“Stop apologizing. I’m not a fragile vase. I won’t break and fall apart so easily.”
His gaze returned to me as he bit his lip. “You’re right. You’re stronger than most men I know.”
“You mean mentally and emotionally, of course,” I added with a little sarcasm.
“I mean in the ways that count.”
The litter stopped and was lowered to the ground. Trajan’s expression tightened as he opened the curtain and stepped out, holding the drapes for me. There was a servant man at the open door of what must be Fausta’s home.
He glanced up the street then down, ushering us inside. To anyoneelse watching, we were simply a patrician and his whore stepping into another noble lady’s house for a bit of fun. But it didn’t hurt to be cautious.
Once inside, the man said, “I am Octavio. Follow me.”
He appeared in his forties, of average height and a slim build. We followed him through the opulent house, past a fountain with a sculpture of three naiads dancing with flowers as its centerpiece.
Finally, we made it to a private parlor with no windows where Fausta stood waiting. She was a beautiful woman—long brown hair styled in soft curls over one shoulder, her black stola elegantly draped over a fine figure.
“Welcome,” she said, stepping forward and greeting Trajan with a kiss to the cheek.
I ignored the instant envy that pricked my breast. I’d never felt such an emotion about a man, ever. There was no reason in regard to Jardani because he was mine and completely devoted to me. I hadn’t desired another man. Until now.
“Fausta, this is Lela,” Trajan introduced us.
She stepped in front of me. “It is a pleasure to meet you.” She looked at my disheveled state and turned an accusing look on Trajan.
“We had to pretend to be lovers when a praetorian guard stopped us in the street,” he told her.
“Did he suspect anything?” she asked.
“No,” said Trajan, his voice deeper and harder than usual. He was on edge.
Fausta looked at him questioningly, her expression suddenly going soft and concerned. But I didn’t understand why.
“I see.” Then she turned her gaze to me. “No matter.” She blinked quickly, the supernatural light in her eyes fading away. “I am Fausta Ovidius, and I’m going to get you out of Rome tomorrow night.”
“Tomorrow?” asked Trajan. “You said it would be tonight.”
My pulse quickened suddenly. This would be the last time I saw Trajan. Nausea burned in my belly.
Fausta shook her head. “My informer told me today that Caesar ordered all shipments to be inspected tonight. I’ll delay moving her to the ship until tomorrow night, then the ship will leave port by dark.”
“The port master won’t suspect something?” he asked.
“No. Ships come and go by day and night all the time. The import and export business doesn’t ever stop, and my granary business is one of the most important. My taxes to Caesar continuously fill his treasury.” She shrugged. “Besides, tomorrow night is the feast at Caesar’s palace celebrating General Drussus. It will be quiet on Palatine Hill with so many attending the feast.”
Trajan turned to me. “I should take her home then. Bring her back tomorrow.”
“Why?” asked Fausta. “She’s more protected here. My servants won’t talk. And we risk exposure moving her again until we have to.”
I could see him wrestling with his emotions, his concern etched in the tightness of his brow. Instinctually, I moved to face him and placed a hand on his forearm.
“It is all right. I’ll be fine here.” I smiled, even while I was sickened at this goodbye. “You’ve done what you promised,” I assured him.
He’d held up his end of the bargain in exchange for a favor. I didn’t mention helping him to see the Visigoth in prison, because I didn’t want Fausta to know of my magical gift. She might be helping me, but I didn’t trust her. I didn’t trust anyone but Trajan.
By the gods, it was true. I trusted him.
“Will you give us a minute, Fausta?”
