With the confirmation that the Roman wanted to get out of the public square as much as she did, Rosmerta nodded. “This way.” It was all she said for a few minutes as they wove their way back out of the tangled mass of ever moving humanity that filled courtyards in a city like Byzantium. It took a bit to find a truly unoccupied alleyway. Once she did, Rosmerta didn't waste any more time asking stupid questions. She just stepped into Concept and pulled the other goddess along with her.
They arrived a blink later at Rosmerta's home. At least the one she had on the mortal plane. It was a small farm, with an even smaller but cozy cottage. She went inside, letting Pietho follow as she would, in her own time. The cupboard in the large main room that served as the kitchen/dining room/parlor held some dishes, and the ones she was interested in were the sort that could hold wine. They weren't fancy, they were serviceable carved cups with a pretty decoration on the side. She set two of them on the table, along with her two bottles of wine, waiting for Peitho to bring the remaining two.
“I don't know about you,” she said aloud, “but I'm feeling inclined to get drunk. Really, really, really drunk. Because I don't really see a solution at the moment. If you love him like I do, and I'm betting you do, you're not going to give him up even though he's a dog for doing this to us. And you'd be willing to fight for him, because I know I would but where is that really going to get us? So. I vote for drinking. How about you?”
Right then, numbness was very, very appealing and she couldn't wait for it to get there.