Vesta

You won’t find me at feasts or in the arms of a lover—I’m in the quiet glow of your hearth, the first flame of the morning and the last light before sleep. I watch over every home, from marble villas to humble cottages, and I keep Rome standing as long as my fire burns. The Vestals see me in the flame they guard so faithfully, and Janus knows I light the way at every beginning. I am not cold—I simply chose the many over the one.