“Perhaps I am not entirely happy,” he said at last, yanking the belt of his tunic with a snap. “Perhaps I would rather go to Greece with you than battle Lusius Quietus for command of the Third Parthica, all so I can take part in a war I believe pointless. It doesn’t matter in the slightest.”

“Doesn’t it?” Sabina drew up her legs until she sat cross-legged on the bed. “Tell me why.” Tell me anything, husband. Just talk to me.

“I am not destined to spend my days wandering Greece and reading books.” He folded his arms across his chest, looking down at her. “That is all.”

“Yes, destiny. You told me you’d always known what yours was.”

“I am going to be Emperor of Rome.”

Sabina stared at him. His hair and beard looked almost black in the lamplight, and the blade of his nose threw a deep shadow across his cheek. His gaze was steady, his expression neutral, his body as relaxed as if in sleep. He looked quite calm.

“I had my horoscope drawn up when I was a boy,” Hadrian continued as conversationally as if they were discussing the weather. “The astrologer said—”

Sabina burst out laughing. Hadrian’s face stiffened coldly and she choked the laughter off, but she could still feel it bubbling in her throat. “An astrologer? You’ve based your life’s decisions on a horoscope?”

“A great many astrologers are frauds, but Nessus was different,” Hadrian snapped. “I never heard him get a word wrong when it came to the future.”

“Emperor Domitian’s astrologer; you told me.” She knew the name well, though the famous seer was long retired. “You told me he predicted you would see more of the world than any man in Rome.”

“He did tell me that. He also told me I would become Emperor.”

“And that’s why Plotina is always trying—”

“I never told her about the prophecy. I’ve never told anyone.” A peculiar note crept into his voice. “I don’t know why I’m telling you now.”

“It’s not much of a secret,” Sabina pointed out. “One prophecy—how many astrologers have whispered thrones to ambitious men, hoping for a few extra coins?”

“Not just one prophecy. Ever since the day Nessus made his prediction, I made my own study of the stars and how to read them. Every year I draw my own horoscope, and every year I have to burn it. Because they all say that I will be Emperor.”

Sabina laughed again but more quietly, shaking her head. “And I always thought you such a man of logic.”

“It will happen. I can feel it.”

“But do you even want to be Emperor?”

“Does that matter?” He shrugged. “I will be, whether I wish it or not.”

She stared at him. “You’re serious.”

“When do I joke, Vibia Sabina?”