'Her shrieks could be heard from here to the Aventine. The she refused to speak to me for a week. But she gave in when she realised I was determined. It cost me a violet gown though.' Her father gave a barking laugh and then his face sobered. He placed his hand on the shoulder of the portrait bust. 'Now that we are here, Julia, there is something I must ask you.'

'Yes, Father?' Julia's heart leapt. Would he ask her for her opinion about Mettalius? Perhaps In the wake of the briefs, she could convince him Mettalius was not the man she should marry. That his star was on the wane in the Senate…

'Is there anything going on between you and that gladiator?'

Julia's heart stopped. She pulled her shawl tighter about her shoulders. How to answer? If her mother were here, Julia knew she could explain the situation and her mother would understand, but would her father? He had changed so much since her mother's death and she knew what Sabina's reaction would be. Could she take the risk? She looked at his stern mouth. Later, she knew, she'd get down on her knees and ask the gods to forgive her for deceiving her father, but she hoped they would understand.

'We have met once or twice. First in the marketplace, then here and when he returned Bato to me this afternoon,' she said, choosing her words and making sure her voice sounded strong. 'I'd hardly call that something going on.'

She offered a quick prayer up to Venus that no one had seen the kiss she and Valens had shared earlier this morning. Surely, since Venus was the goddess of love as well the protector of the Julius family, she'd understand and help her.

'You are willing to swear that on the shade of your mother?'

Julia looked directly into her father's eyes. 'I have done nothing to be ashamed of or to bring disrepute on this family, you know that. I am willing to swear it on her shade.'

That much was true. She had not done anything that would disgrace the family, nor did she intend to. She knew her father would misinterpret the answer, but she had no choice. The guilt she felt at the evasion threatened to close her throat and stop her breath. If he asked more directly, she'd have to confess. There was a difference between not answering the questioning and deliberately lying. She had learnt that from her father discussing his legal cases, but the thought held little comfort.

Her father's eyes assessed her for what seemed to be an eternity. Julia's palms became damp. She fought the urge to wipe them on her gown. Then suddenly his face cleared and he patted her shoulder.

'You know what your stepmother will say. She is desperate for an alliance with Mettalius. The betrothal should be announced without delay, according to Sabina. She wants to formally consult her augur on the appropriate day and time.'

Did he guess? Or had she fooled him? His words should make her feel better, but they made the pit in her stomach grow. She sank down on a bench and stared at the bust. Her mother's firm chin and the set to her jaw gave Julia courage. Her father must still have feelings for her mother, even though she had been dead for the past five years. 'If Sabina wants to marry Mettalius, she should do so herself.'

Her father gave a sharp intake of breath.

Julia refused to allow herself time to panic. She stood up and pressed her hands together. She had to act. 'Father, I will not be made the scapegoat of some made-up scandal in order to further Sabina's social ambitions.'

'Mettalius would be useful to the family, that is true, but others may make offers because of Caesar's favour.' Her father squeezed her hand. His smile was tender.

'Are you saying I don't have to marry Mettalius?'

A twinkle appeared in her father's eye and he looked more like the man she remembered from her childhood dreams than the stern figure she had encountered over the last few years.

'Your escapade this morning has changed matters, Julia. I intend to play a waiting game. See which way the wind blows. Other more suitable alliances may appear. Question me about the war with Spartacus? Champion that dictator Sulla! At my own dinner table! Who does Mettalius think he is?'

Julia sank down into a curtsy. 'Thank you, Father. I will not make you ashamed.'

The twinkle disappeared and her father looked once more like the man she had faced across the dinner table last night.

'Mind you, if I hear you have been consorting with gladiators in public again, I may be forced to take stronger measures.'

Julia went still.

'What sort of measures?' She pushed the question around the lump in her throat. She had to know.

'As I am sure you are a respectable matron like your mother, I will have no need. If you'll excuse me, I shall leave you to contemplate your mother while I dress for dinner.'

