Amara had agreed with Rufus to leave the games early, but it is impossible to persuade Victoria or Britannica to accompany her. Instead, she leaves them with Beronice and makes her way to the exit at the agreed time, knowing Philos will be waiting for her at the bottom of the arena steps. Rufus still uses his steward as a trusted go-between, just as he did when she lived at the brothel.

When Amara catches sight of Philos, it is clear he had already spotted her. From the top of the arena steps, he is a slight figure far below, but his presence, even at this distance, has an immediate impact. Every reservation she has felt about their affair vanishes. They smile at one another, an open expression of affection neither would permit themselves at the house, but here, the significance is lost in the anonymity of the crowd.

The closer she gets, the more reserved Amara is obliged to become. Standing beside Philos, she wants to take his arm, but instead stands slightly apart.

“Were the games good?” he asks.

“Not really,” she says as they set off, walking through the bustle of the marketplace. “But we saw Beronice. Gallus has married her.”

“He’s married her?” Philos is as astonished as Amara was at hearing the news. “While Felix still owns her?”

“No, Felix sold her to him.”

Philos is silent, and she suspects that he is thinking, just as she did earlier, that Beronice has managed to achieve something that they cannot. “I’m very pleased for her,” is all he says. “I hope Gallus will treat her kindly.”

“He won’t. Or not as kindly as she deserves. But he is a much better man than Felix.” The crowds are starting to thin, and soon they will be back on the pavement, where there is even less privacy. “When Beronice talked about love,” she says impulsively, “I wanted to tell her.”

“But you didn’t?” His tone is sharp.

“Of course not!” She is hurt he would think her so careless. “I only told her I was lucky to have such a generous patron.”

“Of course. I’m sorry.” It’s unclear to Amara whether Philos is apologizing for his momentary distrust or their unsatisfactory situation. They have reached the walled vineyard at the end of the marketplace and turn left toward the street. The games are always a good time for prostitutes to pick up business, and Amara is sure many of the women currently embracing lovers against the wall are drawn there by money rather than lust. One man leers at her when she passes, mistaking her interest in the scene. She moves a little closer to Philos, wishing he could make some gesture to claim her. The ownership of one man is always helpful in deterring the attention of another.