The night had stretched on, slipping into vigilia tertia, and the weight of the quiet hour seemed to press down even more heavily on Plancina.
Her steps echoed through the empty streets, the cold air biting at her skin.
She was losing control, and with each passing moment, the unease in her chest only deepened.
Her gaze flickered to the shadows, every movement sending a jolt of panic through her. She was waiting for Sejanus.
Where is he? She thought, biting her lip in frustration.
She wrapped her arms around herself, her fingers trembling despite her best attempts to remain composed.
An hour had passed since the messenger departed. Her mind, frantic with worry, couldn't quiet the question that continued to swirl.
Why is my husband not in the Tullianum prison?
But the more she pondered, the more she realized—she was actually relieved that he wasn't there.
Had Piso been there when Agrippina arrived, the entire scheme might have unraveled.
Agrippina, ever sharp, could have pried the truth from him—how Tiberius had ordered Germanicus's death in Syria.
Plancina knew the truth. She had witnessed the whispered orders. But her husband hadn't done anything except start conflict with the general.
What he didn't know was that his wife had been positioned as the backup plan, ready to step in if he failed to deliver.
It was a secret she shared only with Sejanus—and one she kept hidden from her husband.
Piso, cautious to a fault, made Plancina bored, so she decided to act on her own.
But I've done a marvelous job, she thought, pride swelling within her despite the growing peril of the situation.
The results had been impressive. She silently praised her own efforts.
But there were details left out—why was her husband in a different prison?
She could have completed the task already if not for that!
Now she was back to being a nervous wreck.
But the thought of her husband speaking to Agrippina, revealing the chain of events, was more than she could bear.
It could implicate her—the wife of a criminal.
No. She would rather see Piso die unjustly, his death meaningless, than risk him confessing the truth.
Let the world believe he was guilty of whatever the Senate and the whispers claimed—Plancina would be the wife of the falsely accused. A martyr.
Her fingers tightened around the vial of poison.
Agrippina… that scheming widow. Her thoughts raced.
She's getting too close. Too inquisitive.
Agrippina had gone to the prison, likely seeking to dig for information.
What if she uncovers the truth? What if Piso, in his panic, blurts something he shouldn't?
She couldn't—wouldn't—allow that to happen.
That's why Plancina needed to meet Sejanus now! It was critical—before it was too late!
Her thoughts, clouded by anxiety and urgency, were interrupted when she finally saw him.
Sejanus emerged from the shadows, his dark cloak billowing over his tunica militaris like a phantom.
His expression was unreadable as always, but something about the way he approached her made her stomach twist. There was no time for pleasantries now.
"Where have you been?" Plancina snapped before she could stop herself, her voice sharp with frustration.
Sejanus raised an eyebrow, clearly annoyed.
"Really?" he muttered, his voice dripping with disdain. "It's the dead of night, and you send for me with a messenger?"
He shrugged off his cape with a fluid motion, never breaking eye contact with her.
"We've already done this inside your domus and even in your marital bed, after my soldiers took your husband, and now you want to do it again?" Sejanus smirked.
"Go on, strip then..." he said suddenly, his tone commanding.
"I didn't come for this!" Plancina blurted, her voice tight with anxiety.
Her words seemed to amuse him, but he didn't press the issue.
The air between them thickened with tension as she took another step toward him, her face flushed, her breath quickening with desperation.
"I've been waiting here for over an hour!" she nearly shouted, her words spilling out in a frantic mix of anger and fear.
"Why isn't Piso in the Tullianum? Why is he in the palatium? Why didn't you tell me?" Plancina's voice rose, her eyes wide with panic.
But Sejanus's gaze hardened, his expression unyielding.
"Agrippina went to see him there," she continued in a frantic rush. "She's looking for my husband! What if she discovers the truth?" Her voice cracked with desperation, hysteria creeping into her tone.
"That harlot! She must have sniffed something out! Why else would she visit the prison to meet with Piso? She might be heading to the palatium right now! They might let her in. They can't talk to each other!" Her voice cracked, the tension weighing her down.
"My husband might reveal everything about Tiberius… about the truth! He cannot live!"
Before she could speak further, Sejanus's hand shot out, clamping over her mouth, silencing her.
She froze, eyes wide with a mix of shock and fury, but Sejanus's grip was firm. His voice, cold and low, cut through her panic.
"Have you lost your mind? Watch your mouth!" His eyes narrowed, annoyance clear in every word as he looked around.
He didn't care about how desperate she was to speak; he only cared about silencing her.
