“More than that, I hope.” Felix rises from his seat, and the two women step backward. Thraso stays still. Felix clicks his fingers at Victoria. She hurries over. He runs his hands over her, feeling her body, rearranging her clothes, a critical look on his face. It’s not a man touching a woman, but a salesman checking his goods. He slaps her backside, hard. “Will you make me as much money as Simo’s whores? Hmmm? Will you?” He gestures toward Amara without looking at her. “That one thinks so, but I’m not convinced.” He takes Victoria’s chin between his fingers. “What were you doing at the pool today? Gawping round the place like peasants at the games? Slouching about on your flat arses?”

Victoria can’t shake her head; Felix is holding her too tightly.

“I’ve seen Drauca. That whore has the finest ass in Pompeii. And what do you have? What sort of tits are these?” He lets go of Victoria, pushing her face away. She sways but stays upright. “Simo may have paid Vibo off, but would Vibo have thrown you out if he thought any of you could fuck like Drauca?” He pauses, daring them to answer but neither do. “Our friend Simo’s been bragging he sells the best cunt. So you”—Felix jabs a finger at both his women—“need to show Vibo he’s talking shit. Vibo gets to fuck you whenever he likes, however he likes, no charge, all part of the service. If you’re not his favorite girls after that, I’ll know why.” Amara glances at Victoria, trying to judge her reaction, but her face is blank as wax. “Get moving!” Felix shouts, making them both jump. “I want five denarii each from you lazy, fucking whores. Tell the others they’d better put some effort in.”

Amara almost stumbles over Paris in the doorway in her haste to get out of the room, but Victoria is still quicker. They scuttle along the balcony, shoving their way down the stairs. Victoria reaches the bottom first. She turns round, blocking the door so Amara can’t get back into the street. Amara steadies herself against the wall, jolted as much by Victoria’s obvious anger as the sudden stop. “Why did you do that?” Victoria whispers. “Felix would have dropped Vibo. Why ask him to send us back? What sort of idiot are you?”

“Think of the money,” she whispers back. The pair of them are rammed together at the bottom of the smelly, dark stairwell. “Think of all the rich men! Not like the dregs who come here.”

“You’re crazy. What do you think they’re going to do? Turn up at the baths with bags of gold? They go there to screw, not find a bride!” Victoria’s whisper grows louder with exasperation. “And now we have to put up with Vibo!”