“The ripples tell me I will visit Egypt.” Hadrian’s eyes never blinked as he watched the pool smooth to glass again. “But not for some years, which is a pity. I would like to see the Nile in flood. And I’ve long thought the style of their buildings interesting. The hypostyle hall I’ve heard about, in the Temple of Amun at Karnak—I may add such a hall to my villa, when I finally build it.”

He had not spoken so civilly to Sabina in more than a year. Then again, I’ve hardly spent more than two weeks of that year in his company. If her husband would rather sit hunched over his ambitions than travel the world, Sabina had no intention of following suit. She rather thought she might go to Epidaurus next. The Asclepeion was famous; people came from all over the world to be healed there of their ills. I could work in the dream hall with the sacred snakes; see if the priests are really bilking the pilgrims out of their money for false cures. If they are, I’ll write Trajan in a heartbeat and put a stop to it…

“I haven’t heard you talk about your villa in a long time,” Sabina said finally. If Hadrian could be civil, she was more than happy to follow suit. “Are you finally going to begin building?”

“When I have the funds. When I am Emperor.”

Sabina nudged away the hounds who were now sniffing at Neferu’s dangling tail. “Still nursing impossible hopes, I see.”

“Impossible?” Hadrian looked over his shoulder with that superior expression that always made her fingers itch. “The Castallian Fount assures me it is inevitable.”

“It’s a pool of water.” Sabina’s voice was blunt. “You are dreaming if you think Trajan will make you his heir.”

“What do you know about it? My efforts have been invaluable to his campaign; without me his legions would have no supplies—”

“Yes, and I’m sure he’ll give you a clap on the back and another consulship when he’s done. But not the Empire.”

“Plotina assures me—”

“Plotina isn’t here to whisper in Trajan’s ear. I am, though. Even off in Egypt, I wrote Trajan letters every month, and I’ll bet he reads mine with more pleasure than Plotina’s. Unlike her, I make him laugh. What do you think we laugh about? Or rather, who?”

Hadrian whipped about with his hunter’s speed, raising one hand. Neferu lifted her pointed face from Sabina’s arm and hissed.

“Hit me if you like,” Sabina said. “I’ll show Trajan the bruise. I’m to dine with him this evening. He invited me. Did he invite you?”

Hadrian lowered his hand. His face was expressionless. “You will regret this, Vibia Sabina.”