For once, she’d been grateful for Silvanus’s presence. He’d sat with Avitus during the nights, while Volusia kept vigil during the days. When Avitus finally died, Silvanus had been at his side. She began to think that maybe Silvanus had truly cared for her husband.
Her gaze went to the one piece of jewelry that wasn’t in the box—her wedding ring. It shone too brightly on her finger, polished by ten years of daily wear. She took a deep breath and twisted it off her finger. It yielded easily, and in a moment, her finger was bare. A swell of emotion rose within her, too thick to name.
Footsteps sounded behind her. Volusia dropped the ring into the jewelry box and turned to see Iris enter the room.
“Petronax is here to see you, mistress. I can turn him away if you like.”
Volusia shook her head and rose. “I’ll receive him in the atrium.”
Iris clasped her hands together. “Are you sure, mistress? You’ve hardly slept. You should be resting.”
“I’ll rest later.” Between funeral arrangements and preparing for her inevitable departure from Narbo, there was too much to be done. Something else occurred to her as she thought of their departure—a conversation she needed to have with Iris. “Petronax can wait for a moment. There’s something I need to speak with you about.” She beckoned Iris closer.
Iris closed the door and came to stand before her. “Yes, mistress?”
Volusia gazed at the face of her faithful companion. “Iris, I want you to know that I was planning on freeing you here in Gaul, close to your family. I only waited because I didn’t want to send you off with nothing, and Avitus had promised to gift me some money to give to you on my birthday.”
Iris’s face remained blank, but Volusia knew her well enough to catch the flicker of emotion in her pale blue eyes. “That would have been most generous, mistress.”
“No more than you deserve. But now that he’s gone, I have nothing to give you. Not now, at least. Avitus’s will transferred his entire estate to my control, to keep in trust until Lucius comes of age. Once I return to Rome, I can give you what you deserve. So I wanted to give you the choice. I’ll free you now, if you desire it. Or, if you stay with me until Rome, I can send you off with enough money to set up a life for yourself wherever you choose.”
Iris met Volusia’s gaze for a moment, as if trying to ascertain whether she was serious. Then, Iris dropped to her knees and pressed her forehead to Volusia’s feet in a quick, formal gesture of gratitude. “Thank you, mistress. I will go with you to Rome.”
Relief filtered through her at Iris’s choice. At least, after having lost Avitus, she wouldn’t have to lose Iris just yet. She bent and raised Iris to her feet, clasping her hands. “Thank you. I wasn’t looking forward to making that journey alone, besides the escort. Now, I should go speak with Petronax. Likely he wishes to discuss the arrangements for my departure.”
Iris nodded and stood aside. Volusia exited her bedroom, and Iris fell into step behind her.
The legion’s commander waited in the atrium, garbed in a black toga. Volusia herself didn’t have any black clothing, so wore her most drab gray dress with a matching palla pinned to her head to cover her hair, which she’d left unbound as befitted a widow in mourning.
Petronax gave a small nod when she approached. “My condolences on your loss, lady.”
“Thank you.”
“I came to tell you that an escort is being prepared as we speak for your departure from Narbo. You may leave at your earliest convenience.”
“The funeral rites have not even taken place.” Petronax seemed quite eager to rush her away, as if to remove every trace of the province’s former governor.
“Of course you may stay to see the formalities observed. Will you wish for your husband’s ashes to be interred here, or will you take them back to Rome?”
“They belong with our family in Rome.” She thought the loss would be easier for her son to comprehend if she could present some physical proof of his father’s death, even if just an urn of ashes. “If that’s all, commander, I have much to attend to.”
He gave a stiff nod, then turned on his heel and left the house.
Volusia watched him go. His visit brought to mind the dark thoughts that had plagued her as Avitus had inexplicably sickened. It seemed impossible that his death could be nothing more than tragic happenstance. As she had watched her vigorous husband waste away before her, foul play seemed the only thing that made sense.
But no sooner could such a thought enter her mind than she recalled all the reasons it didn’t add up. Firstly, how could anyone want Avitus dead? True, she’d overheard him and Petronax arguing, but a mere argument was hardly a reason for the legion’s highest commander to murder a Senate-appointed governor.
Furthermore, even if Petronax had wanted Avitus dead, she couldn’t think of how it might have been accomplished. Avitus had been taken ill after dinner, so poison seemed likely, but she and Silvanus had eaten from the same dishes and drank the same wine, and neither of them had suffered any illness.
It just didn’t add up, but something in her refused to believe a healthy, vital man like Avitus could be struck down so easily.
She heaved a sigh. There was one person who might be able to sympathize with the frazzled workings of her mind right now, so she dismissed Iris and went to find Silvanus. She had to ask him about his plans to leave Narbo anyway.
The door to Silvanus’s bedroom was closed, and she hesitated before knocking gently. This was the room Avitus had spent his nights in, the room he’d died in.
“Yes?” came the call from within.
“It’s Volusia.”
