Amara’s body obeys the old habit of jumping to Felix’s orders. She takes the rest of the money from Philos and hurries into the corridor. She realizes too late she has not removed her own purse, that she will have to fish it out from between her breasts in front of Felix. Then she is stepping over the familiar threshold into the red study next door. Paris bangs the door shut behind her.

Felix and Amara stare at one another. It is the first time they have been alone since she won her freedom. He is sitting at his desk, the way she has imagined him a thousand times, and she is standing in her old place by the door. Amara’s every nerve is taut, her whole being alive with readiness to fight. She expects Felix to sneer, to threaten, maybe even to grab her. Instead, he waves a hand toward a chair as if she were an old friend. “Have some wine with me,” he says, pleasantly. “Zoskales claims it’s his best, which means it might almost be drinkable.”

“You don’t drink,” Amara says, surprised into rudeness as she sits down. “So why would I want to blunt my wits while you keep yours?”

“Fine,” Felix says, with a smirk. “I suppose you know best. You’ve eavesdropped on me often enough.” He nods toward the place she used to sit doing his books.

“None of the new whores any good with accounts then?” she asks, glancing around and noticing the table is no longer stacked with tablets.

“No,” he smiles. “You’re irreplaceable.”

“Are you trying to be charming?” Amara is amused in spite of herself. “Surely, you can’t think I’m that easily fooled. I’ve had to sit here while you told me you had Drauca’s eye cut out. I think it might be a little late for charm.” She can see his smooth expression start to wrinkle, a curl of irritation forming at the edge of his mouth. Felix always did hate to be laughed at. “That’s better,” she says. “Why not get angry and call me a bitch? Then I’ll start to feel at home.”

“You are at home,” Felix replies. “My favorite whore.” Amara can see him absorb her discomfort, the smile on his face genuine this time. It has been so long since she was in his presence, she had forgotten how attractive he is. Victoria always used to say he looked like Apollo, with his sculpted physique, all hard edges and sharp lines. But thanks to Fabia, Amara knows Felix is all too mortal. He was the most beautiful child. Those big brown eyes.

“I don’t believe a place can truly be your home,” she says. “Unless you grew up there.” From the way his smile tightens, Amara suspects her blow has landed.