“To wake you up.” Faustina stood at the lip of the pool, hands on hips as she glowered down at him. “What does it take to get your attention, Titus? Most men need a hint now and then, but you need to be bashed over the head with a brick!”

“Um.” The heavy sodden folds of his toga weighed him down in the water; he began working himself loose of the soaked wool. “I’m afraid I don’t follow you.”

A pair of curious slaves passing by with baskets of gravel paused to peer in, drawn by the voices and the splashing. “Out!” Faustina yelled, and they disappeared hastily. She turned back to Titus with another withering look.

“You think I go around bribing Imperial freedmen for all my suitors?” Faustina continued. “You think I put on my best dress on the hottest afternoon of the year to casually drop in on all the unmarried men in Rome? You think I spy on the Empress for every admirer I have?”

Titus wondered if she expected answers to these questions. Oh, maybe not. He yanked half a ton of sodden toga over his head and tossed it into the other end of the pool with a splash. The wet tunic he wore underneath wouldn’t weigh him down too much if he had to get out of the pool and make a run for it…

“I was prepared to be patient—Father didn’t want me marrying too young anyway, so I thought that would give you time. But this is getting ridiculous.” Faustina folded her arms across her breasts. “I know you’ve been mooning after my sister for years, but—”

Titus spluttered again, not from the water this time. “What?”

“You told me yourself. When I was five years old, and you carried me home from her wedding.”

“Um. You were so young, you couldn’t possibly remember—”

“I’ve seen it for myself every time you look at Sabina. Everyone in Rome knows! Your Ennia even gave me a warning—she said I’d have a rare problem with you and your ridiculous romantic obsession with the first fascinating girl who ever took an interest in you. When, I might add, you were younger than I am now!”

Titus wondered again if flight was an option. But Faustina was blocking the only steps up out of the pool, and she didn’t look like she was moving anytime soon. He hoped the cold water was hiding the blush he could feel spreading to the tips of his ears.

“I don’t mind that you’ve been in love with my sister,” Faustina continued. “She is fascinating, and she’s much cleverer than me. But she’d make you miserable with all her trotting around the world, and here I am. Much prettier than Sabina, and better suited to you. You think Sabina ever taught herself how to make your favorite lamb stew?”