The twins stood next to each other and the torch lit chamber. They wore the same matching dresses, made of the same white silk, with the same plunging necklines. Their long hair was done up in the same elaborate braids, which wrapped around their foreheads and ears. Their lips were painted the same deep tone of red, their eyes accented with the same black-violet eyeliner. They had the same slaves attending to them, cleaning their bare feet and making last-minute changes to the hew of their long dresses, slaves who looked no larger than dolls next to their masters. They were both stunningly beautiful. And yet they looked nothing alike.
Livia stood tensely, staring at the ground and fidgeting with a strand of her long blonde hair. After a moment she stopped fidgeting, then started again, tussling with her curled hair, which danced lightly on the top of her wide bosom. Julia, meanwhile, looked confident and eager. She stood with her hips flared to one side, one hand playfully poised on the side of her thin, athletic hips. Julia cocked her head slightly to the side, and side of her lips curled subtly upward in a wicked smile. She looked down at her sister Livia, who looked as small as a child next her, and asked her a question.
“So, are you looking forward to this?”
Livia didn’t respond, or give the question any thought; she didn’t feel like arguing with her sister now, and she had more than enough on her mind already.
“I know I am. You should look so glum, sister. It’s not every day you become a goddess. Are you feeling sad, because you might have to hurt some poor little people? Do you not want to get blood on your pretty little dress? Well I’m sorry to have to tell you, sister, but that white silk is going to be red by the time you’re done today. At least, it is if you want to become a goddess. And you do want to become a goddess, right?” Julia said, looking down at her sister. Livia crossed her arms below her breasts and turned away, feigning disinterest. This only encouraged Julia.
“Then again,” Julia said, “I suppose you don’t have to try the spice after all. If you want to be a fifteen-foot tall runt for the rest of your life, it’s your choice. More Spice for me, after all. I wonder how tall I’ll get? And if you didn’t complete the ceremony, that would mean that you don’t want to be considered as the next heir to the throne. That’s perfectly fine by me as well. But I know you. You’re ambitious, in your own little way. You want to be a kind, gentle, merciful ruler, always watching your step to make sure that you don’t accidentally step on some poor little bug,” As she said ‘bug,’ Julia glanced down at one of her slaves, who was on his hands and knees, washing the sides of her feet.
“Well, I think you see where I’m going with this. You’re smart. You always been more fond of books that I have. So you must see that this is one of those … What’s that word you like to use… Paradoxes? You can obey your principles and be kind and gentle; refuse to drink the spice, and be careful not to harm a single hair on your slaves’ heads. Which would mean that you’ll always be the family runt, and I’ll become the next Empress. And I think we both know exactly how ‘gentle’ I’ll be to those ingrates,” she said with a particularly wicked smile.
“Or,” continued Julia, “you can compromise your morals, just this once. Go ahead and sip some spicewine, bite the heads off a few slaves, and spill some red blood on your pure little white silk dress. In other words, enjoy yourself; after all, this is a special occasion, isn’t it? If you do that, who knows: maybe you even become the next Empress. And then you could free all the slaves, and everyone would live oh so happily ever after, like in some wet nurse’s story. Except, of course, for those unfortunate slaves that you had your way with on that fateful night of your coronation. But what’s a few lives ended, if so many more can be saved? You can’t make an omelet without cracking a few skulls now and again, can you?
‘If you were smart, and strong, you’d do it. Sacrifice a few slaves, so that you might one day free them all. Become a goddess all costs, for the good of the little people. You’ve always cared so much about those dirty little helots, after all, so much more than you ever cared about your real family.
‘But there’s one more little piece of the puzzle, and I’m sure the gears in your bright little head have been turning and turning, trying to figure this one out. What if you try that first sip of spicewine, and you happen to like it? What if you start to crave it, day and night, just like Cybele and Juno and Scarlett, and everyone else who tries the red spice?
‘And that’s not the only thing you’ll get a craving for. Believe me when I tell you, domination can be so terribly addictive.” Once more, Julia looked down at the tiny slave who was washing her feet. She slowly lifted her foot up above his tiny body. The slaves looked up, aware of the danger but too frightened to move.
“Power. It’s a fine taste, and one that you’ll acquire soon enough.”