“Well, well.” Tullia looked Lollia up and down. “A new husband for the summer. Let’s hope you keep this one longer.”

“I’m surprised you’ve kept Gaius as long as you have,” Lollia said sweetly. “Marcus Norbanus had the patience of a god for putting up with that voice of yours as long as he did. Like fingernails on slate.”

Tullia tossed her false ringlets, ignoring little Paulinus, who was climbing determinedly up onto the rim of the fountain. “Gaius doesn’t seem to mind.”

“Dear, you haven’t let Gaius get a word in edgewise for months. Who’s to know what he thinks about anything anymore?”

“So lovely to see little Paulinus again,” Cornelia put in quickly, hauling Tullia’s son off the fountain’s rim. “Has Marcus come too?”

“No, didn’t you hear?” Tullia yawned. “Vitellius had him imprisoned for something or other, so I’ve got Paulinus for the time being. I may send him out of the city for a while. I certainly don’t want anyone associating the Norbanus name with me anymore.”

Poor Marcus. Cornelia had been profoundly shocked when she first heard the news, and still couldn’t help a pang of unease every time she thought of it. Marcus Norbanus, imprisoned for the crime of carrying Emperor Augustus’s blood in his veins . . . surely Vitellius would release him soon? It was a new era now. Nothing bad could happen now that Otho was dead, nothing.

Well, at the very least, she could see little Paulinus well cared for during his father’s imprisonment. Especially since Tullia was about as maternal as a stone. . . . Cornelia had always adored Paulinus, vigorous funny little charmer that he was. “You can chase frogs later,” she chided, pulling him back from the fountain again. “Juno’s mercy, Paulinus, you need a haircut! I’ll do it myself tomorrow, and then I promise I’ll play with you all day—”

“Oh, gods.” Lollia sent a page to fetch her grandfather from the triclinium, where he was fussing over the banquet arrangements. “Almost time to begin, and where’s Fabius?”

Tullia eyed Lollia’s rubies—bigger than her own. “Perhaps he got tired of you a little quicker than the others.”

“It’s my money he wants, Tullia dear, and how does one get tired of money? Certainly you never do.” Lollia smiled. “Fortunately, it should take Fabius longer to run through mine than it’s taking you to run through Gaius’s. You certainly sucked Marcus dry before you divorced him.”

“I have other charms besides money to offer my husbands,” Tullia snapped.

“Like what?” said Lollia. “Rome’s driest hump under the sheets?”