His hands gripped her long waist, skimmed her round breasts, buried themselves in her hair. She pressed herself against him hungrily, and the strap of her dress fell down her arm and the warm silk of her bare shoulder was under his mouth. She murmured wordlessly, tugging him backward without ever moving away, until they fetched up hard against the wall of the house, out of sight from the garden or the atrium. Faustina pulled his head down again, and the other strap of her dress slid down, and Titus could have drowned in her hyacinth scent.

A shutter slammed open on the other side of the house, and Titus heard the sound of a woman’s stifled sob. A slave, perhaps, grieving for a kind master as she went about her duties. The sound brought Titus out of himself; sent a wash of confused shame through him. Not one hour ago I heard the Emperor of Rome was dead—and I’m undressing his great-niece against a wall? Marcus’s daughter…

Faustina had stilled in his arms, as if the world had suddenly come rushing back to her too, and as if she found it a frightening place. “My father is dead,” she said in a thin voice, and just leaned her head against Titus’s chest.

He held her quietly. On the other side of the house there was another slam as the shutters banged closed, and another muffled sniff of suppressed tears. Definitely a slave woman. Soon, Titus supposed, another slave would be sent to look for the daughter of the house.

He stepped away from the gentle weight of Faustina’s head against his shoulder, and somehow that was harder than stepping away from her kisses. “I suppose you thought you’d seduce me, and then I’d be honor-bound to marry you?” His voice came out reasonably steady, and his hand too as he eased the shoulders of her dress back up. “I’m afraid that’s not going to work.”

“I didn’t really think it would, but it was worth a try.” Faustina met his eyes square, her blond hair uncoiling down her back from its neat pins, her mouth swollen from kissing and her eyes swollen from tears. Her voice, though, was pure steel. “I am not giving you up, Titus.”

“I’m going to die, don’t you understand?” He said it brutally. “Once Plotina sees her precious protégé crowned, she’ll start settling old scores. She’ll probably send a squad of butchers for me in the middle of the night. So for once in your life, Faustina, won’t you do as you’re told and stay away from me?”