His detached tone caught me off-guard. And his expression—as if he were studying an interesting legal concept instead of his own wife. I tossed my head. “Well, you’ll have to put up with me, Marcus. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

“You thought you’d open my eyes, Lepida? They’re opened. And I don’t particularly like what I see—can that possibly surprise you?—so I intend to divorce you. Do you understand Roman divorce, my dear? All I have to do is speak the words and have you gone from my house. But you needn’t worry,” he added. “I’ll let you keep your dowry. You gave a fine performance. Worth a few thousand sesterces, even if you did your best to corrupt my son.”

His eyes were cold and hooded, his voice a slow patrician drumroll. How dare he look at me as if he were an Emperor and I were an insect?

I let the smile drop. “No, Marcus. No divorce. You’ll go back to Rome, and you’ll take me with you, and you’ll pay all my bills, and you won’t ask questions when I come in at dawn smelling like the Emperor. That’s what you’ll do. Or I’ll ruin you.”

“Try,” he said calmly. “You’ll ruin yourself.”

“Do you understand the courts, my dear?” I leaned forward, nailing his eyes with mine. “Courts are made up of men. Susceptible, sympathetic men. I know men, Marcus. I fooled you, didn’t I? And Paulinus, the upright honorable soldier. The men in those courts are no different from any others. I can make them believe me.”

“Believe what?” He dissected me with his eyes. “An unfaithful wife? How many of those do you think they see every week?”

“But do they see this every week?” Straightening, I covered my face with my hands and let my shoulders heave. “ ‘Paulinus made me—I never wanted to, never; he’s my stepson! But he forced me, and when I went to Marcus afterward he just laughed—he said it was part of a wife’s duty! I knew it wasn’t natural, not the—the things Paulinus made me do—but I was so frightened—’ ”

“Seen enough?” I lifted my head. “Why, Marcus. You’re looking at me as if I had snakes for hair.”

“I wish you did.” The words came with a kind of wonder. “I’d have had better luck with Medusa.”

“If you divorce me, I’ll have Paulinus charged with rape. The courts will believe me, Marcus. They’ll believe me when I tell them Paulinus raped me and you agreed to it. They’ll believe me when I say that I turned to other men because I was mistreated. They’ll believe me when I say that Sabina isn’t your child at all, but Paulinus’s. When I’m done, you’ll just be a dirty old man who couldn’t wait to get his hands on a fi fteen-year-old girl and her money. Paulinus will just be a rapist who the Praetorians can’t wait to be rid of, and Sabina will be an incest-born bastard.” I leaned back, smiling. “As for me, I’ll be divorced and free and rich, and my father will breathe fire at you for daring to hurt his little girl, and I’ll be married again in no time. Because I’ll be sure to get all of your money as well as mine, darling. I think the Emperor will allow that—he’s never been fond of you, after all. So you see, it really is to your advantage to keep on my good side.”