“Perhaps he wants to make a grand gesture during the festival,” Dido says, taking her arm. “That would be very like him.”

Dido is so kind, wanting to reassure her, but Amara can tell she is upset. She hates herself for not being more considerate; she should have paid greater attention to Dido’s feelings over the past few days. She would be desperate if their roles were reversed. “I will do everything I can to get you out,” she says. “Everything. I promise. I love you. You are everything to me.”

“I love you too,” Dido replies. She is on the verge of tears.

Dido is the only person Amara has told about her plans, but even she doesn’t know where the new house is. Amara had worried about the risk of them being followed, but now she realizes this will leave Dido with no way of finding her, no way of leaving a message. “Do you want to know where it is? The house, I mean,” she says, her voice quiet, even though it’s unlikely anyone is listening. “Then if Rufus keeps his word, you can visit.” Dido nods.

They walk single file, Amara leading the way across town. She remembers the first time Philos brought her to the house. She has never been down the road in daylight. Even on the eve of the Saturnalia it is relatively quiet. Living here will mark a big change from the brothel’s noisy crossroads. The thought of escaping brings her a rush of excitement, and when they stand outside the tall building with its golden doorframe, she finds herself believing that life might be kind after all. She raps on the wood, not expecting anyone to answer, but Philos opens it. He is astonished to see her.

“Come in!” he exclaims, hurrying them both inside. He shuts the door behind them. “Is anything wrong? Are you alright?”

“I wanted Dido to know where to find me,” Amara says. “If Rufus really does mean for me to stay here.”

Philos gestures at the atrium behind him. Vitalio is staggering past with a table. “I think you can see that he does. Has he not said anything?”

Amara shakes her head. “I didn’t like to presume.”

“You’ve no need to worry,” Philos replies. “He has every intention of buying you. Don’t distress yourself.”

“I told you it was fine,” Dido says, smiling at her. “And what a beautiful place this is!”

Vitalio walks back into the atrium, now relieved of his burden. He scowls at Amara. “Let’s see how long this one lasts,” he shouts, stomping up the stairs.

Amara stares after him. “What did he mean by that?”

“Oh, nothing. You know Vitalio; he’s always bad-tempered.” Philos smiles, but he looks uncomfortable. Vitalio’s outburst was too extreme for this to be a reasonable explanation, and they all know it.