I warmed his cold blood

Chapter 45 Stepping Stone Tribune

When the bonfire burned out, the sky was completely dark.The sea breeze became biting.They hugged each other all the time, did not stop too much, folded the dry cloak, and quickly set off to go home.

The carriage stopped at the door of the house, and Lucas jumped down first, lifted the curtain, and reached out to Heron to help him get down.

Helen walked to the carriage, knelt down, took his hand to his lips, and kissed him lightly.When his lips were pressed against the back of his hand, the eyelids gradually lifted up, and the eyelashes flickered like a feather fan, revealing the black and bright jewel-like eyes, facing Lucas's pupils directly, with a look of expectation.

Lucas naturally understood what he meant, hugged the back of his head, raised his head and kissed his lips.

Only then was Heron satisfied, and regained that elegant and clear posture, and slowly got out of the car.

When the two entered the atrium, they heard the sound of clanging.Heron's heart skipped a beat.

Gattuso is wearing a black cloak, standing in front of the plaster statue, and his figure just overlaps with the plaster statue of Pliny.

After losing his child, he was thin and thin, his fat face became smaller, his cheekbones appeared, and his slightly protruding stomach was also restrained.He stood dully in the courtyard, coughing from time to time, with a solemn expression, surrounded by torches.

He seemed to be bound by a black rope like a crow's feather, and was imprisoned tightly.Suffering from the pain, even if he doesn't say a word, he can make others feel the weight of fate.

Helen looked at his cousin, feeling sour in his heart.He didn't know what to say, he just stood there in a daze.

Gattuso walked over, and the dark face gradually emerged from the darkness.He looked serious, had obvious dark bags under the eyes, and was as silent as a rock, just looking at his cousin.

Two pairs of black pupils reflected each other.With just this silent glance, Heron could count his exhaustion in detail.

Finally, Gattuso forced a haggard smile and broke the silence:

"My dear cousin, do you know that when you're sad you don't say a word?"

Helen sighed softly, "Gattuso...I'm sorry I didn't buy the flamingo tongue in advance..."

"It's okay." Gattuso laughed dryly, lowered his head and said sullenly, "I don't eat meat anymore. You can understand that a father is praying for his son."

Herron choked.

"My aunt has passed away. Although she no longer belongs to Claudius, I still want to pay homage to her because of blood ties."

Gattuso glanced around, "It seems that you didn't hold a funeral for her? Didn't you organize people to cry?"

"I think she probably doesn't like that." Helen said, "She needs to leave peacefully. The emotionless howls of outsiders will only disturb her. She has no fear or unwillingness to die."

He paused and said in a slow tone: "It's you...Gattuso. You have suffered a lot of pain that I can't imagine..."

Gattuso smiled: "You may not know how much sorrow and cruelty a politician will face. But none of these will break me, because I am the youngest senator in Rome. Sulla only has Seneca, but In addition to Seneca, I also have Claudius! I am the head of an ancient family, and I hold the wealth and lives of hundreds of people."

He gave a thumbs up, pointed at himself, and grinned.

His confidence and strength emerge from his words, sharp as an arrow, capable of killing all suffering that befalls him.

Herron was infected and inspired by him; at this moment, how grateful he was to fate for giving him a group of noble and optimistic relatives.

He settled down and sighed softly: "Come in and sit down, Gattuso. I will entertain you with the purest milk."

He turned his face away again, and said to the side: "Lucas, you can come in too. From now on, you can participate in my family affairs."

Gattuso was stunned, "It seems that you have found a trustworthy confidant, my cousin. This is your luck."

Herron glanced at him quietly without further explanation.

The three entered the dining room.Herron sat across the table from Gattuso, with Lucas standing behind him.

The slave wiped their hands and spread a napkin on their knees.They held long-spouted jugs and carried them on their shoulders, pouring milk into long and thin silver cups like magic tricks, skillfully and quickly, without leaking a drop of milk.

By candlelight, Gattuso glanced at Heron and pointed to his lips: "What's wrong with your mouth? Was it pecked by your pigeons?"

Lucas' expression changed, and even his breathing stopped.

Herron didn't answer, but pushed the cup towards Gattuso, and said, "My dear cousin, maybe it's a better choice to stay with your wife at home. You know, she should need you very much now."

"As I said, I not only have Seneca, but also the responsibility of the whole family. For me, the pain of losing my beloved son is like cutting out my heart, but the fame and honor of Claudius is where my soul lies."

