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Fortunately, the rain had diminished to a drizzle as I walked down the lane. It was just after midday. I didn’t have much time to get to the old quarter—wherever that was—by the top of the hour. I remembered the messenger station we had passed when we went to see the orrery.

A young man in a straw hat oversaw the messengers and carts. He explained that the old quarter was too far away for a young lady to reach on foot. Would I like to hire a carriage? In fact, I would. What was my destination? Casa Violetta. He looked at me closely from under his yellow hat brim, but waved over a shuffling driver who nodded slowly and climbed up onto the carriage box.

We rolled through the Bronze Gate, past the soldiers in blue, and out of the Imperial District. The Mese was crowded and noisy. Men on horses and on foot, women and children, merchants, all talked and shouted and nearly collided in the busy road. We passed a fishmonger and a baker, and even from inside the carriage I could tell them by the smell of their wares. A coppersmith made sparks with his hammer. Two men carried a green silk banner. A group of women filed past in veils and long black robes with the sign of Gurgexenes, causing a brief silence in the road. What a thrill to be out in the world, going to meet friends for a meal! I pushed aside the whisper in my mind that Sebastianus would caution me against this trip. If he was too busy managing the Imperator’s business to be bothered with me, I didn’t need to wait around. I could manage this.

We turned off the Mese into the oldest part of the city. The streets grew narrower. Warehouses and storefronts crowded together. Several buildings were burned, their charred windows and doorways gaping. Women walked along the side of the road wearing ripped tunics, and ragged children played in dirty puddles. There was a rank smell in the air. The old quarter seemed to live up to its name in many ways. Finally, the carriage stopped in front of a tired-looking place with a purple blossom painted over the door.

“You sure this is where you want to get out?” the driver called down.

I looked around, uncertain, and then with relief I saw, a few yards beyond, the silent coachman who had come to the villa with Georgios’s family. He leaned against a carruca with polished wood and large spoked wheels that was drawn up to the side of the road.

“Yes, thank you.” I reached up and pressed a coin into the driver’s palm.

He nodded and drove off at a rapid clip.

I went inside. Just beyond the door, an old woman was asleep in a rickety chair. She opened her eyes as I entered the small front room. There were water stains on the dirty plaster walls, and the air smelled damp and musty.

She pushed herself upright. “What do you want?”

“I’m meeting friends here for the midday meal,” I said, even as I began to register that this was a very unlikely place for Agatha, Helena and me to meet. “Their coachman is just outside.”

“Listen to that fancy voice. Right over here, Imperatrix. Your food is ready.” She began to laugh, a breathy cackle, and then coughed. “Why don’t you come in? One of our girls can show you a bit of fun. Take your hood down.”

A fog of confusion had enveloped my mind. Mechanically, I pulled back my palla.

The old woman stared. “Luca, Luca, come out here.”

A pale, doughy man with watery eyes emerged from behind a tattered purple curtain. He was followed by a young woman, naked from the waist up. She carried a baby, who strained to reach her heavy breasts. A toddler peeked out from behind her skirt.

“Look at this one, Luca.” The old woman pointed, even though I was the only possible person she could mean. “Says she’s meeting a friend. With a voice like silk. And have you ever seen a face like that? And that hair. Looks like a bowl of honey.”

They all stared at me. The young woman spoke first. Her breast was leaking milk. “What’s your friend’s name, sweetie?”

“Agatha.” The word tasted like ashes in my mouth.

“No Agatha here,” she said.

The front door opened again, and a man stumbled in. He reeked of ale and smoke.

I stood back hastily while he said something to the old woman and passed her a copper coin.

“Talia here will take you,” she said with a jerk of her thumb.

The man looked hungrily at the young woman’s naked breasts. “No kids watching,” he said.

Talia handed the baby to the old woman and pulled the toddler away from the folds of her skirt. The child began to cry, and the old woman pinched its arm. Talia and the man disappeared behind the curtain.

Luca leaned against the wall. “You looking for a little work?” he asked. “We could use another girl. We only have three: my wife, Talia, and two others.”

My head began to clear a little. “This is Casa Violetta?”

“It is,” he said.

“Is there a place nearby with a similar name? A café?”

“Oh, yes,” the old woman said. “Right next door is a lovely café. Same name.” She laughed.

“And a vineyard next to that,” said Luca.