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Back The House with the Golden Door Save as PDF
Chapters (60)
  1. Cover
  2. PRAISE FOR
  3. PRAISE FOR
  4. Dedication
  5. 75 CE
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. FLORALIA
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. LEMURIA
  27. 20
  28. 21
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. NEMORALIA
  38. 30
  39. 31
  40. 32
  41. 33
  42. 34
  43. 35
  44. 36
  45. 37
  46. 38
  47. 39
  48. 40
  49. 76 CE
  50. 41
  51. 42
  52. 43
  53. 44
  54. 45
  55. 46
  56. 47
  57. 48
  58. EPILOGUE
  59. AFTERWORD
  60. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

He nods. “I am, thank you. But I have to go now, Amara.” His use of her slave name, rather than her real name, Timarete, the one he always used to call her by, hurts more than anything else he could have said. “I’m sorry. I wish you well.” He turns his back and hurries away, not even waiting to hear her goodbye.

Victoria, who had kept a tactful distance, hurries over and takes Amara’s arm. “Don’t cry,” she says quietly, moving her out of the flow of people. “Not here.” They make their way back to the bench, and Victoria holds Amara while she sobs. “It’s alright,” she soothes. “It’s alright.”

“I’m sorry.” Amara wipes her face, embarrassed when the rush of grief has passed.

“It’s alright,” Victoria says again. “I know you cared about him.”

“I don’t now,” Amara says. “Or not like that. I just never wanted to hurt him.”

“I always thought he was a bit of a selfish prick, not taking the lamp back straightaway when he saw Rufus.” Victoria fusses over Amara’s hair, trying to make her look less rumpled after her cry. “I’m sorry—he might have made you a nice lamp and everything, but it wasn’t worth losing a fucking patron over.” Amara starts to laugh, Victoria’s caustic attitude making her feel better in a way sympathy never could. “And besides.” Victoria sniffs. “He’s a slave. You can do better than that now.”

“I don’t think being enslaved makes him less attractive,” Amara says, unable to stop herself from defending Philos, even though he was not the target. “What about Crescens?”

Victoria stands up, helping Amara to her feet. “Crescens is a gladiator,” she says, her expression haughty. “It’s not the same at all. And besides, Crescens is better looking.”

They both smile then walk back to the house, Victoria holding tightly to Amara’s arm.

32

“May you suffer, Phoebus!”

—Herculaneum graffiti

Amara knows, as soon as she walks into his study, that Felix has changed. The cold way he looks at her is a shock. Over the past two months, as the days slid into the heat of summer, she has slowly grown used to seeing his more amiable side, almost starting to wonder whether he might be sincere in his remorse. Or at the very least, she had begun to believe she might be able to exercise some control over his moods, to keep his violence at bay. But then, Victoria must once have been lulled into thinking this too.