âI understand youâve ⦠declined all your potential husbands.â
Tibi froze. Aware that her inability to secure a husband had not only enraged her father but had made her a joke, she was mortified to think of Alexius laughing about her behind her back. âAre you mocking me?â
âNo. If anything, I admire your unwillingness to accept just any man for a husband.â
âI havenât declined all of them,â she admitted, enraptured by his nearness and the intensity of his silver eyes enough to speak without subterfuge. âThey donât want me.â
Tibi tugged free of his grasp, regretting the loss of contact the same instant. To her chagrin, his easy release of her hand when moments before heâd insisted on holding her smacked of rejection.
âThen they must have been deaf and blind, as well as ignorant.â
Startled by the unexpected compliment, she reminded herself that Alexius charmed women with the ease of a cobra mesmerizing prey. And he was just as dangerous. To her, perhaps more so.
Dear Reader,
Iâm often asked where I get the inspiration for my characters. Most of the time I donât even know myself, but The Champion was a little different. Tibi and Alexiusâs story is similar to the early relationship between my own parents. My mom was raised in a difficult home, and my father was the baby of a big loving family. When they met and married they were happy, but they knew something was missing.
Through the testimony of their friends and family, they realized they needed Christ to forgive their mistakes and make them complete. Though their journey to faith was quiet, it was genuine. They spent the next forty years planting churches, sharing their faith and inspiring others. This month theyâll have been married fifty-three years and are closer than ever.
Although I may not usually know where my inspiration to create my characters comes from, I always see them in their later years as similar to my parents, having lived long lives of faith, loving each other and surrounded by their happy families. I pray for these same blessings for you and your loved one.
I hope youâve enjoyed Tibi, Alexius and my two other Roman-set stories, The Gladiator and The Protector.
I love to hear from my readers. Please visit my website, www.carlacapshaw.com, and/or write to me at [email protected]. Be inspired,
Carla Capshaw
Blessed are those who hear the word of God, and keep it.
âLuke 11:28
My parents, Kenneth and Patricia Hughes.
Everyone should be as blessed to have parents like you!
Your fifty plus years of marriage and decades of ministerial service have shown me true love and true faith do exist in a world that constantly questions both. I love you with all my heart.
Rome, AD 84
âYouâre useless, Tibi. Youâve been nothing but a disappointment since the day you were born.â
Numb to her fatherâs constant condemnation, Tibi stared out the open window of her familyâs Palatine home. Except for a few distant cook fires dotting the nearby hills, darkness covered Rome like a thick, heavy blanket. The night was still and silent as though it waited to learn Tibiâs fate.
âLepidus was the last man of good family willing to wed you,â Tiberius continued to rant. âIf he wanted to sample you before the wedding, who are you to object? Instead of welcoming his advances, as you should have done, you reaffirmed your willful reputation and denied him at every turn. Little wonder he stormed from here with no wish to see you again. No man wants a disobedient wife. Not even when her father is willing to pay a fortune to be rid of her.â
Tibi winced, but remained silent. Sheâd stopped defending herself years ago when she realized that her father always sided against her.
âWhy the gods cursed me with two daughters and took my adopted son is beyond my ken, but at least your sister over there had the decency to bring political connections to this house when she wed Senator Tacitus three years ago. As for you, youâre a disgrace.â
In the face of her fatherâs condemnation, sheâd forgotten that Tiberia, her elder, more winsome sister, sat in an alcove near the inner courtyard. Closing her eyes, Tibi breathed in deep to ward off an onslaught of total humiliation. The sweetness of her perfume mocked her earlier decision to forgo the formless linen tunics and comfortable shoes she preferred in favor of feminine silks and the bejeweled sandals now pinching her toes. Despite her fatherâs belief that she went out of her way to foil all his plans for her, sheâd prepared for tonight with care in an effort to please her family and make a good impression on her intended groom.
Shivering from the cool night air, she rubbed the tender spot on her upper arm where Lepidus had grabbed her. Heâd cornered her in the shadows of one of the garden columns, then tried to force himself on her while the other guests cheered the gladiatorial contest her father had arranged for their entertainment. Sheâd narrowly escaped Lepidusâs mauling by biting his lip and refusing to let go until he released her. Neither he nor her father had considered her self-defense justified. Lepidus had stormed from the house, vowing revenge on her shameless behavior and leaving her to bear the brunt of her fatherâs wrath.