But when she tapped at my door that night, I went wordlessly and lifted the bar I’d sworn I wouldn’t lift even if she begged, and she slipped into my arms as if nothing had happened.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you, Vix.” Her voice came quiet in the dark. “I’ve never been in love before, you know—I suppose I mishandled it. I’ll go if you like.”

My voice sounded like a rusty scrape. “No.”

I used her hard that night, twisting my hand painfully tight into her hair, kissing her until her lips were swollen, marking her neck deliberately with my mouth. “Explain that to your betrothed,” I said in a savage whisper, but her arms just tightened wordlessly around me.

“Now you can get out,” I said when I’d finished. “Now that you got what you came for.”

It came through the dark, that low chuckle of hers I’d always liked so much. “Vix,” she said, gathering her clothes, “I do love you.”

PLOTINA

“So you see it all turned out well,” Plotina said contentedly. “I knew it would. Dear Publius has his bride, and his foot on the path. We both know where it will lead, don’t we?”

The massive statue of Juno gazed benignly over Plotina’s head. Rome had a great many statues of the queen of the heavens, but Plotina preferred this one in the Capitoline Hill’s great Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus. This was not Juno as patron of women and marriage, overseeing her worshippers like a good housewife as they prayed for husbands and babies. This was Juno seated on a massive throne at Jupiter’s side, sternly beautiful in her diadem and goatskin cloak. Juno, empress of gods, just as Plotina was empress of mortals.

Plotina had come to the temple immediately after hearing the news, and the priest had shooed away the other worshippers so she could pray in private. But she did not pray, merely sat on the cold marble of the dais and allowed herself to slouch for once, leaning against the side of Juno’s oversized marble throne as she looked up at the massive statue and told the news. They understood each other very well, Juno and Plotina.

“Little Sabina will be a daughter to me,” Plotina told her sister queen. “I sent her a pearl necklace as soon as I heard the news, to welcome her to the family. I will take her in hand myself, train her for Publius. She will know how to mix his wine as he likes it, what dishes are his favorites, how he prefers his slaves disciplined and his house arranged. She seems most eager to take my advice…”