Philos has finished the planting and is scraping all the spilled earth back into the beds. The noise of iron on stone grates across Amara’s nerves, making her shudder. He stands up. “Do you need anything else?”

“No, thank you,” Victoria replies, even though his question was not for her. Philos bows his head, a more formal gesture than he has used to either of them before, and leaves.

“Why were you so rude?” Amara hisses, as soon as he is out of earshot.

“I don’t trust him,” Victoria replies. “The man creeps about like a cat—I never even know when he’s there! And the way he looks at everything! As if he’s better than everyone, even though he’s just a fucking slave.”

“That’s unfair!” Amara exclaims, surprised that Victoria has noticed so much about Philos, yet somehow managed to mistake his self-containment for arrogance.

“I’m sorry,” Victoria says, not sounding sorry at all. “But I can’t forget the way he spoke to you when you first brought me here. Bragging that you weren’t the mistress of the house! To your face! As if he were the one in charge. I still don’t know why you put up with it.”

Amara is about to defend Philos, to explain that he was trying to protect her, not insult her. But she stops, realizing she may end up betraying feelings she cannot even admit to herself. “Well,” she says, as if wavering. “Rufus chose him. It’s not my place to say anything about who he has in the house.”

Victoria links her arm through Amara’s, giving it a squeeze. “Just don’t take any shit,” she says. “Promise me.”

Amara and Victoria have bread and dried fruit together after Juventus returns from the bakery. Victoria is reluctant to talk about the night before, dismissing Amara’s anxious questions about Quintus, which makes her suspect the evening was far from pleasant. Instead, they discuss the performance Victoria has planned with Phoebe and Lais for the Floralia. Amara knows she needs to buy Victoria and the two flautists better outfits to perform at Cornelius’s house, but is also aware that if she trails round the shops with all three of them, it will unavoidably look like what she is, a pimp. Instead, Amara suggests to Victoria that they go alone, after she has received the client she is expecting that morning. Victoria’s delight at the idea assuages some of Amara’s guilt at what happened the night before.