[b]Aemilia[/b]
Aemilia smirked at her friend. "Of course there is! And apparently there's even a new combatant, fresh from the school. He's Celtic, and apparently the best of his class. Absolutely EVERYONE is going to be there to watch him fight." She tossed her head, the golden beads in her hair tinkling delicately. She didn't bother with a stola, everyone knew that she was hardly a faithful matron, and she found the things too confining anyway. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the red-haired slave girl... Oh what was her name... Tressa, who her husband had an affair with once, chasing after an apple. Aemilia abruptly turned away from the apple spectacle and said haughtily, "I think we should go look at some perfumes; I'm almost out and I'm hardly about to go to the coliseum without a divine scent!" She laughed, a warm rich sound. "Speaking of which, my father wishes that I could teach Secunda a lesson. She always reeks of ink and parchment, and goes about in horrific undyed tunics with her hair in a plait! Can you imagine? And she doesn't even serve Father like a proper maiden should. She was loafing on the edge of the fountain today, when she should have been politely waiting on Father and Grandfather, and so I pushed her in, oh the indignity. To actually have to exert myself to teach that stuck-up sister of mine."