She willed her fingers not to tremble, willed her eyes not to fill or dart or blink. Be marble, she remembered telling herself during the bad weeks after Piso’s death. Be ice. See how much juice you can squeeze out of a column of black ice, Fabius Valens.

Thirteen

Thirteen

PAULINUS!” Cornelia had hardly put one foot into Lollia’s bedchamber before she whirled around again and sent Tullia’s son back the other way. “Why don’t you go play in the atrium?”

“Gods’ sake, my honey.” Silk rustled, and Lollia sounded amused. “No need to hustle him out. It’s nothing he won’t be doing himself in a few years.”

“Paulinus,” Cornelia said firmly as he looked interested. “Go find Flavia and play.”

“Just don’t play like that with my daughter,” Lollia giggled. “Not yet, anyway.”

Cornelia kept her eyes on the mosaics as Paulinus dashed out. “Can I turn around yet?”

“Yes, yes. Though really, Cornelia, you are a prude. Seeing a naked cock isn’t going to turn you to stone, you know.”

“I’m sorry, I should have knocked.” Cornelia did her best not to blush as she turned. “Paulinus has been missing his father terribly and Tullia just ignores him, so I thought I’d bring him to play with Flavia, but—”

“Goodness, you look red.” Lollia now sat decorously in an orange silk robe on the bed, her big golden-haired slave waving an ostrich feather fan at her side. His tunic was inside out. When Cornelia had first come into the bedchamber, he’d been on top of Lollia with one of her ankles crooked around his hips and the other twined around his neck.

“Didn’t you ever try that one with Piso?” Lollia continued. “One does have to be limber, but it’s bliss.”

“I don’t care to discuss such things.” Cornelia wrinkled her nose, nodding at the slave. “You may go.”

He looked at Lollia. “Yes,” she dimpled, and gave a little giggle as he bowed and dashed gratefully out. “Poor darling, he’s been terribly embarrassed this morning. Fabius caught us too, you see.”

“Your husband?”

“Yes, he walked in early this morning when we were doing the bridge. Did you ever try that one? You get down on all fours and then—”

“What did Fabius do?” Cornelia said hastily, feeling the blush come back. Really, Lollia had no more shame than a cat in heat.

“Oh, he glared a lot and stamped out again.” Lollia sashed her robe more tightly around her waist. “Really, I was hoping he’d catch me. It’s about time he learned.”

“Learned what?”

“Well, Fabius is a pleb, so he has all these ridiculous ideas about how a wife should conduct herself. All of a sudden I’m being expected to concern myself with his favorite dishes and the temperature of his bathwater, and behave like a Vestal Virgin. In public, anyway. In private, he wants a whore.”