“I’ll give your little Thurinus a belting myself if I see him anywhere near the shop. See if I don’t.”

Atia flushed with anger and took a step forward, giving them the excuse they wanted to run off, calling back insults as they scattered.

Alexandria stood by the pair, wondering if she should just walk away. The scene she had witnessed was none of her business, but she was curious to see what would happen now the mother was alone with her rascal of a son.

The little boy sniveled and rubbed his nose gingerly. “I’m sorry, Mam. I just thought you would be pleased. I didn’t think they would follow me all the way back here.”

“You never think. If your father was alive, he’d be ashamed of you, boy. He would tell you we never steal and we never lie. Then he would warm your backside properly with his strap, which I should do myself.”

The boy struggled to get away, kicking out at her as he found his arm held firmly.

“He was a money changer. You say they’re all thieves, so he must have been too.”

“Don’t you dare say that!” Atia said through whitened lips. Without waiting for a response, she upended the boy on her knee and smacked him hard, six times. He struggled through the first three and lay silently still for the last. When she put him down, he skittered around the two women, pelting down the narrow street and disappearing around the nearest corner.

Atia sighed as she watched him run. Alexandria clasped her hands together nervously, embarrassed to have witnessed such a private moment. Atia seemed to remember her suddenly and flushed as she met her eye.

“I’m sorry. He is always stealing and I can’t seem to make him understand not to do it. He’s always caught, but the next week he tries again.”

“Is his name Thurinus?” Alexandria asked.

The woman shook her head. “No. They call him that because the family moved to the city from Thurin. It’s an insulting nickname they have for him, but he seems to like it. His given name is Octavian, after his father. Little terror. Only nine years old, but more at home on the streets than in his own house. I do worry about him.” She glanced at Alexandria, taking in the clothes and brooch properly.

“I shouldn’t be bothering you with our troubles, miss. I don’t mind admitting we could use the rent for the room. He wouldn’t steal from you, and if he did I’d give it straight back, on my family’s honor. You wouldn’t know it, but there’s good blood in his veins, Octavii and Caesar, if the little bugger would only realize it.”

“Caesar?” Alexandria said sharply. The woman nodded.