Julia ran her fingers over the bust of her mother and placed a smile on to her lips. Her heart felt as if it were breaking. She had no doubt of what her father's threat meant. In exchange for her freedom, she agreed to give up Valens and their growing friendship. It wasn't as if there was anything between them, she argued with her heart. Yesterday, she had been unaware of his existence. But the words did nothing to ease the pain in her heart.


Valens walked through the shadowy garden at dusk. The clipped bay laurels cast long shadows over the finely raked gravel paths. In a secluded nook, Julia sat by a portrait bust of a woman who shared the same firm chin, and determined mouth. She sat as remote and still as the statue, eyes fixed on a distant spot, seemingly oblivious to his entering the garden.

'Julia,' he called softly, trying not to startle her, the speech he had decided on forming in his mind. He'd apologise one more time, then leave. He had only sought her out in order to make sure she had arrived back safely and recovered from her fright. That was the end to it. Unemotional uninterest. He was focused solely on the arena. 'Julia, we should speak.'

She started and turned towards him. In the fading light, he could make out the anguish in her gaze. Valens's stomach twisted as if she had driven a knife into it. He wanted to take away the pain and turn the shadows into smiles.

All his thoughts about keeping his distance vanished along with the polite speech he had planned. He crossed the garden in ten steps to reach her side, drawing her further back into the shadowy nook.

'What's wrong?'

She gave a tiny shrug of her shoulders. 'Nothing is the matter. Why should anything be the matter?'

'You look as if you have lost your last friend, as if all the sadness in the world is about to overwhelm you.'

Valens reached out to take her in his arms, but she stood up and moved away. Valens allowed his arms to fall to his side.

'Sometimes I miss my mother. That's her statue.' Julia pointed to the bust.

Valens looked at the statue and back at Julia. There was more to this than missing her mother.

'How long has your mother been dead?'

Two bright spots appeared on her cheeks. Her hands twisted the end of her belt. 'Five years. She died when the fever swept through Rome.'

Valens caught her arm and turned her to face him. This time she didn't move away. She stood rigid. As he moved his hand up her arm slowly towards her shoulder, she laid her head against his chest with a great sigh. Valens stroked her head, the scent of her filling his nostrils and teasing his senses.

His body responded, hardening to her nearness; the temptation to taste her lips again was overpowering.

'I've spoken to your father about the incident at the presentation ceremony this afternoon,' he said in an attempt to draw his mind away from the way her body felt against his.

Immediately she stiffened and drew back. Her eyes flicked towards the entrance to the garden and the colour drained from her face.

'You've spoken to my father,' she said.

'Yes, I gather you already discussed the incident with him. I apologised for any embarrassment and explained about discovering your dog on stage. He seemed concerned about you and your reputation, but I explained the course of events.'

Julia felt another lump form in her throat. For that brief time, resting in Valens's arms, she'd been convinced he was about to kiss her again. How mistaken she'd been! He'd held her like a friend, not like a lover. Silently she cursed her treacherous mind and body.

She'd promised. She would not get involved with this man. Already the guilt of the small deception was eating away at her insides. But her father had said 'in public', and this garden nook was private. Julius Antonius never said anything without a reason. She pressed her fingertips together, relief building within her. He had not forbidden her to see Valens in private. If he had intended to keep them apart, he would have demanded Caesar remove Valens. She had been worried over nothing.

In her anxiety, she had managed to loosen the tight knot of hair at the back of her head. If she moved her head even an inch, her hairstyle would crash down around her shoulders. Not the impression she wanted to give Valens. She reached up and began to twist it back into a bun, taking out a hairpin.

'I've already explained to my father what happened, the truth about what happened,' she said carefully.

'He informed me before he and your stepmother left for dinner.' Valens's eye bore a distinct shine. 'He was pleased— your story matched with mine.'

Julia dropped a hairpin and she bent down searching for it. Keeping her eyes firmly trained on the ground, she said 'And why should they not match? I told the truth. The fight had nothing to do with me and everything to do with Bato and his escape plans.'