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‘Your dedication will not be forgotten. You are my soldiers in this final battle. Mortal rot is decaying the pantheon, but we shall stand strong and united in the face of this rebellion of women. And as for Minerva…’
Jupiter looked up, locking eyes with her in the audience. He’d sensed her presence in his mind.
He knew she was there, spying on his memory.
‘She will be punished to the highest degree.’
11. THE THREE COINS
The protestors had given up their daily assembly in the Forum after several days of rain, though the lost legion still had not been located. Not even Minerva’s mirror could provide any clues as to their whereabouts. Marcellus didn’t return to make his report as promised, no matter how many times he was summoned to do so, though General Aquinas assured her the matter was firmly in hand. The missing men’s relatives still showed up at the palace each day, hoping for an update, but Claudia had none to give them. If there was news, it wasn’t shared with her: a sign that her strength was already waning. She was empress, and she was failing.
Hieronymus again told her not to worry about it – that Marcellus and General Aquinas were handling the matter. They pushed her to make progress with the prince instead.
Behind the scenes, negotiations continued on the topic of their marriage, though she had not yet said yes. Once or twice, she heard them bartering – his advisors and hers – as if bringing together two warring armies. In a way, they were.
Day after day, gifts from the prince arrived on the hour, each one larger and grander than the last.
Claudia and Gia had enjoyed many of them together, including a set of aromatic oils and a hamper of exotic fruit, while others were treasured by Claudia alone: an armlet laid with precious stones, perfumes and cosmetics with delectable scents, and a series of small wooden animals, including a winged lion with a beak and goat horns.
Claudia didn’t think he’d be able to top the lynx named Princess, which now accompanied her everywhere, or the imperial marble bust he’d had sculpted in her likeness, which Gia had taken to petting when no one was looking, but Claudia was yet again proved wrong when she unveiled his latest offering: an oil-painted mural of her as Venus.
‘It is my favourite work of art,’ said Gia.
‘It feels like a bad omen,’ said Claudia, as they admired it together, ‘if the Trojan War is anything to go by.’
‘I’m sure the goddess will understand,’ said Gia. ‘It’s not as if you had it commissioned yourself.’
‘At least no one has tossed a golden apple yet.’
When a troop of soldiers passed by, they both pretended to admire the painting, beholding the empress emerging from a clamshell.
‘Do you think his intentions are still merely diplomatic?’ asked Gia, when they’d passed.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Claudia.
Gia raised one brow, giving her a quizzical look. ‘I doubt he’d have gifted Decimus with a semi-nude portrait,’ she said.
‘He was not arranged in marriage to my brother.’
‘It’s just quite… sensual, isn’t it? Desiring, even. What if he is truly falling for you? What then?’
They stared at the artwork in silence again. Claudia hadn’t yet considered the possibility too deeply. She had just assumed they were both playing the same game. Feelings had little to do with political manoeuvres.
‘I am managing the situation,’ said Claudia.
‘Are you sure? If you don’t do something to discourage him, I’m afraid he might propose… and this time, he shall mean it.’
‘I will take my time to observe, and come up with a plan.’
If the prince had real feelings for her, that could certainly complicate matters.
On the other hand, he might be more pliable to her requirements. He might even be open to some kind of arrangement, one that would leave room for Gia.
For now, she decided to play along, whether the prince was playing the same game or not.
The following day, Darius requested a date.
They ate seafood near the river and rode a horse-drawn chariot around the city. They drove up to the top of Janiculum Hill, watching as the sun sank below the panoramic horizon.
