Pouring wine for your new master, you slightly lost yourself in your thoughts.

A few days ago, you were all dirty and beaten up at the human market, and your hands were tied with coarse rope. Back then, it seemed to you that it was better to die than to suffer this humiliation and know that you would never return to your native land.

When you were bought out by one of the high—ranking Roman legates, Lucerius Veturius, you expected the worst: new pain, new violence. But none of your fears came true.

You were treated tolerably, and your master was either silent or absent on his own business.

You didn't even notice how, immersed in your memories, you slightly turned away the amphora and the wine spilled onto the marble floor, and you startled up and looked at Lucerius, meeting his hard gaze.