Vix scuffed a hard bare foot along the mosaics. “Sorry.”

“For what?” Poking him again.

“Dunno.”

“The pipes!”

“I said I was sorry.”

“And the fight with the choirboy?” I prompted.

“Weepy whiny pussy,” he said scornfully. “I’m not sorry for that.”

“Vercingetorix—” I hissed.

“I see,” said Larcius. “Go away, you horrid child, and try not to break anything for the rest of the day.”

My son scuffed out scowling. “I’m sorry, Dominus,” I sighed. “I promise I’ll beat him.”

“I’ve never seen it do a bit of good, but feel free. He’s reducing your inheritance, you know.”

“My—inheritance?”

A smile broke through Larcius’s frown, and he waved me to a stool before the couch. “That was the other reason I wanted to see you, child. I’ve changed my will to include you.”

“You have?”

“You’ll come into some money when I die. Your money—did you really think I would keep all your earnings? I’ve invested them for you. Except the amounts I’ve deducted for young Vix’s breakages. He’ll be freed along with you,” Larcius added a little dubiously, “when I’m dead. And I’m glad I won’t be around to see the havoc he’ll unleash on the civilized world.” He smiled as I flung myself forward and pressed my cheek against his plump hand.

“Thank you! Thank you, thank you—you’re the kindest master, Dominus—”

“Yes, yes. Go beat that dreadful child of yours, and then practice your scales. I still want to hear a smoother line on the last verse of ‘Silver Sea.’ ”

“Yes. Yes, I’ll practice.” I bowed and all but danced out of the atrium. Free after he died! Larcius would live a long time, please God—but someday, by the time Vix was grown, we’d both be free. With a little money to start a life of our own. I could work for myself for a change—sing the music that I wanted, turn down the clients I didn’t like, stay home if I didn’t feel like performing . . .

The house was a cheerful racket of people: Larcius’s slaves, his famed choirboys, his flute players, his lyre players, all herded into some kind of order by Penelope, the plain freedwoman who loved him like a wife. She seized my arm as I floated past, her curls vibrating with exasperation. “Thea, Vix was caught in the courtyard playing dice with beggars again—”

Vix yowled as I took him by the ear and dragged him back to my cozy little room on the first floor. “OW! I wasn’t doing nothing! He was an old legionnaire, and he said if I won a round of dice he’d show me his sword! You know that kind of sword’s called a gladius? Can I—”

“No, you cannot have a gladius!” I smacked him, and he bounded ahead of me down the hall, stabbing and feinting at each statue as he passed it. I reeled him in again. “And that was a dreadful apology to Larcius, Vix. He’d be within his rights to sell you.”