked, the fine wool of her husband's cape, a gift from her mother-in-w Antonia, settled over her frame like a weight, its fibers soft yet thick with the memory of his presence.

  The scent of him lingered in the fabric, faint but undeniable, a cruel comfort.

  Everywhere she passes by, there sparks a flurry of whispers and rumors among the plebeians—rumors of betrayal, of a throne denied to her husband.

  Every corner she turned to, held a story—that her husband is sent to Antioch to deprive him of his birthright.

  It's affecting Agrippina's state of mind.

  The commoners are predicting that these schemes are devised by someone who holds the highest power.

  Hidden truths waiting to escape

  Her stomach twisted with distrust, and the familiar gnawing sensation deepened with each passing moment.

  She couldn't shake the feeling that her husband's death was no accident, but something darker, more deliberate.

  Accompanied by her vilici, two mancipia acting as her guards, and three female servis holding firebrands, Agrippina moved with purpose.

  The night air pressed against her skin as her thoughts turned more turbulent with each step.

  Tiberius's praetorian guards had captured Piso, the governor of Syria, accused of poisoning Germanicus.

  Agrippina's stomach churned.

  Poison? Why didn't the healer know what ailed her husband back then in Syria? How could they not have noticed?

  Poison? Was it truly him? Could they be certain? What were they hiding? And what role had Tiberius pyed in this treachery?

  The nagging suspicion in her gut only deepened. Rumors pointed to Tiberius, but without proof, they were just smoke.

  Yet, if there was smoke, could there not be fire?

  She quickened her pace, her sves close behind, and her mind spiraled with questions.

  She had confronted Cudius earlier, and his hesitant answers had only fueled her suspicions.

  Agrippina stopped abruptly, her servants halting behind her without question.

  A fleeting thought crossed her mind, but she dismissed it quickly—there was no time to dwell on it now.

  She had to confirm what she feared. Her body turned right, changing her course, her sves following suit.

  They eyed each other, unaware of Agrippina's thoughts growing more extreme.

  With a sudden change in direction, she marched toward the forum Romanum, her footsteps sharp and precise as she approached the looming Tullianum prison.

  The air grew colder as she neared the entrance, the stone walls absorbing the light from the torches, casting long shadows.

  A lone guard wearing his armatura militaris stepped forward, blocking her path.

  "Stop right there, woman," he growled, raising his hand.

  Agrippina's gaze narrowed, her eyes fshing with cold fury. She stood unmoving, her will as firm as the stone beneath her feet.

  The vilici moved forward, his voice low and menacing. "Don't you realize who you're talking to?"

  The guard hesitated, his eyes flicking nervously. He raised a mp to illuminate Agrippina's face, his movements betraying his uncertainty.

  The guard's eyes widened, and he gulped, realizing who stood before him. With a reluctant nod, the guard stepped aside, bowing slightly.

  "Proceed, matrona Agrippina." As Agrippina entered the prison, the darkness seemed to consume her every time she stepped down the stairs.

  Some rats scurried, disturbed by the sudden interruption of their party.

  The air thickened with the stench of decay and mold, the silence pressing in around her like a heavy bnket.

  Finally, they reached the cell where Piso was supposed to be held.

  But to her shock, it was empty. "Where is he?" Agrippina demanded, her voice sharp with anger.

  The guard shifted nervously. "I apologize, matrona," he muttered, his voice faltering.

  "The governor is being held in the patium."

  "In the patium?" Agrippina's eyes narrowed, suspicion flooding her veins.

  "Why?"

  The guard hesitated, looking for the right words. "Orders from above," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

  A silence fell between them, thick with tension. Agrippina's anger simmered just beneath the surface.

  "His trial is set for dawn," the guard added, as though offering some expnation, but it only deepened her unease.

  She turned away sharply, her heart burning with a desire for justice.

  Something about the rush, the secrecy of the trial—there was something they were hiding.

  With a final gnce at the guard, Agrippina spoke coldly, "Thank you for telling me."

  As she left the prison, her thoughts burned with a growing sense of unease, a need for answers she could no longer ignore.

  ************************************

  Meanwhile, outside, Pncina stood just outside the entrance of the Tullianum prison, her breath shallow, her heart hammering against her ribs.

  She had arrived earlier, hoping to gain access to Piso's cell before anyone else could, relying on her influence and charm to persuade the guard.

  But the guard refused to budge, his expression unyielding. Her irritation was palpable as she recalled her attempt to seduce the lowly prison guard.

  Earlier...

  Pncina took a slow, deliberate step forward, adjusting her white sto and tossing her hair over her shoulder, letting it spill in soft waves.

  She needed to appear unreachable, like a woman who could demand anything and get it.

  A soft smile curved her lips as she approached the guard, her voice barely above a whisper.

  "Good evening," she said in her most seductive tone, stepping into the guard's personal space, watching as his eyes flickered to her face.

  He looked uncomfortable but didn't move, his hand instinctively resting on his gdius.

