‘I am sure many of our customs are different from yours,’ Aristocles said smoothly. ‘If you wish, I can recall the servants, if that would make you more comfortable.’

‘Bah,’ Kargan grunted. ‘Your house, your rules.’ There was a pause. ‘Tell me, is this the palace you provide for your king?’

Chloe added water to the flour mixture and proceeded to make flat cakes. After using up all the mixture, she went to the fire and checked the coals were low enough, and that there was space in the stone bed for all the cakes to fit.

‘This is not a palace. It is my villa,’ Aristocles said.

‘I must agree with you,’ Kargan said. ‘This is no palace.’

Chloe heard gulping and then a clunk as someone set a goblet back down onto the table. ‘More wine!’ Kargan called. ‘Oh,’ he said, ‘I forget you have no servants.’

‘Put these on the hot surface near the coals,’ Chloe quickly instructed her sister, indicating the meal cakes. ‘Then bring in the cold platter.’

Chloe left the kitchen and entered the expansive reception. The room was artfully arranged, with no evidence of the recent disturbance to Aristocles’ home. Marble statues of Aristonias and Nestor, two of Phalesia’s democratic fathers, occupied each corner, while along the stone wall were fine ceramics and low stools and tables.

The three men sat on angular recliners, spaced close together, and between them was a table the height of a man’s knee. The room was big enough to accommodate twenty men, yet Kargan’s dark eyes were scanning it dismissively.

As Chloe walked in she saw that he wore a flowing yellow robe of thick silk, fastened at the waist with an elaborate belt of woven orange thread covering leather. Hanging from his belt was a curved dagger with a jeweled hilt, the scabbard plain but fine quality. His oiled hair was tidier than before and his beard was now curled in a series of locks.

‘Ah.’ Aristocles cleared his throat. ‘Lord Kargan, may I introduce my eldest daughter, Chloe.’

Chloe placed her hands together and gave a small bow, while Kargan glanced at her once and then looked away. ‘More wine, Lord?’ Chloe asked as she reached for the jug and refilled Kargan’s cup, then pouring for her father and Consul Nilus.

As Chloe backed away, Sophia entered the room with the platter.

‘And my youngest daughter, Sophia,’ Aristocles said.

‘It is my pleasure to serve you, Lord,’ little Sophia said formally.

Nilus and Aristocles both smiled, but Kargan appeared bored.

‘Come,’ Chloe said to her sister under her breath. She led Sophia back into the kitchen, where the aroma of the spiced bread already filled the room.

After the girls’ departure, Chloe heard the jangle of coin and then heard something thunk onto the wooden table.

‘How much silver do you want for the use of your harbor?’ Kargan said. ‘We can buy our own materials and supplies at the agora.’