Julia, noticing his interest in Amara, draws her into the conversation. “This is dear little Amara’s first time visiting Misenum. She takes her role as the admiral’s freedwoman very seriously. I’m afraid she’s likely to scold us all if he’s treated with anything but the utmost reverence.”

Amara is irritated by the teasing, but Demetrius only smiles. “A freedwoman’s loyalty to her patron is entirely proper,” he replies. “For what service did he free you, girl?” His dark eyes are not unfriendly, but it is still uncomfortable to be the subject of his scrutiny.

“You would need to ask the admiral to know the reasons for his exceptional kindness,” Amara replies, thinking carefully about how to disclose her status as another man’s concubine. “But I believe it was for the service I gave him in his research, and as an act of generosity toward a young man, the nephew of Julius Placidus, who wished to become my patron.”

“It was indeed extremely generous to bestow such a gift on another,” Demetrius replies. “But then the admiral is a remarkable man.”

“I owe him everything,” Amara says, not looking down demurely in response to his compliment as modesty required, but meeting his gaze directly. They smile at one another before Demetrius turns back to Julia to talk about her father.

The late afternoon passes in a luxurious haze. There is no need to move from the garden—a constant stream of refreshment is brought to them by Pliny’s slaves. Amara cannot help but think of her offer to Pliny to serve out the rest of her life as one of their number, never imagining she might come here as a guest instead. Conscious of her low status compared to the others, she is largely silent, listening to Demetrius speak about his work at the Imperial court, grateful to Julia for her friendliness and the effortless way she keeps including her as one of the party.

By the time the admiral joins his guests, dusk is falling, and they have already moved to the outdoor dining room. The back wall is carved to resemble a rock face, and water tumbles down it into a pool, a mosaic of marine life rippling under its surface. Lamps are scattered over the table and set in niches on the walls. Amara realizes the pattern of lights mirrors several of the constellations her father once taught her.

Pliny greets the arrival of a young boy, his nephew, with much affection. The child must be about twelve, and the admiral pays him a great deal of attention, asking him to recount what he has learned that day, and persuading Alexios to test the boy on his Greek. It reminds her of Pliny’s eagerness to press scrolls upon her when she stayed with him, the questions he would ask to see if she had read them all. He is a man who clearly loves to impart learning.