‘Where are we going?’ ‘Cassandra showed me this. It’s so cool, I know you’ll love it.’ Maggie stopped in front of a large painting. ‘Loo... here.’ Looking over the wall size painting, I was puzzled for a second till my eyes registered that the half-built thing in the background was the Eiffel tower. Then, as the city skyline of Paris began to take shape, I saw that it was not the Paris I had told Maggie was my ideal vacation spot, but rather one from a much older time. Maybe late. Accompanied by a Vestal Virgin who didn’t blink an eye at proceedings, the eye catching but dangerous Vipsania, a recently appointed full Vestal Virgin. She was tall, a clear hour glass figure in her white tunic, symbolic of her purity, offset by a thin purple border, her breasts barely restrained by her fascia, the tight band below her breasts only accentuating her femininity, her hair in plaits, and a simple headband was designed to highlight not compete with her attractive face, the plaits. More

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