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“We shouldn’t insult them,” Cassius says from the pool. “Come, join me. There’s enough room for the two of you.” The Pinks rise to obey.

“Like the Brothers Rath, are we now?” I ask.

He sighs. And motions for the Pinks to leave. They do. My eyes follow Aurae out the door. I ponder her relief. When they’ve left, Cassius casually taps his ear to show that we’re no doubt being listened to. Of course I know that. Does he forget where I grew up? “I think we deserve a little fun, Castor. Water torture, enduring that family squabbling, the beatings…” He laughs. “Besides, they’re slaves, and you’re not their savior. Romantic as you find the notion to be.”

“You know, not everything you say to me has to be a lesson,” I say.

“If you didn’t need them, I wouldn’t teach them. Anyway, looks like Pytha owes me fifty credits.” He sighs contentedly to himself and leans his broad shoulders back in the bath.

“What for?” I ask, unable to not take the bait.

“Friendly wager. She couldn’t possibly believe you were still a virgin.”

“What?”

“A virgin. It’s when a man or woman has not…”

“I hardly think that’s any of your concern. I’m not, as it is.”

He closes his eyes against the steam. “Then why turn them away? You sure it’s not because you’re afraid she’s watching?”

“Of course not,” I say sharply. Is Seraphina watching?

He chuckles. “See? Pent-up sexual aggression.”

“Just because I believe

in actual romance instead of plundering the virtue from merchants’ daughters and buggering everything that moves like a gorydamn Gaul does not mean that I should be shamed.”

“?‘Like a gorydamn Gaul?’ My goodman, you curse like you’re ninety.”

“And you’re a hypocritical fornicator.”

“Gods, you really haven’t been laid, brother.”

“Will you stop talking.” I throw one of the strigils at him. He ducks into the water before pulling himself out to join me on the tile bench. He nudges me with his shoulder after a spell to lighten the mood—difficult considering we both know they’re analyzing us now, attempting to peel back our story to see if we are spies. Neither one of us is convinced the brotherly spat is just for show, though that might be our excuse.

“Seraphina told me Pytha was alive,” I say, trying to change the subject.

“My guards said the same to me. But don’t get too comfortable. We’re not guests here. When when the coup is over, our heads will likely roll.”

“You don’t think it will succeed?”

“Tell me you didn’t see the doubt in the daughter.”

I nod. “I didn’t think that was the reason for it.”

He laughs. “Don’t be so easily impressed by a rogue century of Peerless. Dido’s sharp, but she’s Venusian. The Rim won’t forget that. The minor Lords of Io will be coming from all over the moon, loyal to Romulus. And if they don’t finish her off, the Lords of Europa and Ganymede, likely even Callisto, will do it. Not to mention the Far Rim. They like their Romulus out there.”

“And what about their evidence?”

“Did you see her bring anything back?”

“No.”

“Well then, either she hid it well, or it was a bluff.”

I know without him saying it that he blames me for our current predicament, but it was his decision to investigate the Vindabona. His decision to take away everything I had as a boy and then act like he was my savior.