“Not a bit.” She turned, her hand still tucked into my elbow. “Are you, Tribune?”

I’d have known him for one of the well-born even without the rank Sabina gave him. Only the rich and powerful wore a toga that snowy clean, and wore it without tripping over the heavy folds like us commoners. This tribune was a tall man, perhaps twenty-six; not as tall as me but broader. Dark hair curling closely over a massive handsome head; broad calm features, deep-set eyes. Bearded, which wasn’t usual for Romans. He held the folds of his toga against his chest with one large ringed hand and looked down at Sabina with calm disapproval.

“You should not be here, Lady.”

“Why not?”

“Your father has a box. Far safer for a girl.”

“I’m safe enough with my escort here.”

His eyes shifted to me. Just one quick glance and I knew he could describe me in detail a year from now, from my worn sandals to my shaggy hair to the amulet about my neck, which, from the twitch of his heavy eyelid, he clearly thought barbaric.

“Vercingetorix,” said Sabina. “Meet Publius Aelius Hadrian, tribunus plebis.”

“What’s that?” I asked, not bowing. “A legionary officer?”

“No, that’s a different kind of tribune. Hadrian’s kind is a sort of magistrate. The first step toward becoming a praetor.”

“There are other responsibilities.” Hadrian’s eyes swept me again. “And who is this?” he asked Sabina.

“A client of my father’s.”

“Ah.” Faint surprise. “Senator Norbanus always did have odd clients.”

“He does,” Sabina agreed. “I like them. One learns so much.”

“You have strange tastes, Vibia Sabina.”

“Doesn’t she?” I said. “I think it’s sweet.”

The tribune’s eyes lingered a moment on my arm, where Sabina’s hand was still tucked, then dismissed me. “If you will not be escorted back to your box, Vibia Sabina, I will take my leave. I dislike the races. Too many horses die, and I hate to hear them scream.”

Another bow to Sabina and he moved off in blind confidence, rippling a path in the crowd for himself. “Stiff patrician bastard,” I growled.

That was the first time I met Publius Aelius Hadrian. What a lot of trouble I’d have saved if I’d just killed the bastard on sight.

SABINA

How nice, Sabina reflected, to have someone large and male on hand in a crowd. She followed easily behind Vix as he shouldered through the delirious crush of Reds fans—the Reds had taken the final race and won the day’s majoity. “My aunt Diana will never forgive me if I don’t come congratulate her,” Sabina shouted over the roar of applause as the Reds completed their last preening victory lap, and let Vix bull a path down into the sea of red now crowding the arena.