“My mother taught Sabina and me to do the household accounts,” Faustina said absently. “Sabina didn’t apply herself much, but I did. What’s that tablet there?”

“Copies of orders made from a quarry. If you look here…”

Half an hour later, Faustina blew out a speculative breath and looked up. “Well,” she said, “you’re being cheated.”

Titus looked over the spread of scrolls, tablets, slates, and scribbled scraps now occupying the entire table. “I know.”

“I suppose you’re not being cheated, really,” Faustina amended. “But Trajan’s public baths are. Someone’s skimming off the building funds, and they’re skimming a lot.”

“I came to that conclusion myself last week,” Titus said, glum. “The question is, who’s the thief, and what can I do about it. Because this isn’t some freedman lining his purse with a bit skimmed off the top.”

“It comes down to a question of access,” Faustina said. “Who has the reach for this kind of skimming?”

“I’ve looked into that matter all week, and I can tell you that not one of my underlings could be responsible for anything on this level. They simply don’t have the influence—I don’t have it myself.” Titus looked at Faustina in surprise. “Did your mother instruct you in the finer points of financial fraud as well as household accounts?”

“Of course. Slaves and freedmen are always trying to skim.” Faustina twisted her wet hair into a rope, pulling it over one shoulder. “Flour stolen from the storeroom or marble stolen from the quarry delivery; it’s all just money. And it seems to me that if you want to find your thief, you have two choices. Start looking up the ladder…”

“Or?”

“Or don’t. Because whoever’s stealing this much won’t want to stop, and if they’re higher up than you, it’s not someone you want angry.”

Titus thought of the bathhouse, its walls rising from the foundations now as gracefully as Faustina had risen from the pool. “I shall take it under advisement.”

They sat in silence for a while. Titus tapped a stylus slowly against the table. Faustina piled her wet hair on top of her head, the curved ends still sending drops of water sliding down her neck.

“You’re going to try to stop this anyway, aren’t you?” she said at last.

“Well, yes.” The Imperial household… Empress Plotina had hundreds of stewards and secretaries with oversight into official projects; any one of them might be using the Imperial name to help themselves. He said as much to Faustina.

“It’s a start.” Faustina took the stylus out of Titus’s hand, jabbing it through the knot of her wet hair to keep it in place. “Be careful, Titus.”