Aeli gasped in awe at the gladiator's courage. Or foolishness. Either way, a man to be reckoned with. Some of her silly friends had fainted at the spray of blood, but she was just in awe of this man.
Iulia, by contrast, was muttering under her breath in Greek, Etruscan, Gallican, any language other than Latin or Celtic, cursing her father and his stupidity. Finally in exasperation at seeing the needless bloodshed, ran down the stairs and into her fathers' viewing booth. As emperor he had a special arena-side seat that was under heavy guard.
"Mei pater, siste, oro!" My father, stop this, I beg you!
He just chuckled, looking slightly bemused. "Filia mei, quorum dices? Non cognosco." My daughter, what do you speak of? I do not understand.
"Centuriae homini interfices!" You are killing hundreds of men! "Homini romae!" Roman men!
He laughed and patted her arm.
"Non cognosces, Iulia." You do not know. He motioned her out of his line of sight.
She bit back her tearful retort; such a thing as she planned to say might get her flogged or worse! And returned to her seat. Despite herself she whispered again under her breath in Celtic. "Oh, you're brave, but you waste so much life... Stop and think, after the battle, and pray they don't haunt you."