It’s Menander she is attracted to—could imagine loving even—although their relationship has consisted of little more than a few snatched moments and graffiti exchanges outside the Sparrow. That’s how she knows where to meet him. I will wait for you by the second gate, Timarete. May fortune smile on us both! She was the one who suggested the timing underneath. Then she spent hours agonizing over whether that looked too keen or too cool. Would it have been better to have suggested before the games started? Or later, after one of the gladiator fights?

“Salvius is just a friend,” she says.

“If he’s just a friend,” Victoria says. “You wouldn’t mind if he did a swap and had Dido next time, would you?”

Amara winces. “He wouldn’t do that!”

“You don’t like the idea though, do you?”

“I think of Priscus as my friend too,” Dido says, coming to her rescue. “They’re just not like that, either of them.”

“You’ll be saying they’re better lovers than Gallus next!”

“Oh, fuck off!” Beronice rounds on Victoria. “Just because some gladiator kissed you, doesn’t mean you get to lord it over the rest of us all day like fucking Venus!”

One or two of the more respectable women sitting on the row in front shuffle disapprovingly, though none is brave enough to risk a direct confrontation with a gang of rowing whores.

“Just leave it,” Cressa says wearily. “She’s only teasing.”

The sound of trumpets rings out, and the murmuring hive subsides slightly, though not enough for the opening speeches to be heard clearly from the back. Amara thinks again of Fuscus, imagines how much he must have enjoyed his moment of glory last year. Perhaps he has brought his sons with him today, or would they be too young? She has never met them.

Cheering and yelling from the crowd alerts them to the beast hunters’ entrance. The three men hold their arms up to the crowds, enjoying the glory before facing the danger.

“Will that be Celadus?” Amara asks, unable to tell one fighter from another at this distance.

“He wouldn’t do a beast hunt!” Victoria is outraged. “He’s a combat gladiator!”

There’s more screaming, a mixture of fear and excitement, as the animals are released into the ring. The women jump to their feet to get a better view.

“What are they?” Cressa asks, standing on tiptoe. “I can’t see.”

“Tigers!” Dido says. “They’ve let loose tigers!”