Cornelia paid no attention to the murmurs this time, the ripple of speculation that greeted her emeralds and Praetorians. She just knelt, one among many, bowing her head.

Great Juno, an emperor must have a son and heir. Give me a son. Surely with Fortuna’s wheel spinning herself and Piso so high, they would find good luck in this as well?

Eight years married, and never a sign of a child. Never a miscarriage. Never even one week’s lateness with her monthly bleeding.

Cornelia stared up at the stern marble face. Oh, Juno. Just hear me.

The crush was thicker as the Praetorians beat a path back to the litter—curious women crowding close to see every detail of their future Empress: what she wore, how she carried myself, what she looked like. Cornelia did not find it quite so comforting as she had before. She sighed a little as Densus assisted her back into the litter.

He spoke unexpectedly. “Juno will answer your prayers, Lady.”

“Prayers?” Cornelia blinked.

“For—whatever you pray for. She’ll hear you.” He fell back before Cornelia could wonder if he knew what it was she prayed for so hard.

“—so big and golden, Marcella, you can’t imagine! And so strong—he can hump me while standing up and holding me in the air, it’s absolutely divine. He was shy at first, but I just kept asking for massages until he got the idea—”

“—settled in well to the Reds stables, though there was a bout of bad grain. I’m not ruling out poison, those Blues will try anything—”

“Both of you hurry up,” Marcella said, not troubling to hide her annoyance. Lollia on one arm droning about her pet stud, Diana on the other droning about her blasted Reds—between the two of them, it was a wonder she wasn’t dead from boredom. Dear Fortuna, didn’t her cousins have any unexpressed thoughts? “Hurry up! I want to get to the Domus Aurea.”

“—don’t know why you had to drag us away from the Campus Martius,” Diana complained. “I was watching the tribunes race their teams. Not one of them fit to drive a real race, of course—”

“—to put it in words Diana can understand, Thrax is an absolute stallion!” Lollia was bubbling, oblivious. “I suppose I shouldn’t be saying such things, Diana being unmarried and all, but surely you know the facts of life, my honey. Horses are always humping each other.”

“Maybe so,” Marcella snapped, “but at least they don’t talk about it.”