But not enough.
He’d known since he was seventeen that his love for her was doomed. The past few weeks had only made that clearer. There were too many obstacles: Rufus’s hatred of him, her son’s need for an influential stepfather, even the fact that she’d want to live in Rome while he couldn’t stand the city.
“I know,” he said, his voice suddenly hoarse. “I still love you, though.” The words might have been the most futile he’d ever spoken, but at least he could hear how they sounded as they hung in the air, and see the warmth that spread across her face, mixed with uncertainty. Speaking them aloud turned his decade-old longing into something real, something he could grasp onto even if Volusia would never be his.
And hearing from her lips that she loved him, too—well, that could be enough to sustain him until the end of his days.
He stepped back from the litter. The litter-bearers bent and lifted the litter in a smooth motion, then set off down the street. Max watched the litter disappear around the corner.
He needed to seriously consider Hortensius’s offer of joining a far-off legion in Syria or Egypt. The military life was the only thing he knew, after all. If not the army, what would he do with himself? Maybe, if he traveled east, the hot desert sun would finally burn away thoughts of Volusia.
Chapter 25
Volusiareturnedhome,hermind reeling from Max’s confession, Hortensius’s proposal, and the question of Silvanus.
She focused on the last one, as it was most pertinent to her current situation. Once she brought about justice for Avitus, she could focus on her future—whether that included Max, Hortensius, or someone else entirely.
If Max was right, why had Silvanus seemingly come back to Rome when he’d told her he planned to stay in Narbo? Maybe he’d taken their conversation to heart and started asking questions about Petronax. Maybe the commander had gotten wind of it, and Silvanus had decided it was safer to retreat to Rome.
Whatever the reason, Silvanus seemed her only lead to possibly uncover the proof that Hortensius required.
The problem now was that she had no idea where to find Silvanus. If he even was in Rome.
When she reached home, she asked Orion to do some investigating. He could ask the slaves at the baths where Max had spotted Silvanus. Perhaps someone would remember him and knew where to find him. If that didn’t work, there were plenty of taverns and gathering spots in that neighborhood he might frequent. If enough people were asked—and enough coin offered as motivation—someone would know him.
Orion accepted the mission with a nod. Volusia handed him a purse of coin with which to make his questions welcome, and he set off.
It could take days to locate Silvanus, if Orion was even successful. Volusia didn’t know how to occupy herself. If she tried to pass the time at weaving, as she was often accustomed, she knew her mind would wander to Max. For now, it was safer not to think of him.
She went in search of Lucius and found him in the peristyle sitting with one of his tutors. The private garden at the back of the house was often a favorite spot for lessons on sunny days. She’d taken Lucius out of school shortly before leaving for Narbo; his intelligence irritated the other students, and after finding out that he'd become the target of bullies, she’d swiftly arranged private tutelage.
The tutor rose to his feet when Volusia appeared and greeted her with a respectful nod. "Good afternoon, lady."
Lucius jumped up, barely catching a scroll as it rolled off his lap. “Mama! I’m learning about the Punic Wars. Did you know they fought with elephants?”
Her mind immediately jumped to Max and his beloved horse. “I did know that. Quite strange to think of, isn’t it?”
“How many elephants did Hannibal try to cross the Alps with?” the tutor asked Lucius.
“Thirty-seven,” Lucius answered promptly, and the tutor nodded. Lucius had the ability to retain all sorts of information, but numbers especially seemed to stick in his mind like honey to a spoon.
Volusia smiled. “Is he doing well?” she asked the tutor.
“He’s the smartest boy I’ve ever taught of his age, lady,” the tutor said. “His memory is prodigious, as is his skill with arithmetic.”
“I’m sure you say that to all the mothers.”
“I assure you, I do not, lady,” he said. “You are welcome to stay and see for yourself, if you like.”
Watching Lucius learn about long-ago wars seemed a safe way to occupy her mind, so she nodded. “Thank you.” She took a seat on a bench opposite them.
The tutor quizzed Lucius on dates of various battles and names of commanders, all of which he answered correctly. The tutor then explained a certain point about the military strategy used by one of those commanders, which Volusia barely followed, and asked Lucius how that strategy differed from previous battles. Lucius gave a clear, concise answer, which pleased the tutor.
Listening to this lesson reaffirmed Volusia’s belief that Lucius had great things ahead of him, if she could only provide him the right opportunities. Aligning with a man like Hortensius, a patrician and a consul at that, could open many doors.
But as soon as she thought of Hortensius, Max’s words echoed in her mind.“I loved you when I was seventeen. I loved you when I stepped in front of Glabrio’s sword. And I love you still, Volusia.”She had spent ten years in a loveless, if cordial, marriage. Could she enter another marriage for reasons that had nothing to do with love, even if it was best for her son?
Regardless of what she wanted, Max had his own life to live. He didn’t enjoy living in Rome, preferring the expanse of the countryside and the comparative wilderness of the provinces. He was not the sort of man who would be happy hosting dinner parties every night to foster social connections. Besides, now that he’d been offered a position in a distant legion, he might leave and she’d never see him again.
