Chapter 2
Two nights later, Aelius accompanied Catullus to a grand townhouse on the Palatine Hill. His finest toga lay heavy and unwieldy on his shoulders, and he kept adjusting it as he followed Catullus into the atrium.
He tried not to look too impressed by their lavish surroundings but couldn’t help craning his head up at the carved capitals of the columns surrounding the room, painted in red, blue and green. Intricate mosaics of colored tile spread beneath his feet, and lanternlight sparkled on the water of the central pool. A collection of elaborately painted antique vases, each on their own carved pedestal, surrounded the perimeter of the room. They must be worth a fortune.
Sounds of music and laughter grew louder as a slave escorted them toward the dining room. With anxious fingers, Aelius twisted the silver wristband on his left wrist. He strove to tamp down his nerves. He’d have to get used to mingling with the elite if he wanted to be consul one day. At least no one here knew his true background. They’d take him for a plebeian, not a freedman.
They entered the dining room. Colorful frescoes were splashed across the walls. In the flickering light, the figures almost looked as if they were moving. It was some sort of mythological scene, but Aelius couldn’t make out which one.
Catullus introduced him to their host, a gray-haired senator named Crispinus, and his wife, a woman with a simpering smile and cold eyes. Then they took their seats on the low couches placed around the three-branched table. Slaves brought around silver platters of appetizers. Catullus piled his plate high, but Aelius was too distracted to eat much.
Catullus shoved a poached fig into his mouth and nudged Aelius. He tilted his chin toward two young ladies sitting with an older woman who had to be their mother at the opposite wing of the table. “Two contenders over there. I know for a fact their family has two more daughters at home. They’ll struggle to find suitable husbands for all of them. Might be willing to sacrifice one to your cause.”
One of the young ladies caught Aelius’s eye and smiled, her appreciative gaze skimming his body. Aelius smiled back.
The girls’ mother noticed and shot Aelius a glare sharp enough to pierce metal. She spoke a firm word to her daughter, who redirected her gaze elsewhere with a chastened look.
“Perhaps not,” Aelius muttered. Even a plebeian was not good enough to smile at a pretty patrician girl, apparently.
Catullus shrugged and reached for his goblet of wine. Aelius scanned the other guests. He glanced over several wives seated next to their husbands. His gaze landed on another seemingly single young woman. “What about that one?”
Catullus shook his head. “Engaged to a magistrate.”
Aelius kept looking. His gaze paused on a young woman seated next to their host, Crispinus. She must have slipped in after they’d entered, because he hadn’t noticed her during their introduction to Crispinus and his wife. She seemed a few years older than the other unmarried girls. A vibrant blue palla was pinned to her head, covering her hair, and she wore no makeup. Even in the dim room, Aelius could see deep shadows beneath her eyes. She sat stiffly upright, her mouth frozen in a dissatisfied frown, her eyes fixed on the empty plate before her. She sat so still she could have been carved from marble.A statue, fit to worship.
Aelius couldn’t seem to shift his gaze from her. He caught a hint of glossy dark hair beneath the sapphire fabric. A sudden, inappropriate urge overtook him to know what that hair would feel like twined through his fingers.
“Who’s that?” Aelius murmured, tilting his chin toward the woman.
Catullus raised his eyebrows. “Why, that’s Crispina, of course,” he said, as if that should explain everything.
The name did explain one thing. “Our host’s daughter?”
Catullus nodded. “Don’t you pay any attention to gossip?” When Aelius shook his head, Catullus leaned forward, lowering his voice. “Crispina’s husband divorced her last month. It was a considerable scandal. For a senator’s daughter to be sent packing, disgraced…”
That explained her unhappy bearing. “What did she do?”
“It’s what shedidn’tdo,” Catullus said. “She was married for three years, and couldn’t provide her husband with a child. So he divorced her to find a more fertile wife, and now every man in Rome knows she’s barren. I hear her parents are very displeased with her, and they won’t be making her life easy now that she’s back. She’s either got a life of solitude ahead of her or a marriage to some decrepit old man who just wants a pretty wife for his last few years. Maybe she can snag a priestess-hood if she’s lucky. A terrible waste, isn’t it?”
Aelius’s interest piqued. He took another long look at the young woman. Could she be what he was searching for? He couldn’t hope for better than a senator’s daughter, and she had no better options. Her father would be desperate to get her off his hands, and he might even be willing to contemplate someone like Aelius as a suitor.
“Shouldn’t I consider her, then?” Aelius asked. “She could be exactly what I need.”
Catullus’s mouth tightened. “I thought about suggesting you go after her, but I think she should be a last resort. I know her. She was prickly at best before her divorce, and since then I imagine her temperament has only soured further. To make matters worse, she’s extremely well-read and intelligent. She can recite Homer backwards and forwards, and I think she even knows Aramaic—”
“What, you don’t think I can hold my own with an educated woman?”
“With all due respect, my friend, you’re not exactly an academic.” Catullus lowered his voice even further, speaking close to Aelius’s ear. “Crispina dared to correct me—me!—at a party a few months back when I was reciting Sappho. In front of everyone, can you fathom it? It was horribly rude.”
“Ah, so you just don’t like her because she embarrassed you,” Aelius said. “Well, I don’t know any Sappho, so she can hardly repeat the offense.”
Motion flickered where Crispina had been sitting, and Aelius returned his gaze to her. She rose from her couch with brisk but graceful movements and headed for the door.
Aelius seized his chance and rose as well. Speaking to her alone could be his best opportunity to create a good first impression.
“If you’re not back by the time the next course is served, I’ll assume the atrium has a new statue,” Catullus said.
Aelius blinked at him. “What?”