He nodded his heart: "Here, there is a beating heart that is stronger than marble!"

Helen was silent for a moment, then said sullenly: "I just think that when Sura is in the most pain, you should be by my side. After all, you two love each other so much..."

Gattuso gave him a strange look, turned the cup, and teased: "If I remember correctly, it has been less than seven days since we last met, but you seem to have changed a lot. In my eyes, your Your eyes seem to be covered with a leather mask, blocking everything that has anything to do with emotion. But now, it seems that you have taken off the blindfold."

Helen cleared his throat, and said seriously: "Even my father's servants told me that people will change. At least you don't have to worry about my life, don't you?"

Gattuso glanced at him, held the glass and said: "The reason why I came here in the wind and cold is to tell you a good thing, but it is related to your future life."

"what's up?"

"The old emperor is seriously ill. It is said that even diluted milk can make him vomit. If there is no accident of usurpation, his son Lucica will be the next emperor." Gattuso said, "But it doesn't matter. ;The important thing is that the senate election will be postponed. It will probably not be held until the new emperor is enthroned."

Heron was puzzled, "Why delay?"

Gattuso clicked his tongue, reached out and flicked his forehead, with a helpless face: "You probably don't understand politics. Who would listen to the emperor who is about to die? His order has lost its effect. The Senate was ruled by the emperor. Power is suppressed, and there is no other choice but to please. Why not postpone the election to please the new boss who will take office?"

Helen thought for a while, touched his chin, and nodded.

Gattuso sighed softly, "My poor Herron, you have recovered a pair of passionate eyes, but you have maintained an extremely pure heart. I am afraid that you will have to take some more detours in your official career. You may It will take a lot of hard work to get it.”

Helen froze for a moment, "It seems that I lack the talent for politics."

Gattuso nodded and agreed, "That's right. To be more precise, you have no talent at all. Your soul is probably a dreamer who opposes politics and the country."

Heron sighed softly, "But I learn to debate every day! I dare say that even Cicero himself can't remember his political arguments, but I can recite them backwards. Including Caesar's War Records, I can Speech for three days and three nights without repeating a single word!"

Gattuso laughed.The milk cup in his hand shook violently, shaking out a small flake of milk.He put down his glass, put his hands on Herron's shoulders, and tugged at his collar, shaking with laughter, and so did his hair.He gasped and muttered, his voice slurred.The dark cloud of losing the child in the melancholy heart was temporarily dispelled by Heron's ignorance.

"...My silly Helen!"

He couldn't stand upright laughing, and it took a long time to calm down.He let out a sigh of relief, leaned back on the chair, raised his head slightly, and there was a look of pity in his eyes, like a holy father pitying his lost child.

"Politics is not just rhetoric. It is built on real bricks and concrete. It is composed of the ruler's decision to kill and the people's support and cries. This requires real achievements. Your sweet mouth is even if you coax the goddess from the sky. You can't fool your colleagues' eagle eyes!"

Helen moved his hand away, coughed twice, and said with disgust, "Gattuso, I admit that what you said is very reasonable, and I appreciate your experience. But when you teach me, please don't Pull my collar. I'm about to be strangled to death by you!"

Gattuso let go of his hand, looked at him sideways and said: "Now I can be sure that the postponement of the election is a good thing for you! You still need experience, you need to work hard in official affairs! You have always been lazy and greedy. Playing, just half a year is not enough to make you reborn."

"Oh my God! You know I don't even have time to feed the pigeons because of the election! I almost gave up all the time for fun!" Heron was greatly shocked, and after thinking about it, he asked, "Then how should I practice?"

Gattuso patted his face, "You can start as a tribune, make some achievements first, and gain the support of the common people. In this way, you will have merit and will be respected when you enter the Senate. "

"A tribune?" Harren murmured.

"That's right." Gattuso said, "If you wear a white robe based on your current level, you will definitely be impeached by other elders. Because you have no convincing results."

He paused for a moment, recalling some of the past in his mind, his face gradually became serious, as if his face was covered with a layer of cloud, completely covering his originally relaxed expression.

"When I first entered the political arena, I was criticized by the elders of the same period." He said solemnly, "Of course, the reason also has my own flaws and weaknesses; but more, it is the conflict of political interests..."

"Who have you been attacked by?" Herron took a sip of milk, "Maybe when I step into politics, your enemy will be my enemy."

