“He didn’t use to.” In their earlier years of marriage, he had never once questioned Sabina’s private life. As far as Hadrian was concerned, a wife who was discreet and brought no shame on her husband’s good name with an unexplained bastard or a public scandal could call her bed her own—and he hadn’t even insisted that she produce a few sons first, the way most husbands would. But after Dacia, the topic of discreet love affairs had somehow become sore. “Did you share your tent with common legionaries while we were on campaign?” he had said bluntly, two granite-carved lines suddenly bracketing his mouth. That had been the night of Trajan’s celebration in Mog, after he’d told her to start behaving herself and she’d stalked out in her wet dress. “A tribune or an officer, a man of your own stature—that is one thing, but low-born soldiers are beyond all propriety or shame. Did you?”

“No,” Sabina had said, not lying. She had not shared her tent with anyone, after all; she’d slept away from it most nights. And never with more than one soldier. The key to telling good lies was telling as much truth as possible. Hadrian had turned away without comment and never mentioned the subject again.

But maybe that’s when the questions started, Sabina thought. Where did you go? Whom did you see? Why did you smile?

“So tell me again,” Faustina was saying. “I don’t like Hadrian, Father doesn’t like Hadrian, Emperor Trajan doesn’t like Hadrian—so why did you marry him? You could have had anybody.”

“I’m not altogether sorry I did marry him.” Sabina rose, stretching in the steam. She kept her voice light. “We used to have such wonderful conversations. And even now, at least you can’t say life with Publius Aelius Hadrian is dull.”

Faustina looked at her quizzically. “Is that all that matters?”

Calpurnia bustled back into the room, cheeks glowing from the cold water of the pool in the next room. “Are you girls done with your gossip now? Sabina, if you’ve persuaded Faustina to either become a Vestal or elope with a gladiator, I’m going to be very cross with you.”

“Not at all.” Faustina sounded demure. “Sabina’s given me some very useful advice about marriage. A girl should learn from her older sister, don’t you think?”

“Not too much,” said Sabina. “So, you have suitors now? Tell me all about them…”