In one swift motion, he pulled her into a shadowed corner, away from the prying eyes of the streets.
Plancina's heart raced, but she barely registered it.
"She could uncover what really happened," she said, trying to regain control of her voice, which now hardened with mounting anxiety. "If she does, it's all over."
Sejanus stood silent for a moment, his face unreadable.
She was persistent, but now there was something else—panic. The irritation he'd felt earlier in the evening began to surface again, but he buried it beneath the surface.
She's losing her grip.
That's what this is about. He reminded himself that Plancina was far too valuable, even if her relentless paranoia made her unbearable at times.
Should he just kill her? Disguise it as an accident? he thought. No, I still need her.
She could see the growing irritation in his eyes, but it was tempered with something deeper, a cold calculation that reminded her just how dangerous he truly was.
"Agrippina won't get anywhere," he finally said, his voice measured and cold. "She's playing a game, but she doesn't have all the pieces." He leaned closer, his gaze locking onto hers. "Besides, Agrippina isn't the issue here."
Plancina barely heard him. Her mind was filled with visions of Agrippina at the prison, of Piso possibly confessing everything—of the disastrous consequences.
"You need to stop her!" she hissed, her voice trembling with a mix of fury and fear. "Agrippina can't find him. If she gets to him, everything we've worked for will crumble! We can't let her uncover the truth."
Sejanus's eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin. Her desperation grated on him, making the air between them feel suffocating.
"I'm well aware of the stakes, Plancina," he said, his voice sharpening. "But losing your composure won't help. You need to trust me—just once." He exhaled sharply, his eyes cutting through her as her hands clenched into fists.
I already have my trusted men guarding the prison. No one will get in or out without my say.
Yes, that is power, Sejanus thought, a brief sense of pride swelling within him. He turned his attention back to Plancina.
She was beyond reason now, "You don't understand!" she insisted, her voice raw, trembling with fear of everything slipping away.
"This has to be done tonight! Piso cannot survive. You need to make sure he's silenced. Before Agrippina or anyone else finds out. I need you to act!" Her mind spun with panic.
Sejanus's lips tightened into a thin line as his mind processed the urgency. She was desperate, losing control, but that didn't change the fact that this had to be done.
For a moment, he stood still, weighing her words. Agrippina at the Tullianum—what if she was already snooping around? What if she already knew too much? His eyes flickered with the faintest trace of doubt but quickly suppressed it.
Plancina's hand trembled as she reached into her stola and pulled out a small vial. The liquid inside gleamed faintly in the dim light, an innocuous glass container—yet it held the power to destroy everything.
Without a word, she thrust it into Sejanus's hand.
He took it, his fingers brushing hers briefly, his gaze sharp. The cold liquid shimmered inside the vial—poison. He had already orchestrated Germanicus's death, but, now silencing Piso was the final piece they needed.
No one could discover the truth. The world could believe the governor was guilty of whatever they said he was. But Piso had to be gone—for good.
"You're far too hasty, Plancina," Sejanus murmured, his voice carrying an icy calm. "But... for the sake of keeping things in order, I'll handle it."
The finality of his words seemed to pull the tension from her shoulders, and she exhaled with relief. She was desperate, but now the plan would unfold.
"If Agrippina figures it out..." she started, her voice trailing off with unease.
"Trust me," Sejanus interrupted, his tone cold and unwavering. "I've got this."
With one final glance, she nodded, her mind still swirling with the weight of the decision. She disappeared into the shadows of the night.
He remained still, watching her retreat, his thoughts heavy. What if Agrippina was already at the palatium? What if she had uncovered more than he realized?
After a moment, he turned, slipping into the night, the vial of poison gripped tightly in his hand. Piso's fate was sealed.
No one would ever learn the truth—of that, he was certain.
***************************
The cold air pricked at Agrippina's skin as she stood before the towering gates of the palatium, under the still dark sky. Her black cloak swelled around her.
Her presence was dignified yet filled with a quiet urgency.
The soldiers standing guard did not acknowledge her, but she could feel their watchful, apprehensive gaze upon her.
Behind her, her slaves waited: two burly manicipia with crossed arms, scanning the area with a blend of caution and loyalty, and three female servus, quietly lingering behind her, accompanied by the lone vilici.
Agrippina's patience had worn thin, drained by the long journey and the gnawing uncertainty that gnawed at her.
"Do you not recognize who I am?" she demanded, her voice sharp but controlled. The guards exchanged nervous glances, yet remained silent.