  "You've got a long night ahead, don't you?" Pncina purred, her fingers brushing gently over the stone wall beside him, as though making the space between them intimate, close.

  "The prison is a lonely pce, isn't it?" He shifted on his feet, clearly uneasy, but he didn't respond.

  She tilted her head, leaning closer, eyes lowering in a soft, almost pyful gaze. "Perhaps a little company might make it more bearable," she added, letting her voice drop to a hushed, suggestive tone.

  The guard remained silent, his gaze sliding away from hers. Pncina felt a flicker of irritation twist in her chest.

  She was used to being the center of attention, used to men responding to her presence.

  But this one—this stubborn fool—remained unmoved.

  She blinked, but she didn't back away. "Come now," she coaxed, trying again, her voice a little more insistent, a little breathier.

  "You wouldn't deny me the pleasure of entering, would you?" But the guard's eyes didn't waver, his face impassive.

  "I'm afraid I cannot let you pass, matrona Pncina. Orders from above."

  The words nded like ice, instantly dousing the warmth she had tried to coax into the air.

  Her chest tightened, her pulse quickened with frustration. She was not used to being denied, especially not by someone like him.

  Back to the present...

  Pncina's fingers touched the vial of liquid secretly hidden inside her chest. But then she saw something that made her freeze.

  The unmistakable sound of footsteps echoed from the distance. Her stomach flipped.

  She looked around, trying to find the source of the footsteps. It was Agrippina.

  Her heart sank. The woman had arrived. The harlot! She felt her blood boil.

  Pncina moved into one of the deeper alcoves beside the prison, hoping to remain out of sight.

  There was a stone pilr nearby, weathered and tall, casting a long shadow in the dim moonlight. It was a perfect hiding pce.

  She pressed herself against the cold stone, holding her breath as she waited, hidden in the darkness. The chill of the night seeped into her bones, but she hardly noticed.

  Her focus was entirely on the entrance to the prison, on the faint sound of footsteps, on the flickering torchlight.

  As Agrippina approached, Pncina ducked further into the shadows, pressing her body ft against the pilr, praying the harlot wouldn't notice her.

  The sound of Agrippina's heels echoed closer, closer still, and for a moment, she dared to peek from the corner of her eye.

  Agrippina, with her commanding presence, was so sure of herself, walking ahead of her sves.

  Pncina felt like a mere shadow, insignificant, and yet she couldn't tear her eyes away.

  Her heartbeat thundered in her ears as Agrippina passed the very corner she was hiding behind. Too close.

  She stiffened, holding her breath, hoping to remain unseen. Her body tensed, every muscle frozen in pce, as she listened to the faint sound of voices.

  "Stop right there, woman," she heard the guard growl.

  "...Don't you realize who you're talking to?" Pncina's eyes narrowed at the voice of the servant, but her gaze fixed on the guard's face.

  He looked uneasy, but he didn't back down. She scoffed lightly. "Good luck persuading that stupid guard," she whispered quietly.

  But then to her amazement, the guard sidestepped and bowed slightly, allowing Agrippina entry. Pncina seethed, her anger simmering just below the surface.

  "How dare she!" she whispered. She remembered how the guard hadn't even batted an eye when he recognized her!

  She felt the injustice! But she was unable to dwell on her hurt feelings as they started to move ahead.

  When she saw them enter and the guard trail behind, her body acted without thinking. She quietly followed Agrippina into the prison, her heart pounding in her chest.

  She had to know what was going on. As they descended into the prison, Pncina's anxiety grew.

  She was in her st step on the stairs when she heard the chilling words that sent a shiver down her spine.

  "Where is he?" Agrippina demanded, sharp and furious. She's here for Piso, isn't she?

  Pncina's stomach clenched. Her body seemed to vibrate with a mixture of jealousy, fear, and growing anger.

  Agrippina's authority was unmistakable, and Pncina hated how helpless she felt. But there was no time to think about that now.

  As the conversation continued inside the prison, she took one st gnce at the corridor of the prison where Agrippina and her party are talking.

  Before retreating back up the stairs—into the shadows, her heart pounding in her chest.

  She couldn't stay here much longer. Not now. She had to find Sejanus.

  She had to understand what was happening—why hadn't he told her anything? Why was Agrippina here? Her thoughts swirled as she made a decision.

  The need for answers, the anxiety gnawing at her, drove her to act. With one st furtive gnce at the prison entrance, she turned and disappeared into the dark streets, moving quickly and quietly, her mind consumed with both fear and fury.

  She had to find Sejanus. She needed answers. She had to understand—why hadn't he told her? Why was she always the st to know? Was he pnning to leave her behind?

  She had to make sure she wasn't the one being left behind.

  ************************************

  INDEX:

  Tiber river - a river that flows all throught Rome

  vilici - sves that are skilled, know to be intelligent like butlers they oversee their master's family estate or domus

  mancipia - sves that do the hardwork usually with big strong bodies

  servi - household s ves known with their beauty

  forum Romanum - the main square of ancient Rome

  Tullianum prison - a prison in ancient Rome.