His accent was thick, telling me he’d not lived long on the Italic peninsula.
“Very tasty,” I said. “You have talent.”
The man growled as though I’d insulted him. “Paterfamilias says it’s Greek junk.”
“The paterfamilias is wrong,” I assured him. “Your cooking is some of the finest I’ve had.”
The chef’s tone softened slightly. “It is the best I can do in this place.”
This room was sparsely supplied, but I’d noticed that even the most wealthy patricians didn’t spend much on their kitchens. They expected their slaves to produce perfect meals out of nothing.
“You’ve been most kind, Hypatos,” Cassia told him.
Hypatos barked a gravelly laugh and turned his back on us, continuing his efforts. Cassia walked out with me to the corridor leading to the peristyle.
“Are we going home now, Leonidas?” she asked, relief in her voice.
“Staying the night,” I had to say. “It’s too dark to leave, and it’s raining as well.”
Cassia regarded me in some alarm. “Staying here? Where are we to sleep?”
“The majordomo is preparing chambers for us.”
“For you.” Cassia’s alarm changed to fear. “I’ll be expected to sleep in the storerooms with the others.”
She did not have to explain her worry. Female servants were often fair game for the males of the household.
“I’ll have the majordomo prepare a pallet for you inside my doorway,” I said. “I’ll tell him I have need of you.”
“He will believe he knows what need.” Cassia turned her face from me, a flush spreading across her cheekbones.
“Let them,” I told her. “Better that than being passed around Cloelius’s slaves.”
Cassia disliked my bluntness, but she gave me a faint nod. She moved closer to me, her voice quieting. “I met Vibius’s wife, Aelia. She hates it here.”
I didn’t much like the gloom of the place myself, in spite of the lamps Cloelius apparently insisted on having lit throughout. The house had once been opulent, but that had been long ago. Its splendor was as frayed as the silk draperies over the doors.
“Is that why she married Vibius?” I asked. “To get away from this domus?”
Cassia touched her cheek with her forefinger, as she would do with a stylus when she was lost in thought. “Aelia seems quite fond of Vibius. She finds him cordial and polite, which makes such a change from her brother.”
“She said that?” I wondered that she dared. Cloelius constantly mocked others, but I assumed he’d not hesitate to punish a sister who slighted him.
“Aelia implied it heavily. She will not be happy about spending the night, I think.”
“At least we are here, along with Vibius,” I said. “He and I can keep Cloelius distracted from her.”
“Aelia is not cowed by her brother, though she much prefers her simple house on the Aventine. I like her,” Cassia said with sincerity. High praise. Cassia did not bestow her affection on many.
“Her simple house might be warmer than this one,” I said. The darkness was cold, even on a spring evening.
“She says that years ago, Cloelius used to stay away for days at a time,” Cassia said. “And once spent a long stretch in the family house in the mountains, which is not much better maintained than this one, apparently. He never paid attention to keeping up either house. Aelia was happy to leave.”
I would have been as well, though if someone handed me this house and told me it was mine forever, I’d not shun the gift. I’d find a way to restore it, even if I had to rebuild it by hand. Cloelius must have ceased caring at some point in his life.
“I will tell Euphemios about the sleeping arrangements,” I said, ending our whispered conversation. “Will you be all right until we retire?”
Cassia shivered, pulling her cloak closer around her. “Hypatos enjoyed speaking with me, and the others respect him. I will remain in the kitchen with him until you send for me.”
