She tries to meet her friends at the Sparrow as before, but apart from Dido, conversation is strained. Victoria has barely spoken to her since their row over Britannica. Returning to the brothel to work, she finds the Briton’s resistance has permanently changed the atmosphere. Everyone is on edge, trying to shield her from customers, for their own sake as much as hers. The rare times anyone shares a joke, Amara no longer feels part of the banter. On the evening she and Dido are sent to entertain at Cornelius’s house, Amara is so happy to see Egnatius, with his absurd compliments and eternal good temper, she almost kisses him.

And then there is Rufus. He has not called for her quite as often as she would have hoped—no more than twice a week—but every time she sees him, she feels a little more confident in his attachment. Her own feelings are growing like bindweed, tangling her thoughts, threatening to choke her scheming. He makes such an effort to be charming, his manner is so gentle, it is hard not to care too much. But she is always aware of the imbalance in power, and fear is her affection’s shadow. She lives with the knowledge that he could tear her life apart on a whim, while she could do him no more damage than a pebble dropped in a pond.

It is her third week living above the brothel when Rufus’s slave Philos calls round on the Thursday morning, warning her to be ready for his master in the evening. She hears Felix take the message—and the money—then the creak of his footsteps as he approaches the storeroom. Amara scrambles to her feet, dusting off her toga.

“I take it you heard that?” Felix says, sticking his head around the door. “You can at least make yourself useful until then.”

“Of course,” she replies, following him out into the corridor and walking to his study.

This is the strangest part of her new life, all the hours she spends with her master. She takes her customary seat near the doorway, tucked in beside a small table. Felix has never asked her to share his bed again, but eventually, he relented and let her help with his accounts. It started with Terentia’s loan, when he got her to draw up the contract and write the records. Now he has her working on a number of files. She wonders how he ever managed to do it all himself.