The Bath Scene (Optio's POV)

Lord Centurion stands fully naked with his marvelous package out in the open for everyone to see. A couple of men walk by and I give them a nod. Yes, it is a thing to behold. I know they'd wish to be as close to him as I am: We just had a wondrous bath together, side by side, he even snorted at the little joke I told him. All is as it should be. I puff my chest and can't help but smile.

He's such a good man. Pride makes my chest feel funny. He's such a considerate man. He doesn't have to look at me for me to know that he's listening. He always listens to me.

"Lord Centurion, don't you think it's a good plan?" 

He doesn't have to say it is but for some reason I need to hear it. Of course it's a good plan, he sees it, he always does. It's important to keep the troops busy during winter. If they dig ditches throughout the lazy months when there's nothing else to do, they won't get soft, they won't think of anything stupid, they'll stay in shape. Everything would be in order. 

Sure, they might be disgruntled but it's barely important. It's for their own good. They don't have to understand it. It's my — our — duty to see what's best for them. We think so they don't have to. That's just how it is.

However, Lord Centurion doesn't say anything.

Hm. Maybe he didn't hear, after all. My smile wavers. Just a little bit.

There are so many noisy soldiers, that must be the reason. Their meaningless prattling grates my ears. Ugh!

"Shut your mouths, you imbeciles!" I command them. They fall silent, as they well should. A few of them move to another pool.

All the better! Let us be alone with the good Lord Centurion.

Still, when I look at him, Lord Centurion's gaze is still elsewhere. My heart sinks.

Oh no! Maybe he's troubled? I need to find out. I will help him, if I can. If there is anyone bothering him, so help me gods… 

I will end them. That is my duty as his second-in-command, as his friend.

"Lord Centurion, is there something troubl—"

Then, I realize what he's looking at.

You!

You little shit!

Anger floods my head, making me look for my rod. Shit. I left it in the changing room.

I dart my gaze to good Lord Centurion's face, just to make sure. Surely he can't look at that little cockroach? Surely I'm mistaken. Why is there a little smirk on his face? Is he thinking about something funny?

A joke? Is he thinking of the joke I told him?

"Lord Centurion, it was a funny—"

"Shut up," he says.

I gasp.

He has never talked to me in such a way! 

Your stupid face takes shapes in my mind, making my blood boil. You.

It's your fault.

I will end you, you insect.