“Shall we share one?” Amara suggests. The wine is expensive, the sellers’ obviously pricing in the captive audience and the loss of some of their flasks. Even on a festival day, Amara is reluctant to spend a single penny she might save for her future. Time enough to drink when she’s a free woman.

“I can get the next one,” Dido agrees as Amara takes a flask from the seller’s outstretched tray.

“For fuck’s sake!” Victoria laughs, elbowing her. “Live a little! You’re not old women yet.” She makes a point of buying herself a drink, rolling her eyes at them both as she hands over the money.

“That’s the spirit, goddess,” the seller says, looking Victoria up and down. She has a small piece of cloth tied around her breasts, another round her hips. Her legs and waist are bare. “It’s not often I get to sell to Venus herself,” he continues, smacking his lips. “For a kiss, you can have the next for free.”

“Done,” Victoria says. She downs the flask and thumps it back on his tray, making the dark liquid in the other jars wobble.

“You don’t miss a trick.”

“Do you want that kiss or not?”

He leans forward eagerly, but Victoria steps back. “Drink first.” She points to Amara. “My friend will hold it for me.”

He obliges then takes hold of Victoria with one arm, holding his tray out with the other. Before Amara can warn her, the wine seller’s hand has reached the knot at Victoria’s back. He yanks the material down, trying to expose her breasts. She shoves him off, and he lets go, anxious to save his tray.

Victoria laughs. “These will cost you more than a flask of wine,” she says, hoicking the material back up again. “If you’re in the mood later, you can find me at the Wolf Den. That’s if you can afford it.” She takes the wine from Amara, and the three of them push deeper into the crowd. “Best way to get a drink at the Vinalia,” Victoria says. “You shouldn’t have to pay for more than one.”

“Beronice doesn’t seem to be paying for any,” Dido says. “I just saw Gallus get her a flask.”

“So he should,” Victoria replies. “He’s had enough free fucks off her.” They stop to join a small circle that’s formed around a flute player. A woman is dancing to the music, the men clapping and cheering as she lowers herself to the ground, her backside and thighs quivering. “Drauca!” Victoria exclaims. They stand and watch for a moment, but Victoria is restless. “Here, you can keep this,” she says, handing her drink back to Amara. She shoves her way to the center of the circle, ignoring the catcalls, and stands in front of her rival. “I’ll show you how to move, bitch!”