Their impassive silence sparked a fire within her. Stepping forward, her heels clicked sharply on the cobblestones.
"Where is Tiberius?" she asked, her gaze unwavering. "My husband's uncle. Where is he?" She emphasized her relationship to the emperor.
The guards remained stoic, their gazes never wavering, but they remained mute. Agrippina's jaw tightened, and her hands curled into fists.
Without turning her back, she spoke to her servants. "Summon Antonia and send for Marcus."
As she waited, her gaze lingered on the guards, and the stillness of the moment settled over her, unsettling her further.
A knot began to form in her stomach, a sensation she couldn't shake.
Footsteps, confident and sure, suddenly echoed from behind her. Thinking it was her father—Marcus, Agrippina turned.
But the steps were too early. As she glanced back, she saw him, Tiberius's loyal guard—striding toward the entrance of the palatium, walking with the air of someone who owned it.
Their eyes locked, and an almost palpable shift filled the air. Agrippina's eyes narrowed as she realized he wasn't stopping and was instead heading toward her.
Moving swiftly, she blocked his path, halting Sejanus in his tracks. Her posture was confident, yet it concealed a fury just beneath the surface.
Sejanus stopped abruptly, his face unreadable, though his eyes locked onto hers with a chilling calm. For a moment, neither spoke.
"You dare meet my gaze?" she demanded, her voice slicing through the tension. "Who do you think you are?"
Sejanus barely reacted, his tone flat and dismissive. "Last time I checked, you're not my master."
What???? The audacity of him—this man who served Tiberius—dared to speak to her in such a manner? her hazel eyes widening. Her mouth opened and closed, unable to come up with words.
Agrippina's chest tightened, she's so flabbergasted that it makes her unable to say anything, her fatigue catching up on her.
The silence stretched between them.
Sejanus spoke, "If you'll excuse me matrona, I have somewhere I have to be," then he bowed as if mocking her. "And oh, you do be careful now on your way back. You wouldn't know what happens in the dark."
"What?" her eyes narrowed, her mind racing with the implication of his words.
You wouldn't know what happens in the dark, he said. Was that a threat? A warning? Or simply a cruel taunt?
Then he shrugged nonchalantly, as if she were of no consequence. With a swift turn, he walked past her without sparing a second glance, leaving Agrippina seething.
She watched as he disappeared into the shadows, the sound of his footsteps echoing through the hallway. The air was heavy with unspoken menace.
Agrippina's instincts screamed that she was missing something - something crucial.
An ominous feeling clawed at her. Time seemed to drag on, stretching far too long.
Finally, Antonia and Marcus arrived, their stern faces signaling their outrage with the unbelievable situation.
"What is this?" Antonia asked, looking between the guards and Agrippina.
"They won't let me pass," Agrippina replied tersely.
"How dare you stop her?" Antonia scolded the guards, her voice laced with authority. "And me? Will you try to stop me as well?"
The guards attempted to explain themselves, but Antonia, backed by her own praetorian guards, snapped, "Take these fools away, who failed to recognize their master!" The guards were promptly removed.
As they walked toward the prison, Agrippina's mind raced with thoughts of the past—of the whispered rumors surrounding Germanicus's death, of the injustice that had spread through her life like a stain. A tightness gripped her chest as they neared the prison.
As they continued their walk, Agrippina turned to her mother-in-law. "How are the children?" she asked again, hoping to focus on something else to ease the growing tension.
Antonia answered gently, reaching her hand while they are walking, "They are well. Drusus Caesar keeps the household lively, and little Livilla is with her wet nurse."
Yet, the worry gnawed at Agrippina once more, and before she could stop herself, she whispered, "I shouldn't have come here. They are my children. I should be with them." Antonia's hand now briefly rested on her shoulder. "You're here for answers. We will make sure they are held accountable."
They continued their way until they reached Piso's cell. But what they found inside was beyond anything they had expected. The governor's lifeless body lay cold on the floor, foam at his mouth—his life snuffed out before Agrippina could confront him.
The realization struck her like a physical blow. Too late. She was too late.
Marcus bent over the body, his face hardening as he examined the scene. "Poison," he muttered, his voice thick with revulsion. "He's been silenced."
Agrippina stood frozen in the doorway, her mind whirling. Who did this? Who?
The questions tore at her, but none could answer the most pressing one:
Who killed Piso? And in the back of her mind, Sejanus's words echoed ominously,
You wouldn't know what happens in the dark.
It leaves a cold, uneasy feeling in her chest.
***************************
INDEX:
vigilia tertia - 1am-3am