But Plotina rode over Titus’s question. “My husband was stubborn, but several of his legates quite changed their minds and they persuaded him. Just as I told you they would. You must learn to trust me, dear boy.”

“I will never doubt you again.” Hadrian’s tone was gallant. “Cakes?”

“Not until Sabina arrives. Vibia Sabina!”

“A moment,” Sabina called back, blotting her damp palms against her skirt.

A brief inaudible grumble from Plotina, and then Sabina heard Hadrian’s voice again.

“I hadn’t dared hope for a staff position.” Her husband sounded lazy, satisfied, doubtless leaning back on one elbow on the cushions of the dining couch.

“Nonsense, my dear. Your organizational skills, your skill at managing subordinates—so wasted on just one legion. The Emperor may have the leadership of the army, but you will have the management.” Plotina sounded even smugger, if possible. Sabina wondered if the guests were rolling their eyes yet, or just resigning themselves to staying silent and getting drunk. “It would be no exaggeration, Dear Publius, to call you the second man in the Empire just now.”

A maid hastening through the atrium with a tray of honeyed cakes caught sight of Sabina and stumbled. She rescued her balance and the platter, casting one astonished look over her shoulder at her mistress. Sabina laid a cautionary, conspiritorial finger to her lips and the maid gave a shake of her head and marched on into the triclinium.

“We will leave for Antioch well in advance of the Emperor,” Hadrian continued from the other side of the door. “He will count on me to assemble the eastern legions for him.”

“You should maintain a basis in Antioch for the duration of the invasion,” Plotina agreed. “Most convenient.”

“Yes, and I’ve always wanted to see Antioch.” Hadrian’s voice turned musing. Once, Sabina thought, he might have launched into an excited diatribe about Antioch’s famous temples and colonnades, wondering how they compared to Rome’s. Now his voice was pompous as he said, “I’m sure we have much to bring the Antiochenes. One hears they have none of the Roman virtues, and serious discipline is nonexistent—”

Sabina bent to fiddle needlessly with the lace on her sandal. Stop stalling, she told herself. A page boy paused with a decanter of barley water and gazed at his mistress for a wide-eyed moment before remembering himself.

“One hears the Antiochenes are disagreeable company.” The Empress’s nose wrinkled almost audibly on the other side of the door. “Slippery characters. It’s the eastern influence, of course. The men are depraved, and the women are worse. You must take good care to safeguard Sabina’s reputation; you know how she relishes adventure in such places.”

Oh, for gods’ sake. Sabina rose, lifted her chin, and strode toward the door.