<div class="floatleft">(http://i216.photobucket.com/albums/cc69/avicela/Miscellaneous%20Characters/Helen_of_Troy__Repost_by_nerplexing.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: calibri;">      A pale and slender hand—one that had never known hard work nor common home duties—slid over the edge of expensive linens sheets. The delicate wrist bounced twice before it slid back beneath the sheet and a pair of steel gray eyes groggily greeted the morning light. Focusing first on a decanter of un-watered wine, Amarantha let out a pampered sigh from the dull pain residing in the forefront of her head. There was a wanting of closing her eyes again and falling back into slumber, but the house was awakening and her husband said there were to be new slaves delivered. <br/><br/>      A naked form rose up from the bed with arms outstretched in a luxurious fashion in order to stir still sleeping limbs. Long blond tresses played around the inset dimples of her lower back as Amarantha placed her feet upon the cold floor. Once the hardest part of her morning was over with—getting out of bed—it did not take long for the woman to drape a rather sheer chiton over her shoulders. The dressing of her hair could wait for a little while longer and until after she had broken her fast. After all, there was no guests to be had at their villa this early in the morning and there were only slaves not even to be glanced at twice.<br/><br/>      Walking through her home, Amarantha plucked a fig from the lavish table that Atra had set, though of course without thanks to the dark-skinned slave girl. "Tell Melete that I want a milk bath today after the introduction of the new slaves. My skin is feeling dry from the air," Amarantha stated to Atra off handedly while continuing on through the home. Yes, a lovely milk bath would do wonders and make her skin so very soft after she viewed the lowly beings that were to be delivered shortly. <br/><br/>      Taking the daintiest bites of her fig, the notable woman paused right in the opening of the balcony to view Cassius and Ovinus. Such a sweet sight they were—standing there watching the gladiators and slaves pretend fight. "Ovinus hardly pries those eyes away from the slave men, Cassius. Perhaps you should introduce her to more interesting hobbies instead of sitting here and gawking at the slaves. It's most unbecoming of a woman with stature ... however little it may be for the moment," their mother had said, "I thought you would still be at sleep this early from your travels". A warm smile had graced her lips while viewing the two of them, though when those gray eyes had settled upon her daughter who was almost the spitting image of herself, there was a darkness behind them. A shame that Amarantha had passed all her beauty onto that girl and now all Ovinus wish to do was squander it on petty games of slaves and beasts. <br/></span>