“Sure.”

Silence.

“You know your mother is probably dead? I had my Praetorians dump her outside the city. If she hasn’t been robbed or murdered by now, then she’s no doubt sleeping in a ditch somewhere. Easy enough to find, if I so decide.”

Vix looked at him.

“I could pick her up tomorrow, if I liked. Bring her back. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Vix leaned forward so suddenly that Paulinus’s hand leaped to his dagger. “Leave her alone,” the boy said to the Emperor.

“Why should I?” Avuncular.

“Let’s make a deal. Leave her alone, keep me.”

“Arrogant boy. Leave you alive to plant more knives in my back?”

“It’ll sure make things interesting.”

You crazy boy, Paulinus thought in distant, terrified admiration. Maybe you’re not as stupid as I thought.

Domitian tilted his head at Thea’s son, considering. “Are you afraid of me?”

Vix looked at him as if he were a moron. “One word from you and the pretty boy over there turns me into a twitching pile of blood and guts on the floor. Of course I’m afraid. I’m shitting myself.”

Domitian looked at him.

“You’re too proud to strike a bargain with a slave?” Vix taunted. Sweat beaded all along his forehead. “You balding freak?”

A long, barbed pause. Paulinus winced. No one teased the Emperor about his thinning hair. The last man who had . . .

“Why, no,” the Emperor of Rome said, meditative. “I don’t believe I’m too proud to strike a bargain with a slave, Vercingetorix.”

Vix stuck his hand out. Incredibly, the Emperor took it. Palm against palm, flesh against flesh. Bones bending, knuckles whitening. Seeing who would flinch.

They looked into each other’s eyes. Neither flinched.

“Well.” Domitian smiled, genial. “I suspect I shall enjoy this. Your mother was a great challenge, but I think you’re going to be an even greater one, Vercingetorix—or is it Vix?”

“Only Mother calls me Vix.”

“I could very easily have been your father, you know. Were you a few years younger, I would wonder . . . but no.”

“There’s a God after all,” Vix muttered, and finally Paulinus could drag him out.

“Are you crazy?” he hissed under his breath. “Talking to the Emperor like that—even worse than trying to stab him in the first place!”

“Mother said he plays games with people,” Vix said. “I thought it might work.”

He twitched away from Paulinus, fidgeting with his tunic, and Paulinus saw a wet patch on the white linen. The boy had pissed himself.

“You laughing at me?” Vix said fiercely. “You laugh at me, I’ll beat your face in! Pretty boy palace soldier, you think you’re tough—” His hands shook as he shoved Paulinus’s chest.

“No,” sighed Paulinus. “I’m not laughing at you.” He led Vix back to his quarters.

THE Imperial court buzzed after that. Paulinus heard the whispers.

“I hear the boy has his own room right next to the Imperial suite—”

“The Emperor took him to the Senate hearings yesterday—”