Hadrian nodded his thanks, utterly ignoring Vix, who stood behind the eagle standard doing his best imitation of a post.

“At least on our march we had a chance to pass through Pannonia,” Titus continued, keeping his eyes scrupulously away from Vix. “Very fortunate, sir.”

“I’ve heard the Pannonians wear wolf-skin breeches and sacrifice to horned gods,” said Sabina, “but you can never be sure about these rumors. I certainly didn’t see any horned gods lying around when we were marching through to Dacia. And come to think of it, we heard the same sort of things about Dacians too, and they were all quite civilized. Solar discs and piped water rather than blood rituals and human sacrifices… I can’t wait to see how the Pannonians turn out on a closer acquaintance.”

“You will be accompanying the governor to Pannonia?” Titus addressed her as formally as if they had never shared a wineskin around a campfire in their lives.

“Oh, I wouldn’t miss it,” said Sabina. “New provinces, new horizons. I can’t wait.”

Under the lion skin, Vix’s chin jerked.

“I see,” said Titus, and offered Hadrian another bow. “My congratulations once again, Governor.”

A second bow to Sabina, and a nod to Vix in which horror and amusement were blended just about equally. Sabina repressed a smile, but Vix was not smiling.

“You’re going to Pannonia—Lady?” he demanded, barely remembering the honorific.

“Of course.” She waved to someone nonexistent on the other side of the steps, angling them both away from Hadrian, who was perusing his pile of wax tablets again. “My father will probably send me three scrolls on Pannonia’s recent history, a list of recommended reading, and a request that I please check up on the new aqueduct the Senate paid for and tell him if it’s being built on schedule. He says it’s been very useful having a daughter who travels—gives him an extra pair of eyes all over the Empire, as it were.”

“So you’ll be staying a while in Pannonia?” Vix lowered his voice. She could see his big hard fingers tightening on the standard pole.

“I don’t know.” She tucked a lock of hair behind one ear. “Most governorships last a few years.”

“Years—” His jaw hardened. “Never thought to ask me about that, did you? When you made your plans!”

“I didn’t make any plans,” she pointed out. “I only found out about Pannonia two minutes ago.”

“But you were going to stay with the Tenth!” he hissed, barely audible. “With me!”

“Never thought to ask me about that, did you?”

His fingers had fused around the standard pole. Sabina hoped he wouldn’t crack it in half. “You bitch,” he whispered.

“Why?” she asked, puzzled.

“I told you I loved you,” he said in a ferocious whisper. “I went spinning dreams about the future and now you tell me you’re just—”