No conversation now as the teams pulled into the straightaway. Just Blue and Red battling it out, axles clashing, the outside horses snapping at each, both charioteers laying their whips on. Every soul in the circus was on their feet, shrieking, screaming, begging for a victory. Sour-faced Emperor Galba was busy shuffling his lists and counting his sesterces when the Reds pulled ahead, confounding all the odds to beat the Blues in the climactic race of the Ludi Plebii.

The circus exploded.

Diana yelled in triumph and flung her arms around the nearest person, who happened to be Marcella. She laughed and hugged her craziest cousin back, ruffling the mess of untidy hair. Cornelia and Piso were hugging each other too, Lollia was tossing little Flavia up in the air, and Otho looked amused. Below, the Reds charioteer blinked as he was presented with his victory palm. The Blues charioteer snapped his whip spitefully over the heads of the exhausted Reds team, making them jump and making every Reds fan in the circus from Diana to the lowest pleb leap up shrieking obscenities.

“By Jove,” Otho said as Diana shouted down at the Blues charioteer, “I’ve not heard such fine cursing since my days in the legions.”

The party was spilling outward now, and Lollia bubbled invitations to everyone to come to her house, where the winning charioteer would be hosted. “I will not have racing riffraff in my home!” Old Flaccid sniffed.

“Then I’ll throw a party for him at my grandfather’s house,” Lollia said sweetly, and Marcella laughed behind her hand to see how Otho’s entourage of beautiful glossy people brightened at the prospect of a free meal from the table of such a famous host. Senator Vinius kept hissing imprecations, flapping his wrinkled hands, and Lollia rolled her eyes openly. Marcella gave Old Flaccid another month before Lollia wangled herself a divorce.

“I thank this is my cue to go.” Otho bowed over Marcella’s hand. “I’ll be at the party later, of course—when do I ever miss a good party?—but for the time being I should go apply myself to all the dullards so they’ll all think I’m capable and well informed.”

“You are capable and well-informed, Senator,” Marcella said. “I hear you did a very good work as Governor of Hispania last year.”

“Really? I didn’t think anyone noticed.” He wandered off, calling greetings.

Cornelia and Piso had been summoned to the palace to dine with the Emperor, but the rest of the family flooded back toward the house of Lollia’s grandfather, Diana leading the charge with her arm slung companionably about the victorious charioteer. Wine at once began to flow and music to soar, and Marcella collapsed in a corner with a cup of wine to watch everything. Because that’s what I do best, she thought. Marcella, keeper of history and watcher of emperors.