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“Hmm,” the man said. “You mean Hersilia, obviously. But you? With clothes like that? I thought all of Hersilia’s friends were from good families. Girls she has plans for.”

Safinia bristled. “She had plans for me, we just—put them aside.”

“Doubly interesting. Hold on—” The man slipped inside, closing the door behind him to a sliver, as footsteps approached, then faded, once again. “Guards. They never used to poke around indoors. Though you can imagine that’s changed, since you seem to be in on the same secret I am.”

“What secret is that?”

“Don’t be obtuse. You said it yourself—where your friend is. I don’t know, either, and it has me concerned. I assume we’re both here for the same reason—to figure out where Hersilia’s gone and, if need be, bring her back.”

He said all this like it made perfect sense. As if they had known each other for a casual lifetime, and there was no need to explain himself further. For all Safinia knew, he was behind the kidnappings. She flipped the closure on her sheath and drew the knife. “Who are you, and how do you know Hersilia?”

The man rolled his eyes. “And, undoubtedly, ‘Why should I trust you?’ But fine: I met Hersilia a number of years ago and pop in every once in a while to advise her on various matters of state, while she assists me with my research. She is a friend, I think you’d say. As for my name, it’s Titus Livius.” The man’s lips curled in a smile. “But history will know me as Livy.”

“I’ve never heard of you.”

“No, but your children will.” Livy grinned, his teeth flashing in the dim light. “And their children. Your turn, now. Why are you compelled to look for Hersilia?”

“Because she’s made herself hard to find.”

“Clever. We’ll get nowhere with banter, you know.”

Safinia lowered her knife a fraction. She could see nothing in Livy’s eyes but exasperated sincerity. And at least for the moment, he held her safety in hand. If he called for the guards, it would take days or weeks to sort out. “Hersilia and I used to be close. And I thought—if Numa doesn’t have anyone looking for her, I may as well. I can move more freely than her other friends.”

She didn’t dare mention Orestilla, not yet. Thankfully, Livy took this explanation at face value. “It’s a noble idea, and you’re brave enough to be interesting to me. I can’t help but feel like you’d benefit from being able to read, though. Would you like my help?”

“Why?” Safinia held the scrolls to her chest as if he might snatch them from her hands.

“I told you,” Livy said, with the patience of a man explaining something to a child. “I want to find Hersilia, too, and you’re the first person I’ve met who will even admit she’s missing. Look, I may be more writer than warrior, but I don’t relish the idea of Hersilia being carried off before she can see out her destiny.”

Another interruption—this time two or three sets of footsteps, and the low murmur of voices. As they passed, Livy whispered, “What do I need to do to prove myself to you? I could show you my own name in Hersilia’s notes, but you wouldn’t understand it.”

“Try something and I’ll let you know if it works,” Safinia whispered back.

“Fine. Okay. This scroll here—” He grabbed one off the desk and unfurled it. “Hmm. Boring. Just a love note from some admirer.”

She made him read it twice. None of the contents seemed sinister, if Livy was to be trusted, but Safinia held on to it anyway. They went through three other scrolls—two seemed to be notes, written by Hersilia, attending a meeting on grain allotment with the councilors. The third was more promising. Livy hmm’d as he unrolled it.

“Also in Hersilia’s hand. It’s a letter. Unfinished, so she was interrupted. It’s addressed to the trusted scribe of Anthemina Sylvia, who, if I’m not mistaken, is the eldest daughter of the current governor of Crustumerium. Far to the south but still technically a Sabine city-state, for now at least. I believe they’re largely a farm economy, though it’s possible—”

“That’s enough,” Safinia hissed. Her heart beat wildly—this was the girl Tarpeia thought Hersilia might have gone to see. She stuffed the Crustumerium scroll into her belt. Again, footsteps. Had Orestilla been caught? “I know of Crustumerium, alright? That’s the one we need. Now I have to get out of here.”

“Yes, you do.” The abrupt change in Livy’s tone was alarming. “There’s another set of guards. It won’t be long before they start opening doors. Come along.”

Livy leaned out the dim hallway and then motioned Safinia forward, his air one of a person engaged in the adventure of their life and enjoying it very much. He took her in the other direction from Hersilia’s bedroom, and though the guards seemed to be focusing their attention elsewhere, they had to tuck themselves into alcoves twice to avoid pairs of them. By the time Livy shoved her into a dim kitchen, Safinia’s worry for Orestilla had mounted into dread.

He misinterpreted her anxiety. “I’m sure the kidnapper hasn’t returned.”

“It’s not that.” Safinia chewed the tip of her thumb. On consideration, her trust only went so far. “Just point out where to go.”

The kitchen had a small door for deliveries, but it opened onto the opposite side of the grounds from where she snuck in with Orestilla. Livy shrugged. “I’m sure there are some hideaways, but my best advice is to head into the orchard and climb a tree close to the privacy wall. I can’t help you on the way down, but you look strong enough to take a small fall.” Safinia moved to leave, and he grabbed her by the arm. “Wait. I feel compelled to warn you to be careful.”

“Sneaking out?”

“Among other things.” Livy’s expression was shrouded, and just then it occurred to Safinia the hundred or more questions she should be asking him—where he came from, how he knew Hersilia. But at any moment a guard could pass by. “You may attract attention if word gets out you’re looking for Hersilia. It could impact your safety—needlessly, I might add. I’ve only known you for an evening, but I shouldn’t want to see you on the wrong side of whatever man was audacious enough to spirit away our mutual friend.”

Safinia jerked her arm out of Livy’s grip; as soon as she tested it his hold felt oddly weak, as if he had no real strength in his fingers. She did not think he was threatening her—on the contrary, everything in his bearing spoke sincerely. But there was something left untold, and it raised her hackles. Right now, she wanted to be as far from this strange man as she could get.

The ring she’d picked up bumped against her leg. Safinia thought about offering it back to Livy again—assurance, maybe, in case the thing he was not telling her was that he planned to go straight to Numa and repeat her description. When her fingers closed around it, though, the stillness in the orchard was cut by the harsh, too close and too loud call of a crow that should have been long asleep.