“When you marry a slave in the same household, you always know it’s possible you might be separated, but you just hope it won’t happen. I don’t even know why the family decided to sell her. When I found out, we were both distraught, and I promised to go to Terentius; I promised her I could persuade him.” He stops, and Amara feels as if she cannot breathe, understanding how desperate Philos and Restituta must have been. “I begged him. I cried. I got on my knees. And when he refused me . . .” Philos trails off. “I don’t even remember what happened. I know I broke things, screamed and raged. Whatever I did meant a flogging wasn’t sufficient punishment. But the branding wasn’t the worst part. They never let me say goodbye. I never saw her again.” Amara grips his hand, unable to find any words of comfort. Whatever she had imagined lying behind the mark, it had not been this much pain. “We managed to exchange a few messages after she left. Through the slave network, which is slow, relying on porters and good memories. Then two years ago, I learned she had died in childbirth.” He breaks off, turning his face away. “I hope she was carrying the child of a man who loved her.”

“I’m so sorry, Philos,” Amara says, taking him in her arms. They hold one another for a long time, not speaking.

“I’m not such a kind person as you think,” he says, at last, his voice still unsteady. “When Rufus told me I was to run a household for his concubine, the girl I had been escorting from the brothel, I wanted to seduce you to spite him. But then, when you came here, I fell in love with you.”

“I’ve done worse than contemplate seducing someone out of revenge,” Amara says, touched Philos would feel guilt for an act he didn’t even commit. “Believe me.”

She lies back on the bed, pulling him down beside her, so that they can hold one another more easily. They rest their foreheads together, and she can feel the palm of his hand on the back of her neck.

“I’m very sorry I didn’t tell you about Restituta before. But now that I have, do you think you might be able to tell me about Felix?”

“I did tell you.”

“I didn’t mean about today.”

It hurts to think of Felix, and Amara knows it will hurt even more if Philos starts probing at the parts of herself which bring her so much shame. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You told me once you didn’t love him, but I’ve always felt that wasn’t true.” Philos keeps hold of her as she tries to pull away. “Please, my love, I’m not jealous. I just want to understand.”