“I don’t see why you’re always so dismissive of Lucius. He’s perfectly pleasant.”

“You aren’t married to him. We weren’t all lucky enough to fall madly in love with the man our father picked for us, you know.” Marcella’s eyes drifted over Cornelia’s shoulder. “Dear Fortuna. Is that the ghastly Tullia headed straight for us? Hide me.”

“You always do that!” Cornelia accused. “Ever since we were little! Disappearing to let me face the worst—Tullia, how delightful to see you!”

“I can’t say the same for you, Cornelia—I understand you’ve had the Emperor to dine last week, and you didn’t invite me! Your own sister-in-law—”

Eventually the sun fell, the wine sank in everyone’s goblets, and soon the guests were drifting out for the final procession. Cornelia took her husband’s arm and joined the throng, Lollia and Senator Vinius in the lead, the slaves darting ahead to throw walnuts for fertility and silver coins for prosperity. Cornelia applauded with the rest as Lollia was carried over the threshold of her new home and knelt for the first time to light the fire in her new hearth. Squealing girls lined up for the bridal torch, and Lollia tossed it straight at Diana. Diana poked the business end of the torch at a young tribune begging her for a kiss.

“—must come with me,” Lollia was groaning to Marcella and Diana as Cornelia approached. The last of the guests were trailing out of Senator Vinius’s house with tipsy congratulations. “It’s sure to be dull as Hades—Cornelia, Vinius is dragging me to dinner at the palace with sour old Galba next week. Tell me you’ll come and glare at me for drinking too much wine—”

“Of course I’ll come,” Cornelia smiled. “Piso and I were already invited. I thought I’d wear my blue—”

“Not blue,” Diana said at once. “I hate blue, and we all have to dress in the same color when we sally out in force.”

“Why?” Marcella met her sister’s eyes over Diana’s head, and they traded familiar amused glances.

“Because we’re like a chariot team,” Diana explained. “Cornelia on the inside—slow, but like a rock around the turns. Marcella next, steady on the inner pair. Then Lollia, fast but wild. And on the outside, me. Fastest of anybody.”

“Why am I the slow one?” Cornelia wondered, and they all started giggling. Vinius frowned.

“Better go, my loves.” Lollia caught his expression, groaning. “And pity me, because the worst part of the day is yet to come.”

“Don’t be crude,” Cornelia chided.

“He smells like sour milk,” Marcella said, “and I imagine he’ll last about as long.”

“Is he a Reds fan?” Diana asked.