“I doubt the men care if I wave at them,” said Sabina. “They just want to be dismissed so they can go get drunk with their families.”

“Let us hope they spend the day in sober thanks for their victories,” said the Empress.

“You’re lucky if they’re sober for the victory itself,” Sabina snorted. “Much less the celebration after.”

“That dress is very bright.” Hadrian flicked a speck of dust from her shoulder. “And eagles are really better suited for a standard pole than a brooch.”

Trajan came bounding back, raising his arm to another wave of cheers. He spoke a few words of thanks that had the legionaries cuffing their eyes, but not too many words—Trajan, Sabina had observed before, knew how to keep things brief. “Keep your battles short and your speeches shorter,” he often said. Hadrian, observing how well it worked for the Emperor, was now modifying his own speeches to suit.

“Your officials expect to speak with you,” Plotina said the moment Trajan rejoined her side. “Preparations for the celebratory banquet this evening—”

“I’ll be wanting to speak with them as well.” Trajan waved a good-natured hand. “They’re to invite the tribunes to join us this evening as well as the legates. Camp prefects and first centurions too.”

“Husband, surely not. They are very rough.”

“Gods’ bones, at least they’ll liven things up! And we’ll have someone else too—” Trajan spoke a brief word to his aide, who went dashing off into the throng. A few moments later he returned, dragging along a man in a red cloak with a lion’s mane over his hair and a standard pole in his hand.

“Caesar.” Vix dropped to one knee, but Trajan raised him with a wave.

“Here’s the man we have to thank for killing Decebalus! You’ll plant that head before the Senate house at the triumph, boy. With your own hand.”

“I believe the governor requires your attention,” Plotina sniffed.

“Oh, very well. You’ll come to that banquet tonight, Aquilifer—that’s an Imperial order.”

“Yes, Caesar.” Vix grinned, snapping off a salute.

“Good, good.” Trajan held his arm out for his wife. Just before they vanished into the hovering throng of well-wishers, he gave Sabina an approving glance over one shoulder and shouted, “I like the eagles!”

Sabina laughed. Hadrian made a motion to follow the Emperor, but Titus approached, tall and impressive in the toga he had donned the moment he could get out of his armor. He had always been skinny, but a summer’s marching had filled him out to a pleasant leanness. He looked like a handsome young man now, not an uncertain boy.

“Legate, I had just heard news of your governorship.” Titus’s eyes had a brief flick of horror to see Hadrian, Vix, and Sabina all converged together, but his polite mask never faltered. You will make a good politician, Sabina thought. “My congratulations, sir.”