“You have no right to help yourself illegally to public funds,” he returned. “But if you wish to discuss it before your slaves, I will do so.”

Plotina stared. Behind Titus, the steward stood pop-eyed. Two slave girls folding Plotina’s silks looked up, startled, and a third girl whispered behind her hand to the page boy holding Plotina’s cup of barley water.

“Leave us,” said the Empress.

Titus waited until the last slave had filed out, and the door swung shut. “Thank you,” he said, and sat uninvited. He wore a tunic and sandals—not even the dignity of a toga!—and he was unshaven as though he’d risen straight from bed without a stop at the bathhouse.

“Is this how you call upon your Empress?” Plotina said icily. “With a stubbled chin and a mouthful of wild accusations?”

He produced a handful of scrolls, arraying them across her desk. “Hardly wild.”

Plotina glanced at the first scroll. “What, are you pretending these come from my private accounts? I assure you, I review my accounts daily and nothing is missing.”

“I made sure of that. My informant put copies into your study after bringing me the originals.”

Informant? Plotina snatched across the desk to tear open the first scroll. Just a line or two was enough to chill her to the bone. “How did you lay hands on my private papers?” One of the slaves? I’ll have the wretch crucified, I’ll—

“Never mind who brought them to me. They’re long gone, and you won’t find them.”

“How dare you—”

“I’m very tired, Lady. I spent most of a week untangling your cheap little financial schemes, and most of another week wondering what to do about it all. So I’ll be plain.” Titus brushed the hair out of his eyes, looking at her squarely. “You have been stealing funds, Empress Plotina, and I can prove it. From the building monies set aside for the Emperor’s public baths, from the alimenta program, and from other projects as well.”

“I do not have to explain myself to the likes of you.” Plotina summoned all the crispness she could manage. Crisp but impersonal, yes, as if she were dealing with an impertinent slave. “An empress has reasons of which a common little man like you knows nothing.”

“I’m not interested in your reasons, Lady.”

Ah. Plotina sat back a little in her chair, feeling the ground begin to solidify beneath her. “What are you interested in, then?”

He looked at her silently.

“You can hardly want a rich wife, considering the fortune left to you by your grandfather. But perhaps you would like to add something a bit more illustrious to your title than quaestor.” She lifted an inviting hand. “Would consul suit you better? I can see your name on the list for next year.”