Hadrian’s eyes lifted from the pool at his feet and traveled deliberately over Sabina from top to toe. “Aren’t you cold?” He eyed the thin linen shift stopping well short of her ankles, the ankh pendant looped about her throat, the golden tan she’d picked up riding a camel to see the great pyramids where the old pharaohs had been buried.

“The cold feels lovely after Egypt.”

“You should still cover yourself like a decent woman. And what’s that?”

“This is Neferu.” Sabina scratched the slim neck of the cat in her arms. Hadrian’s ever-present pair of hunting hounds whined, and the cat stretched her elongated body and hissed at them. She had sleek dark fur, a haughty triangular face, and huge ears pierced with gold hoop earrings.

Hadrian ran a hand down Neferu’s long back; she purred and arched into his fingers. Horses and dogs adored Hadrian, Sabina had noticed often enough—she wasn’t surprised that cats did too. “I’ll never understand why the Egyptians put earrings on their cats,” he observed.

“Neferu’s a sacred cat. A gift from the priest at the Temple of Bastet when I stayed for the rites in Bubastis.”

Hadrian’s brows contracted. “More orgies and strange rituals?”

“Actually, I was trapped for two weeks when the Nile flooded unexpectedly, and I pitched in to help gather the harvest before it could spoil. The priests invited me to their rites afterward, in thanks.” Sabina lifted scornful brows. “And since when is any god you haven’t heard of automatically worshipped with an orgy? You didn’t use to be so provincial, Hadrian.”

He gave her a cold glance but returned his eyes to the spring. Sabina tickled Neferu’s chin, gazing about. The Gardens of Daphne were famous: a walled gorge a few miles from Antioch, studded with laurel and cypress groves even in the winter, artful cascades of water spilling between the sculpted banks. Sabina could hear soft voices and pattering footsteps as Antiochene couples idled the winding paths. But Hadrian stood alone, staring into the spring.

“The steward says you spend a great deal of time here,” she said. “The few hours you’re not working.”

He ignored her. “Will I go to Egypt someday?” he whispered, not to Sabina, and tossed a small coin into the spring. He crouched down, watching intently as the water’s calm surface rippled.

“So what is the all-seeing Castallian Fount telling you this time?” Sabina put just a touch of mockery into her voice.