“She couldn’t resist me five years ago, when I was a guard in her father’s house.” Vix kissed the side of her neck complacently. “And she can’t resist me now.”

“Maybe it’s not that long a story after all,” Sabina concluded. “Though if we’re talking about who couldn’t resist who, Vix—”

Five years ago. So when I was bringing her violets and Hadrian was quoting her poetry…

Oh, dear gods. Hadrian.

“You’re both utterly mad,” Titus burst out. “You think Legate Hadrian won’t find out? A legion is no place to keep secrets!”

“I’m not keeping any,” Sabina said equably from within the circle of Vix’s arms. They made quite a picture in the flickering firelight: utterly at ease, utterly content. Sabina had laced both her small hands through one of Vix’s big ones, and his long hard fingers played idly with the ends of her plaited hair. “Hadrian already knows I explore more than I should. And he probably assumes I have a lover of some kind. He’s made it clear over the years that he doesn’t mind, as long as there are no inconvenient bastards and as long as I’m discreet.”

Now you tell me, Titus couldn’t help thinking. If I’d known that back in Rome after you married… He thrust that thought away, at least for the present. “Discretion or no, I doubt Hadrian would take kindly to learning you’ve chosen—well, a common legionary.”

She tilted her head to gaze up at Vix. “Hardly common.”

Titus looked at Vix too. “You’d be flogged. Maybe executed.”

“Only if he finds out.” Vix sent a cocksure glance over Sabina’s sleek head. “Who’s going to tell him, Titus? You?”

Titus considered that for a heartbeat. But only a heartbeat. “You’re both mad,” he repeated.

“Possibly,” said Sabina. “Here, I brought a wineskin. Have something to drink before you faint.”

Titus poured out a cup of wine and swallowed it unwatered for the first time in his life. He barely felt the burn as he offered the skin back to Sabina. “I didn’t think you were the kind to take lovers,” he said at last, quietly.

“Does it lessen your opinion of me?” Her smile faded to something gentler. “I’d be very sorry if it did.”

“Why should it?” Vix hooted. “You know what Hadrian is!”

“I suppose only us old-fashioned sorts believe in fidelity anymore.” Titus knew he sounded like a pompous ass, but he couldn’t help it. “Fidelity to our wives, our husbands—and to the mothers of our children, Vercingetorix.”

Vix sent a stare of grim warning over Sabina’s head: Don’t you dare mention Demetra. Titus wondered if he should.

Sabina was still looking at him, her face grave. “I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you, Titus.”