“Where’s Graybeard? He was supposed to meet me here half an hour ago…” 

Livia lied alone in the silence of her private garden, her white dress flowed over the perfectly-maintained grass.  Bright afternoon sunlight streaked onto her face, pouring from between the impossibly huge buildings to her West. Livia was sprawled out on her back, her knees folded upward. Without looking, she plucked a small flower from the ground. It looked like a truly small and delicate thing in he hands, which were small for her size yet nonetheless giant. Yet as she tried to pick up the flower, she found its soft petals crushed into a thin dust between her fingers. 

The Princess felt a vague unease. She had told her slaves and servants to wait in her bedroom, so she could be alone with her thoughts. Worry had taken hold of her, and anxious thoughts ran through her mind. Livia wondered what happened to her boyfriend Aureus. He should have been delivered to her earlier that day, but was nowhere to be found, and she feared the worst. On top of that, this was the day of her consecration; the big ceremony was only hours away. 

It was today, on the anniversary of Juno’s ascension, that the twin princesses would be deified. In a few hours, Livia would be officially recognized as a goddess, with all the honor and power that came along with the title. The consecration was also a coming-of-age ceremony, of sorts; although she had technically been an adult for over a year, this was the first time that she would be recognized as an independent entity from her mother, and a force to be reckoned with in her own right. For the first time, she would have political power, with the responsibility and benefits that come along with it. But it wasn’t this that made Livia anxious about her coronation. It was the Julia's stories that gave her pause. And something else: The Red Spice. 

Livia had to take the red spice to initiate the ceremony. After taking the spice, she wondered, would she be able to control herself? Livia had no desire to cause bloodshed, but she had no idea how the red spice would affect her. And even if she could control herself, should she? Some of the men were sacrificing themselves to her willingly. Was it wrong to accept their sacrifice, if doing so would help her become the giantess that she had always wanted to be? ‘Perhaps I could just have one or two of them,’ she thought, ‘and only if they offer themselves to me willingly. I just don’t want to be a monster, like Julia, or Cybele, or those other noblewoman…’

Livia’s thoughts were suddenly brought back to the world as she heard a rustling in the bushes behind her. “Graybeard,” she called out, “is that you?” 

She heard no response. Livia heard the bushes rustling again. She turned around just quick enough to see a full – sized tiger charging at her. Before she could react, the tiger pounced on her, its wide paws coming down upon her chest.

“Cora! No! Get down,” Livia said. “Come on Cora, I’m not in the mood right now.” With both hands, Livia gently lifted up the tiger, which was no bigger than a dog to her. She set it in the grass to her side. Cora, a three-year-old female tiger, was Livia’s favorite pet. Cora was a sizable beast, eight feet long and weighing five hundred pounds. But to Julia, who stood eighteen feet high and weighed nearly two tons, it didn’t seem particularly large. She had been raised in captivity, and was tame, at least for tiger. To most, Cora was an intimidating beast. But Livia, she was no more frightening than a house cat.

Cora crouched in the grass beside her, eying something in the distance. Then, without warning, the tiger shot up, leaping onto a spot of grass. Cora darted about here and there playfully, stalking and pouncing about after imaginary beasts. Finally, after running about for several minutes, Cora had tired herself out. She came to a rest, lying down peacefully next to Livia. 

Cora shot up once more, charging at something on the far side of the hedgerow. This time she seemed to be chasing after something real. 

“Beast… Cora… Get off me!”

Livia recognized the voice. She stood up quickly. Her tiger had indeed found its quarry; Livia’s old servant, Graybeard. The tiger had tackled him, and was now lying on top of the frightened old man. 

Livia yelled at her tiger. “Cora, get off!” The tiger looked back at her, a guilty look in its eyes, and then sprinted off into the distance. Livia ran over to Graybeard, who looked shaken, if not physically hurt. Livia kneeled down next to Graybeard, and gently lifted him up, cradling him in her big arms. To her, his body weighed nearly nothing; it was like holding up a small child, and a slender one at that. 

“I’m so sorry, Graybeard! Are you okay? You’re not hurt, are you?”

“It’s okay, Livia, I’ll be all right, thank you. It didn’t get me too bad that time. I do wish you’d keep Cora caged up. It’s only a matter of time until that beast hurts someone. ”

“Beast?? Cora’s no more harmful than a kitten. She would never mean to hurt you, she just gets a little bit… playful, sometimes.”

“Apparently,” Graybeard said, wiping the dirt off his sleeves. “But who am I,” he said without irony, “to criticize the decisions of a Princess?” 

“Graybeard, where is Aureus?”

“You mean he’s not with you? He should’ve been sent to you hours ago, in the Coliseum.”