Gatu Suo paused, and said: "Daho, the Patriarch of Antony, he is too radical and does not agree with my political views. But it cannot be denied that he is indeed very promising, and he is very good at debating."

"Is he a radical?" Herron asked.

"Well." Gattuso nodded, "When he took office as an administrator, because there was a vacancy in the middle of a wheat field, he actually wanted to burn the entire wheat field to ashes and replant it. God bless, elder The Court rejected his motion."

"He's such a eccentric person." Heron sighed.

Gattuso was silent for a while, and continued: "When Seneca was lost, I used to suspect that it was his means. After all, he is my only enemy. There are too many political struggles with children as victims."

"Will he kidnap the child to threaten you?" Helen was a little worried.

Gattuso shook his head, "I inquired about his situation, and he didn't move at all. But I also guess that he will probably order his cronies to do it, and then hide the child in his cronies' home. Daho has always been lonely and never had contact with others , where can he hide the child..."

Helen was silent for a while, and then said: "Politics... is more brutal than I imagined..." His ending was exhausted and drawn out.

Gattuso smiled and comforted him: "Don't worry, you are still young. Based on your background, you have a good chance of competing for the position of tribune. Moreover, the election of tribune has also been postponed. You have enough Time to prepare. Although you are innocent, fortunately you are not stupid. I trust my cousin!"

Herron stared into his dark eyes, silently, his eyes slowly sweeping across his rather haggard face.

Gattuso's eye sockets were sunken, and the brow bone cast a shadow on the eyelids. Under the eyelashes were the whites of the eyes covered with red silk, and the black eyeballs also appeared cloudy.His fair skin had turned blue-black, and his double chin was baggy.

He is like a burnt black corpse, forcibly put on the flesh of a living person, living in this cruel world like a puppet with the belief of family glory as the thread.

Although he didn't say anything.

Helen was a little sad, his chest was getting heavier and heavier, and he said after a while: "Thank you, Gattuso. You are under so much pressure, but you still want to take care of me..."

Gattuso froze for a moment, touched the back of his head in embarrassment, and said carelessly: "There is no need to say thank you between men!"

He put on a sly expression again, and said, "Just don't forget about my good cousin!"

The two drank the milk.Gattuso didn't stay for long, and left after explaining the matter, declining Herron's request to send him off in person.

He is like a prophet who has nothing to do with the world, bringing news of the future without asking, and leaving without asking, and he doesn't bother to receive any reward.

Watching him slowly walk out of the hall, leaving behind a lonely and determined back, Herron sighed slightly.

He turned around and looked at Lucas who had been a bystander.

Lucas was in a quiet daze; but more precisely, he was thinking quietly.He was half leaning against the marble pillar, with his arms folded and his lips tightly closed.The eyelashes and eyeballs seemed to be still, slanting down, fixed in a certain place, but the line of sight was out of focus, containing nothing.From hair to toes, every part of his body was motionless, as if his soul had left his body, and he didn't know which world he had drifted to.

Helen was inexplicably unhappy, even a little bit wronged.He coughed twice and said, "Lucas... what are you thinking..."

Lucas was awakened by him, and only then did he move, as if some wandering spirit had penetrated an otherwise static lime statue and brought it to life.

He smiled, lowered his arms, and his lost eyes returned to their former brilliance when they saw Harun.

"Nothing." He smiled, looking sincere.

Herren pursed her lips and walked over, wrapping her arms around his waist.His lips moved a few times, and the light in his black eyes trembled slightly, showing a kind of pitiful grievance, "But your expression tells me that you are thinking about something messy on your own again..."

Lucas was touched by his appearance, and there was a warm current in his heart.He hugged him lovingly, pulled him into his arms, and slid his fingers into his hair, "It's really nothing... Even if there is, it's all about you."

Helen raised his eyelids, his eyes showed fragility, and his fingers began to tremble.He grabbed Lucas's clothes tightly, his brows were tightened and opened quickly, his face was as tough as a slave owner for a while, and as weak as a child for a while, like a double-faced man who quickly changed his mask.

"Lucas, please don't make up your own mind. I hate slaves who act without authorization, especially when it's you." His voice trembled.

Lucas touched his face, pressed his side face gently against his chest, and said softly: "No, I have sworn countless oaths to you, and I will never leave you again."

Helen felt relieved and breathed a deep sigh of relief.

The author has something to say:

This article will not go in a political direction, there is no conspiracy, intrigue or anything like that.

I prefer to write about emotions, and most of the content is emotional dramas.