I called her a girl because of her status; she was about my own age really, and said her mistress was the same. She had served Mucia Lucilia for ten years, helping her wash, dress, arrange her hair, put on jewellery. It was an intimate relationship. She tweezed Mucia’s eyebrows, cut her nails, made arrangements for sanitary cloths during her monthly periods. She had learned her moods, her hopes of making a good marriage, her annoyance that the trip to Campania had had to be delayed.

‘Yes, tell me: what caused this delay?’

‘We were not told.’ She paused slightly, and I wondered.

That night she must have been the last person other than Aviola to see Mucia alive. She had helped her mistress undress. She locked up the jewellery in its casket. Then, as I had been told by Olympe, the maid retired to one of the good bedrooms on the far side of the courtyard, in company with the young musician. They had the door closed, which Olympe had not explained, though Amaranta admitted it was to deter male slaves from wandering in.

‘Do you get much trouble?’

‘Nothing I can’t handle.’ I believed that.

I asked about her hopes for the future; did she want to marry and have a family?

Amaranta was non-committal about who she might share her life with, but readily said that she was on good terms with Mucia Lucilia, who had promised to free her as soon as she reached her thirtieth birthday. That was close enough for her to look forward to it patiently, but Amaranta was now frightened that Mucia’s death meant she would be sent to a slave market instead. Assuming she escaped the murder charge.

‘You don’t know what was in her will?’

‘No. What are our chances, Flavia Albia?’

‘Slim,’ I said honestly. ‘A judge is likely to say all of you should have rushed to help your master and mistress. I shall conduct experiments, but any prosecutor will claim you should have heard their cries.’

Amaranta had been giving this thought. ‘What if they never called for help? – I don’t believe they did.’

‘We would need to explain why not – though, without being indelicate, it could be they were so involved with each other they were slow to realise intruders had come into their room. Do you know – were they passionate?’

‘They liked it,’ replied Amaranta matter-of-factly. I waited. ‘Quite a lot, from what she told me. After the wedding, she was a happy woman next morning, looking forward to more.’

‘Had they been to bed together before?’

‘A few squeezes and fumbles. Not the full thing. So it was only their second bout of proper play. And they would not have been expecting anyone to interrupt. We were all told to keep away.’

‘I imagine they had the bedroom doors closed too – or didn’t they care who heard them?’