The walk across town is exhausting in the heat. Amara’s house is at the opposite end of Pompeii from the harbor, and by the time they reach its golden door, she is sweating heavily. Even Drusilla looks a little flustered. They step into the cool darkness of the atrium. Amara blinks, adjusting to the dimmer light, and Victoria rushes through from the garden to meet them, embracing her.

“You found some!” she exclaims, looking curiously at Phoebe and Lais.

“Yes, there they are.”

“Lovely!” Victoria says, smiling at the two newcomers. Amara is conscious of Drusilla watching and feels awkward. Victoria was not invited to the market, her status sitting somewhere uncomfortably between slave and freedwoman. Her lack of a patron, and the huge debt owing to Felix on her behalf, means she will have to go out and earn her keep with the flautists. It’s unlikely the men using the three women will care much about the legal distinction between them.

Phoebe and Lais are huddled together by the pool, looking nervous now the shock of the sale is over. “You must be hungry,” Amara says to them both.

They glance at one another, uncertain. Phoebe licks her lips. “Please, no trouble,” she says in her heavily accented Latin. “Just water.”

“Nonsense!” Victoria says warmly. “You must be starving. Come with me. Martha will get you something. Some bread maybe? And some cheese?”

Victoria leads the two flautists to the garden, smoothing over their fear with a flow of friendly chatter. Amara watches them go, touched by her friend’s kindness.

“Good,” Drusilla says, when the three women are out of earshot. “They will need to work together.”

“Will you stay and have something?” Amara asks her.

Drusilla shakes her head. “I need to get home,” she says. “I promised Primus I would spend the afternoon with him.” She reaches for Amara, kissing her lightly on the cheek. “Let me know what it costs to feed and clothe them. Then we can set it against the lump sum of the sale. Make sure the balance between us is fair.”

Amara nods. “Of course,” she says. “Kiss your little boy for me.”

Drusilla walks back across the atrium, joining Josephus who is waiting silently in the doorway beside Juventus. When she is gone, Amara is left with Britannica. “You must be hungry too,” she says, embarrassed not to have thought of this before.

Britannica shrugs. “If you not need me now.”

“Go and eat,” Amara replies. “I will join you all in the garden in a moment, after I have spoken to Juventus.”