Felix watched with a feeling of uselessness as Antonia’s female slaves swarmed around her figure: adjusting her striking new toga praetexta, twisting her long tresses into a fashionable bun, and clasping glittering gold jewelry onto her arms and neck-completing the look by fastening on a crescent moon amulet for protection.
This absence of his usual duties was difficult to adjust to, yet Felix couldn’t help but feel excitement on a holiday such as this. The coming of February brought with it a moment of renewal in his eyes, this being the time of the year for purification. The festivities of the Lupercalia seemed to epitomize the sentiments of the citizens, bringing them closer together in a celebration of their rich history and setting off the new year with a bolster of hope for the rearing of new generations.
As his master’s family continued to prepare themselves for the upcoming festivities, Felix wandered outside of the house and looked out across the expansive landscape that stretched beneath Palatine Hill. Memories from years past welled up into his imagination, and he could already picture the chaotic race that would soon be held around the land he stood on. The cheers of the crowds. The pounding of feet. The cracks of the whips. The roar of the fire fed with februa. Lupercalia was frightening and exhilarating and inexplicable and essential all at once.
From his vantage point, Felix could see the dotted masses of animals being herded together in preparation for the sacrificial procession and his stomach twisted with anticipation at the thought of the feast that would follow it.
He looked down at his rugged tunic and haphazardly rubbed at the stains that were scattered across it, causing the tag on his slave collar to softly jingle. As he reached up to touch the metal that encircled his neck, a pang of jealousy arose at the thought of the goatskin clad Luperci who were allowed to run this day, free of all constraints. If only he had that opportunity.
