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With a strong arm supporting my back, he laid me down gently on the soft grass and began to show me the many things my Corlivo training had omitted.

AFTERWARD I LAY contentedly in his arms, feeling the night air all around me. It seemed so decadent to be outside, naked in the dark. I stretched and snuggled against him. “I want another plum.”

I felt the rumble in his chest as he laughed. “I begin to understand what all the fuss is about tirae.”

“Oh, no,” I said. “That is not representative of all tirae. Just me. The most beautiful woman you have ever seen.”

He smiled. “I’m going to regret telling you that, aren’t I.”

It felt so comfortable to lie there, skin against skin, that I asked him something I had wondered about since the first time I saw him. “Can I look at your eye?”

He hesitated and then said, “Look all you want.”

In the moonlight his injured eye was pure white, without so much as a vein running through it, although I noticed a small scar near the inside corner.

“Can you see out of it?” I asked.

“Not at all. Does it bother you?”

I touched his eyebrow. “No. I’m so used to it, I hardly notice.”

“You take some getting used to yourself,” he said. “I didn’t expect to become so fond of you.”

After a while the air grew chilly, and we decided to go inside. We put our clothes back on. He took my hand, and together we crossed the broad, dark lawn. He stopped to kiss me in the entrance hall, in the courtyard, and again as we made our way up to the second floor.

His bedchamber was at a corner of the house, directly above his study. Windows let in the moonlight. The large, beautifully carved cedar bed had a heavy headboard and footboard and four thick posts. The room also held a large cedar wardrobe, a small table, a looking glass, and a bowl of white roses that Cornelia must have left when she last tidied up.

He closed the door behind us. “Sleep in here with me tonight.”

Under his watchful eye I undressed and slipped between the soft sheets. He stripped off his own clothing, climbed in, and pulled me close against him.

He knew I was going to go. I felt it in the desperate way he held me in bed that night, in the way he whispered stories to me in the dark of the places across the continent he would take me to as soon as he raised the funds. He told me we would continue the search for Arcadius’s lost cave city together, reminded me that even a small part of the great treasure would make me an independent woman of means. He knew me the way no one else ever had, and he understood what might persuade me. He made the only moves on the tabula board left to him, hoping I would surrender my pieces.

He fell asleep at last, and I lay awake, listening to his breathing, to the waves on the shore, the wind in the leaves of the orchard, wondering why, after all he had done for me, spending time by his side was not enough. Why could Sebastianus not be the whole world to me? Wasn’t this—the opportunity to help him explore a lost cave city—the sort of adventure I had dreamed of since childhood? Just a few short months ago, I had been dazzled by the thought of adventuring with a wealthy man.

But it was no longer enough. I tossed and turned on the pillow, marveling at the strangeness of his sleeping form beside me. Having brought me out into the world, having taught me, having fed and watered my dreams and desires, Sebastianus had expanded my horizons beyond where they had been. I could no longer be content to be a student or an assistant. I needed to achieve something completely on my own, without his aid and guidance. That, more than any treasure, would make me his equal. I felt a familiar, restless energy course through me, and it was a long time before I fell asleep.

xxi

THE NEXT DAY I ROSE EARLY AND CREPT OUT OF THE house. I walked alone through the Imperial District. It was unseasonably warm. I looked forward to removing my palla once I reached the palace garden: a place where there would be no reason to hide my appearance.

As usual, men with scrolls and stacks of parchment hurried in and out of the senate building. In the early morning light, the immense statue of the Imperator Priscian cast a long shadow across the marble plaza. The Bronze Gate was closed, but a noisy crowd seemed to be trying to rattle it open under the glare of soldiers in blue. I wondered if the unrest we had glimpsed at the Circodrome the day before had spilled over into the street.

As I walked, I tried to make peace with the risk I was taking. There was a chance that Ismene could be laying a trap for me. I had been duped before. And yet, her whispered invitation had communicated sympathy and understanding. I believed she knew something and wanted to share it with me. Choosing to trust her felt like an act of faith.

I crossed the square and entered the palace grounds. No one so much as looked twice at me as I followed a tiled path to a small wooden door. At my knock, the door was soon opened by a silent serving girl who brought me inside. I found myself in the most beautiful garden I had ever seen—so grand as to make Sebastianus’s courtyard seem like a window box. A long, deep pool was at its center, shaded by olive trees. There were walking paths, a broad lawn, clusters of cypress and mulberry trees, and rows and rows of irises, poppies, and violets. The air was deeply fragrant.

Under a white canopy beside the pool sat not only Ismene, but all three women, at an ornate wooden table. I felt a flicker of fear, but I reminded myself to be calm and observant. As I got closer, I saw that they were playing tabula. They all stood to greet me.

Ismene came forward with her arms outstretched. “I hope you can forgive me, but I didn’t want to deceive my sisters. I told them you might be coming today.”

I took her hands. “I once also had a friend who was as dear to me as a sister. I understand.” I looked around the immense garden. “Are we truly alone?”

“Yes. The Imperator is not here,” she said. “He’s in his council chamber and won’t be back until the midday meal. Let us sit down.”

I joined them at the table. The women’s features and delicate dresses were so familiar to me: an instant reminder of Casa Caligine.

Nina crossed her arms and settled back into her chair. “How is it that you come to be in Panpirion?”