“So you don’t know, either? You were the one who was supposed to take care of this! Where is he?”

“I’m sorry, your grace, I’m afraid I know no more than yourself. I saw to it that he would be sent to you… Perhaps there was some mistake?”

“Mistake? My love disappears from the face of the earth, and you call it a mistake? He was under your protection. You promised you’d get him to me safely.” Livia stared into the distance.

 “I’m sorry, your grace. Discipline me however you wish. I’ve failed you.”

Livia stood quietly for a moment, before suddenly looking back down at Graybeard. “Then make it right. I have no desire to punish you. I had you do this because you’re the only one I know that I can trust. Find out what happened to him.” 

“Of course, your grace. It was one of the slave overseers that delivered him, a rather capable and intimidating woman. I’ll find her as soon as I can, and ask her what happened to Aureus. Hopefully she’ll know. Is that all, your grace?”

Livia hesitated. She looked down at Graybeard. He wasn’t particularly deserving of his name: his face was clean shaven as often than not, and his hair still had more than a hint of black left in it. Graybeard was barely older than fifty. He was still strong and healthy, and had a handsome, if rather craggy face. But even so, Livia had started calling him Graybeard years ago, and the name had stuck. He was, after all, one of the oldest men that she had known. Rome was a dangerous place for men, and few managed to survive into old age. And there was something sage-like about his manner, and his voice, that made him seem older than he truly was.

“Graybeard… I had some questions, about the ceremony. I've heard stories from Julia. I know I’m supposed to take the spice, and…”

“You don’t want to hurt anybody. Of course not, your grace. You’ve always had a tender heart. So unlike your mother, and your sister, and one of the things I respect most about you.”

“But?”

“Well, your grace… It’s a good thing for most to be tenderhearted. But you are not most. You are a Princess. Soon you will be a goddess, and one day you may be the Empress. And for an Empress, a soft heart is kin to weakness.”

“Are you saying I should be cruel or uncaring, like my family?”

“Not cruel, your grace, and not uncaring, exactly… But you must be strong. You must do whatever is best for yourself, in the Empire, and your family. Your compassion will make the people love you, but it will take more than that to make them respect you. It will take strength… And you must do whatever you can to get that strength.”

“So I should kill innocent men, if it will help me become a giantess?”

“Unless you want to see your sister become Empress instead of you, I’m afraid you have little choice. At the very least, you must drink of the red spice to complete the ceremony and become a goddess. And once the spice overcomes you…”

“Perhaps it won’t. Perhaps I’ll be able to control myself.”

“Perhaps. But I’ve been around Rome for a long time. I’ve known other noblewoman, kindhearted like you, who said they’d be able to resist the temptation… But then they drink of the spice wine, and their newfound appetites overtake them. 

Livia shot him an annoyed glance. “So that’s your advice? Just squash a few dozen men like bugs, if that’s what it takes to become a giantess."

“I know you’re not fond of the idea. In the end, I it’s your choice. But if you don’t drink the spicewine, you will never become a goddess, or a true giantess… And that means you’ll never be the Empress. I’ve spent much of my life teaching  you. You have what it takes to become a great leader. I can see it within you. Is it worth throwing all that away, just to save the lives of a few slaves?”

“ I don’t know. I really don’t.” 

“What’s more, they may not mind it so much. It’s considered a great honor to die in sacrifice to a goddess. Some of the men have sacrificed themselves willingly.”

“And the rest?”

“Well… Less willingly, I’m afraid. But if you’ll excuse me saying so, your highness, you’ve grown to be quite the beautiful woman. If a man has to go, even if he’s not the sort to be concerned with honor… there are far worse ways for a man to die, than under the foot of a goddess. Especially one as lovely as yourself.”

Livia kneeled down, and gently set Graybeard upon the grass. He stood up, looking up at her. Livia bent over, leaning down to Graybeard. She puckered her thick lips, which were as wide as Graybeard’s face, and planted a gentle, chaste kiss on the man’s forehead.  Graybeard blushed faintly, and tried to hide his smile. On his forehead, in dark red lipstick, was an outline of Livia’s lips, moist and full and wide, stretching all the way across his temples. He looked up to Livia, who was looking down upon him. Her body stretched upward, powerful and immense. And yet her face, for all the love it conveyed, was unable to hide her inner weakness.

“You’re kind, Graybeard. Maybe you’re right. But either way, I have to decide for myself. I’ll think about it, but I really don’t know what to do, and it’s not long until the ceremony…  You’ve said all you can. Wish me luck. I’d best start getting ready. Just… Whatever you do, just find him.”

He did, and then he went, leaving Livia alone in her garden.