“Dear Publius has become the son my husband always wanted,” she said instead. Perhaps that was not strictly true either, but all in good time. “I would not see Dear Publius as deprived as the Emperor. He will require sons, and sooner rather than later. You must—”

A familiar deep voice in the doorway interrupted her. “How domestic you both look. ‘Juno and her daughter-in-law Venus, busy at their looms.’”

“Flatterer!” Sabina laughed up at Hadrian. “That’s the first time anyone’s ever compared me to Venus.”

You give me just as many headaches as Venus gives Juno, I’m sure. But Plotina looked at Dear Publius, noble as a column in his crisp toga, and held up her cheek for his kiss. “My dear, I was hoping to catch you.”

“Don’t tell me. The legate’s post?”

“How well informed you are.” Plotina sighed. “I should have known you’d charm it out of some freedman.”

“So? What legion did you get?” Sabina gave a crisp little military salute as Hadrian bent to greet the trio of hunting dogs who had loped in from the gardens at his footsteps and were now winding eagerly around his feet. “Where is it stationed? Egypt, Syria, Britannia—”

Hadrian tousled the ears of his favorite coursing hound, glancing over at Plotina. “What, our dear Empress didn’t tell you?”

“Our dear Empress knows everything,” Sabina said sweetly. “How to raise children, raise public morals, and raise cultural standards in the provinces all at the same time! But her omnipotence must have failed her this time around.”

Hadrian frowned at the same time Plotina did, but he didn’t reprove his wife. He never does. Sabina took entirely too teasing a tone with Dear Publius, at least for Plotina’s taste, but he didn’t seem to mind. He almost seemed to enjoy it!

“So?” Sabina abandoned her loom and danced up to him, looking like a child waiting for a gift. “Where are we going, Legate?”

He straightened from the dogs, tweaking Sabina’s cheek in what Plotina could only call affection. You weren’t supposed to be fond of her, the Empress wanted to snap. She was merely supposed to be useful.

But she wasn’t useful, and he was fond, and none of it had quite worked out like Plotina had planned.

“I believe a toast is called for.” Hadrian held out a hand, and a well-trained slave instantly filled it with a cup. “To our coming days in…”

“Well?” Sabina bounced on her toes. Plotina lifted her eyebrows.

“Germania,” he relented. “To be specific, Moguntiacum.”

TITUS