Generally curious about Brutus’ reason to depart and slightly frustrated her brother was involved, Porcia walked to her brother’s tent and was stopped by a guard,

“ Marcus Porcius Cato is…” he stopped speaking as he was pushed aside and Porcia entered with no qualms about her brother’s condition.

Her brother was working into the early morning, or at least he had started working before drifting to sleep. Before he awoke Porcia read his letter to Sextus, a grimace was on her face and she had an uneasy feeling.

“Good morning, brother.” Porcia said with a mocking docility. It took a moment for Cato the III to recover his senses and when he was fully roused, Porcia stated on a minor soliloquy.

“You know, Brutus left this morning for Rome. I found it rather odd he was doing so, but did not think much of it.” Her brother was confused,

“And this has something to do with you unceremoniously interrupting my work?” He asked in between yawns. Porcia huffed impatiently, and said,

“First, you weren’t working. And secondly, I think you had something to do with it. Would I be correct in thinking so?” Cato rolled his eyes at his sister’s current demeanor,

“Porcia, I realize this is a hard time for you, but I do have important things to do besides listen to you preach to me.” He hit a slight nerve with the commonplace aversion of the subject and Porcia’s grin was almost demonic in a way only a woman can achieve,

“Might that important thing have something to do with a proposed alliance to Sextus Pompeius?” Cato had risen from his chair and walked to the side of the desk, which Porcia was on, he took an exaggerated sip of his wine. “Brother, you are turning into father with your drinking habits.”

“Oh, don’t lecture me with that high and mighty tone. I wasn’t going to go against father’s wishes and totally dishonor him by marrying that senatorial fart Brutus.” The nerve was again prodded and a glint appeared in Porcia’s brown eyes,

“I knew it. You drove Brutus away, you do know I’m sui isurus and I don’t need familial permission to marry.”

“Please spare me these unending trials. You were always so difficult. Why can’t you be like every other Roman woman and marry whom she’s told?”

“You’re impossible. Let me guess, this proposed alliance to Sextus Pompeius would only serve strengthened by my noble sacrifice on the altar of good intentions. You want me to agree to marry that self-centered, ego-centric man don’t you?” Cato groaned and stalked towards the far side of the tent.

“Were you a normal, less difficult woman, I might have asked it of you? You, however, have an irritating tendency of being stubborn. Like father, in every fault and way. It is no small wonder you were his favorite.” Porcia had her turn to be angry and ungracefully walked towards her brother,

“Normal? Less difficult? Did you have to marry a 47-year-old man when you were thirteen and then proceed to bear him one living son and several who died? Calpurnius Biblius, rest his soul, was the most extensive slob in Rome. I have sacrificed many things for this family, what have you done for it?” An officer opened the tent flap and asked,

“Is everything alright my lord?” Cato nodded and replied, glaring directly at Porcia,

“It’s nothing that I can’t strangle with my bare hands.” Porcia sighed exaggeratedly, and stated,

“IF that’s how you feel about it, I’ll leave you for now.” She stalked impatiently out of the tent.