I wrapped my arms around her, kissing the back of her neck. I kissed my way around to her ear, and she turned her face toward me in the dark.

“You really want me to come with you?” she whispered, lips brushing mine.

My fingers brushed her stomach, and I felt suddenly guilty. “I shouldn’t have asked. The baby—”

“I am not one of these wilting women who sit indoors for nine months and won’t lift so much as a cup,” Mirah said sternly. “I can ride in a wagon without any harm to little Hannibal Emmanuel. If you want me.”

“Oh, I want you all right…”

Two days later I had my orders from the Emperor, a case full of dispatches for the Tenth’s legate, and a new side-to-side centurion’s crest for my helmet. The day after that I loaded Mirah and her budding belly into a traveling train, promised I’d meet her in Antioch, bid farewell to my eighty new relatives, and started north.

“Good luck,” Simon said a little sourly. He’d never really approved of Mirah marrying me. I suppose it’s difficult to watch your favorite niece wed a man you used to go whoring with.

“Syrus says that no man by fearing ever reaches the top,” Titus said more cheerfully. “Good thing you’re not afraid of anything, isn’t it, Slight?”

I hardly heard either of them; just ruffled a hand over my new centurion’s crest and set my eyes forward.

PLOTINA

“I don’t understand, Lady.”

“I think you do, Gnaeus Avidius.” Plotina pushed a slate across her desk at the lean praetor who managed Trajan’s newest building project. “My secretaries brought the discrepancy to my attention, and I checked the numbers myself. You have been skimming money from the building funds for the Emperor’s new forum.”

“Lady, I assure you—”

“Spare me the protestations of innocence.” Serenely, Plotina flicked a speck of dust from the surface of her desk. “New supplies ordered here, never delivered; an order of stone there, never quarried. Quite a few sesterces you’ve managed to pocket, Gnaeus Avidius.”

“Then someone in my pay is skimming. I assure you it isn’t me, and I will provide my own accounts to prove it if necessary.” The praetor picked up her slate, frowning. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Lady. I will apprehend the thief and have him removed at once.”

“Did I ask you to take such steps?” Plotina looked up at the ceiling, ruminative. The molding in the corner was cracked—why hadn’t her steward repaired it? Honestly, did the Empress of Rome have to attend to everything herself? “The funds set aside for the forum are lavish. Some… leakage… is to be expected. I would be willing to let the matter slide, for a small consideration. Shall we say half?”