“I—I never—”

“You lie poorly, Athena. Lepida Pollia said you always did.”

“You shouldn’t believe Lepida Pollia, Caesar.” I clutched for calm. “She hates me.”

“Correct. Transparently. But she was such a font of information, what could I be but grateful? So, what was the Barbarian like in person?”

I opened my mouth but nothing came out—nothing. Inside I was freezing cold.

“Not your only catch, I understand, but certainly the prize. The gladiator they called the god of war—quite a prestigious achievement for a common slave girl. How much did he pay you?”

“No, I—he never—”

“Ah, so it was love, then. How touching, the Barbarian and his Jewess. Did you writhe and giggle for him, as you won’t for me?”

“That—that hurts—”

“It hurt you more, watching him go to his death. Didn’t it? Did it hurt as much as this?”

“I—”

“I don’t suppose I have to be jealous of him anymore. But now I almost wish he were alive again. Just so I could look him in the eye and tell him that I have his woman. Twice a night, if I like. And she moans like the whore she is and wears my collar and takes my gold—”

I flung my goblet against the wall and it rebounded in a tinny clatter. “Stop it!”

“So the goddess of wisdom cracks at last? What a pretty little display. Please feel free to weep. I like tears in a woman. You’ve been a good girl this evening, Athena. Good enough to deserve a reward. Would you like one?”

“No, Caesar.” Fighting the tears back.

“No reward? Perhaps I’ll just tell you one of my secrets, then. Yes, that seems fair.” He settled back, stroking my head against his knee. “I’ve told you a good deal about my brother, haven’t I? Titus the Golden, the darling of the people, cut off so tragically in the prime of his youth . . . well, I killed him. White arsenic in his wine. I killed my brother and then took his daughter. I think Julia suspected something. It may even have driven her mad. Will it drive you mad? I doubt it. You’re too coarse-grained to go mad. The first person I’ve ever told . . . I imagine I’ll have to keep you for good, now. Can’t have you running away with a secret like that, can I?”

No. I suppose he couldn’t.

“Drink up, Athena. Drink up.” He sat back, jovial. “It’s a whole new year.”

JUSTINA looked amused. “And why do you think me so cheated?”

“Not cheated,” Paulinus amended. “I can see you’re suited here. But that’s just luck. If they took you when you were nine years old, you didn’t know that it would all be worth giving up marriage and children and—and everything else. No one knows anything when they’re nine years old.”

“I did know it was a great honor to be chosen to serve Vesta. And in some ways, it’s given me more power than you.”