Titus declared the formal resumption of trade in Rome, and with such reassurances Lollia’s grandfather was back in a trice from Ostia. He was ordering new mosaics and new wine barrels before he even got through the door, and within two days he hosted a lavish banquet to cultivate every contact he had with the new Emperor. The guest of honor was little Flavia. “She’s a person of importance now,” Lollia’s grandfather said happily the following day, watching his great-granddaughter drive Diana around his atrium on all fours, lashing a long-stemmed lily for a driving whip. “Granddaughter to the Emperor! Lollia, my jewel, there’s not an ambitious man in Rome who doesn’t want to be Flavia’s newest stepfather. I’ve had inquiries already for your hand, and vetted every suitor—not a man among them to lay a hand on you! You could have your pick, and we might arrange a wedding in the new year—”

“No one ever offered me my pick of suitors,” Marcella complained. “It was just ‘Here’s a husband for you; I hope you have a dress; be ready in a week.’ ”

But Lollia wasn’t listening, just giving a deep dreamy smile as Thrax came into the atrium, scooping up Flavia and scolding her softly.

“Thanks.” Diana sat back on her heels, spitting out the ribbon Flavia had strung between her teeth for a bridle. “I’ve got more sympathy for my team now.”

Diana was back with her father, who had returned to the city lugging a just-begun bust of the new Emperor. Gaius and Tullia were slower to return, so slow Cornelia had the house entirely tidied by the time they came back. Small thanks she got for it, Marcella thought, since Tullia embarked at once on the rant over Cornelia’s ruined morals that had been so inconveniently interrupted by the invasion of Rome.

“I’m afraid that will have to wait, Tullia.” Cornelia fixed Gaius with a stern gaze. “Brother, I need to speak with you.” Doors closed firmly behind them.

“And I should inspect the house!” Tullia clicked off down the hall. “Though what condition it’s in, I don’t like to think—if that slut Cornelia can’t keep her own morals in order, I shudder to think what she’s made of my spare rooms.”

“Actually, everything looks perfect,” Marcella said as Tullia bustled upstairs. “Though doubtless you’ll still find something to complain about.”

“Just wait till I tell Gaius!” Tullia’s voice floated down the stairs. “Not two minutes home, and you’re picking quarrels!”

“Only with you, Tullia. Only with you.”

They had a guest within the day: Senator Marcus Norbanus, released from prison now and come to collect little Paulinus. “Marcus!” Marcella greeted him gaily. “Delightful to see you again.”