Everyone laughs, and the men bid each other goodnight, retiring with the women as their spoils for the night. Drusilla’s house is nothing like as grand or large as her clients’ homes, but it is elegant and comfortable. Every room Amara has seen is painted with scenes of mythical lovers, the one she usually stays in has a painting of Leda and the Swan. It is up the stairs, above the small courtyard and dining room.

She and Rufus follow Drusilla’s maid to the bedroom. He starts undressing her before the girl has even finished lighting all the lamps. It is something she has noticed about Rufus, the way he doesn’t seem to see many of the slaves who serve him. At his own house, Vitalio would come in unannounced to set out wine or fruit, even when they were in bed together, until Amara asked that he stop.

“He doesn’t think anything of it!” Rufus had protested, but Amara was not so sure. It was the way Vitalio had looked at her once, one slave to another, while Rufus waxed on about a play. She knew then that he disliked her, that serving her made him angry, even though she still doesn’t understand why.

Tonight, she is relieved that they have not progressed beyond nakedness before the maid leaves. It is an effort now, always remembering to perform with Rufus. His affection for her seems so genuine; she wonders what would happen if she tried to pursue her own pleasure, or suggest what she might like. But it is easier just to please him and fake it. She knows her inability to enjoy Salvius’s efforts was what cooled his interest in the end, for all he asked her not to pretend.

It is afterward that she enjoys most, hearing Rufus tell her he loves her, holding her as if he will never let her go. She doesn’t really believe him; she knows he cannot love her, not truly, not the way she loved her family or loves Dido, as someone you consider of equal value to yourself. Still, she never tires of hearing him say the words.

After Rufus has kissed her goodbye and crept from the room, she hears him in the courtyard below, laughing with the other two men. He rarely stays the whole night at Drusilla’s, but Amara has no intention of ever telling Felix this. It is one of the perks, staying over like a guest, not a slave, in the house of a friend. She smiles to herself, imagining Dido safe nearby, stretching out on the sheets, just as she is, a night of blissful, undisturbed sleep ahead.