The house Pliny takes her to is near the Forum, only a short walk from the brothel, but stepping over its threshold is like entering another world. A delicate fountain of a faun greets them as they enter the atrium, starlight reflected on its waters. The air is heavy with the smell of jasmine.

“My friends were kind enough to let me have the run of the house while they are in Rome,” Pliny says, taking a lamp from a slave and leading her across the darkened hall. “It’s this way.” They climb the stairs, walking along an interior balcony, until he pushes open a door. The smell of jasmine is particularly intense here, and she can hear the splash of another fountain. Amara guesses the room must overlook the garden.

“Here we are.” He gestures for her to enter. She had expected him to be attended by slaves so is a little nervous to step into the room alone. The walls are painted with maritime scenes, tiny boats in picturesque battles, plumes of smoke rising from the defeated enemy fleet. She wonders if Pliny visits regularly, if this room was painted specially for him. Traveling cases overflowing with scrolls and wax tablets trail across the floor. Another pile sits on the large bed. Pliny lifts them off carefully.

“If you could get undressed,” he says, turning to fuss over his tablets while she does so.

There’s no point doing a seductive striptease if he’s not even watching. She removes the cloak, carefully folds up the silk dress and undoes her hair. Then she arranges it artfully over one shoulder and perches at the end of the bed.

Pliny is a while flipping through his notes but eventually turns back to her, a wax booklet and stylus in hand. They look at each other. “Could I get a better view?” he says.

Amara is nonplussed. Is her pose not sexy enough? What is it he wants to see? She arches her back, pouting.

“No, no,” he says. “Not that. Just lie down or something, so I can take a better look. See more of you.”

She lies back on the bed, feeling more nervous by the minute. Pliny looks her over, scratching away at his tablets. He is taking notes, she realizes. The thought is so funny, she has to cough to hide the laugh that rises up her throat.