“Well, you’re not Rome’s only prince,” Marcella said lightly. “When does your brother arrive with his armies? I suppose your father will pronounce him heir . . .”

“Don’t count on it,” Domitian scowled, and, trapping Marcella in his arms, he kissed her. She let him plaster kisses on her neck for a while, wondering how long this obsession of his was going to last now that he was a member of the Imperial family and could have any woman he wanted. I might have the best breasts in Rome, but now he has all the breasts in Rome to choose from. Well, Domitian had had his uses, but Marcella thought she wouldn’t be entirely sorry when his eye wandered on to someone new. Perhaps she could find another man to nurture along in some interesting new direction. Someone older than Domitian, more intelligent and promising . . .

Vespasian’s older son, Titus, arrived a week later with the first of the eastern legions and proceeded to restore order, efficiently preparing the celebrations that would welcome his father to Rome in another few weeks. Titus: Marcella’s mental pen sketched him thoughtfully. Perhaps ten years older than Domitian, black-eyed and ruddy-faced like his brother but with a constant smile instead of his brother’s scowl.

“Titus was always the nicest of my husbands.” Lollia wrinkled her nose affectionately at Titus’s stocky figure as he strode into the Senate house in the armor he wore like a second skin. “I hardly ever saw him, but he was always kind. He’s already sent me a message, saying of course he won’t take Flavia away from me to raise now that he’s back in Rome. He just wants me to bring her for a visit soon, so she can meet his other daughter. Julia, I think her name is. I’m sure they’ll be great friends, just like all of us. Sisters need each other. But wasn’t that nice of Titus to take a moment to put my mind at ease with everything else he has going on? He was always splendid, but never too grand to be kind. Not like Domitian—royal or not he’s just a pimply black-eyed thug.” She shuddered. “Always sneaking into the bathhouse when he was younger, trying to watch me bathing. Is he still in love with you, Marcella?”

“Not for long, I’m sure.”