Well, Lollia knew these things. She’d had lovers before, after all. She’d know how to say good-bye with flair, how to end things with humor and dignity and compassion. All Cornelia could do was wrap herself around Drusus, clutching him desperately close through the night. “Not yet,” she whispered to herself the following morning, as she climbed into the litter and left him for their separate journeys back to Rome. “Oh, not yet!”

PART FOUR - VESPASIAN

PART FOUR

VESPASIAN

December A.D. 69–June A.D. 79

“He was the first emperor whose character actually improved after he attained the throne.”

—TACITUS

Nineteen

Nineteen

CORNELIA?” Marcella called as soon as she entered the atrium, shedding her ice-white palla. “Gaius, Tullia—you’ll never believe what I heard at the Forum. Cornelia?”

Sounds of a shriek from the triclinium. “Fortuna’s sake,” Marcella grumbled. With news like this, one might think she’d have an attentive audience for once. But of course not. Marcella caught sight of the slaves, clustered round-eyed and eavesdropping outside the triclinium, and shooed them off. “Gaius, Cornelia, I have such news—” Marcella began as she swept in, but no one was listening. Cornelia sat rigid on a stool, Gaius leaned against a couch nibbling his nails, and Tullia was storming up and down shrieking.

“—saw you, actually saw you sneaking out of the house at night! How many others saw you, you loose-kneed whore—”

“Now, now,” Gaius said nervously.

“Tullia.” Marcella greeted her sister-in-law. “I have news, but clearly it can wait. What’s going on?”

Tullia whirled around, curls vibrating over a reddened face. “Did you know about this?”

“About what?”

“About your sister!” Tullia screamed. “About your sister spreading her knees for a soldier!”

Marcella’s eyes flew to her sister, gazing straight ahead at the frieze on the wall. Cornelia was as white as the frieze, and she spoke through stiff lips. “Marcella didn’t know anything, Tullia. No one knew.”

“Don’t you dare speak to me!” Tullia rounded on her.

“Now, dear—” Gaius began.

Marcella raised an eyebrow and sank onto the nearest couch. “What is all this?”

“I questioned Cornelia’s maid yesterday.” Tullia stalked back and forth across the mosaics, coral-colored silks swishing. “I wanted to know why Cornelia’s been so quiet lately—I thought she might be ill! Fine thanks for my thoughtfulness! Her maid was evasive, and after a good beating she finally admitted that Cornelia has been leaving this house every night for months. To spend her nights with some legionary!”

Marcella glanced at her sister, expecting an explosion. Color flared in Cornelia’s cheeks, but she was silent. Marcella thought of her odd sleepiness the past few months—her long walks—her extended trips to the bathhouse . . .

“Cornelia,” she said admiringly, “I didn’t think you had it in you!”

A flick of a smile from her sister, but it was doused fast enough as Tullia began shrieking again.