“Congratulations,” I said. “From gladiator to assassin. I hope it’s worth giving up our son.”

“He’ll survive.” Gripping my hand. “Thea. Trust me.”

Thirty-two

LEPIDA

WHAT do you mean, he won’t see me?” I stared down my nose at the Imperial chamberlain, but he stared right back.

“The Emperor is engaged at the moment, Domina.”

“But he’ll see me.” I arched subtly inside my jade silk drapes, a reminder of exactly what I was to the Lord and God of Rome.

“He commands you to wait with the others, Domina.”

Fuming, I waited. Outside his door in the marble hall like a loitering slave with all the rest of the petitioners and servants and courtiers who hovered in hopes of any brief moment of Imperial favor. Suffering the curiosity, the glances, the whispers of those who both fawned on me and prayed for my downfall.

At last the doors swung wide—but it was not my Imperial lover who sallied forth. It was a girl with golden hair and a simper; a Lady Aurelia Rufina, senator’s wife and much-gossiped-about beauty. A seventeen-year-old girl fanning herself prettily as she slouched out of Domitian’s private chambers. A seventeen-year-old girl who bestowed on me, as she strolled past, an unmistakable smirk.

Stretching my lips into a smile, I boldly struck open the door of the Imperial tablinum before the steward could object.

“Lepida Pollia.” Domitian barely glanced up, scribbling away at a postscript for a letter while one secretary hovered at his elbow with a slate, another brought a pile of fresh pens, two couriers hurried in with more scrolls and out with freshly sealed Imperial screeds, and a centurion shifted from foot to foot waiting to make a report. “I thought I might see you.”

“How could I possibly stay away from you any longer, Lord and God?” I held my smile with an effort. No doubt he was testing my loyalty, seeing if I’d fuss over a little indiscretion. “Why don’t you send the secretaries away? Don’t you think you’ve worked enough for now?”

“I’m busy.” He sealed a packet of letters and tossed it over to a slave.

I trailed my fingers over Domitian’s arm. “Then I’ll see you at the games tomorrow morning?” I was to sit in the Imperial box for the Ludi Saeculares, the biggest games of the year. I had a new flame-colored stola, specially made to set off the collar of fire opals Domitian had given me last month—

“I shan’t need you during the games tomorrow.” He flicked his fingers, and I found an unctuous freedman at my elbow, murmuring me out the door. A few petitioners flew to my side at once, bowing and gushing; a few courtiers with honey tongues and envying eyes—but even more were clustered around that simpering blond child, Aurelia Rufina.

“Too bad, Lady Lepida.” The loathsome voice of Thea’s brat piped up at my elbow. “The Emperor get tired of you already? Toldja you had lousy luck.”

“Shut up,” I hissed. “Shut up; you’ll be dead anyway; killed in the arena just like your father, so what do you know about luck?” I slapped the grinning face as hard as I could.