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Livia finishes writing out the instructions and tucks away her wax tablet and stylus.

“While you’re here,” Quinta says to Livia, “I was hoping to show you a few of my own garments I’d like embellished.”

Livia glances at me briefly. It’s taken years, but finally I can read Livia’s looks and sense her moods. This time, I know she wants me to finish measuring Quinta’s son, then assist her.

I give her a subtle nod as she follows her client out of the room.

Gaius stares after them as their voices grow distant. Once they’re out of earshot, his attention moves to me.

I take a final measurement from his hips to the tops of his knees, then to his heels, knotting the bit of yarn I’m using to mark the length.

“You look pretty on your knees like that,” Gaius comments.

I pause, not entirely sure the young noble is even speaking to me. Why, after all, would a senator’s son bother to talk to a tailor’s assistant? But when I glance up at Gaius’s face, he’s watching me with sharp eyes and an amused twist of his lips.

Gaius begins lifting the hem of his tunic up his legs, past his knees, and heat floods my cheeks as I finally understand. He is talking to me, and the compliment—if it can even be called that—has claws.

Fear takes root. I’ve heard enough stories of privileged men having their way with whomever they pleased.

I lower the yarn. “I think that’s all I need,” I say quickly, trying to pretend the moment out of existence.

I rise from my knees, only for Gaius’s hand to grasp my shoulder and push me back down.

“We’re not done here,” he says, and his eyes have a determined gleam in them.

Now my fear blooms into full-blown terror.

Roxi?Memnon reaches out to me, his voice full of concern. I have to ignore him just to focus on this moment.

I swallow. “There’s nothing else I need,” I insist. I feel like a fool, pretending his aggression away, but I don’t know what else to do, and I can’t think over my rising panic.

His grip on me relaxes, and I think he might let me go, but as soon as I stand, he steps into my space.

“But there’s somethingIneed,” Gaius says. The amusement is back in his expression, but everything else about him feels menacing. He keeps stepping forward, forcing me to back up. My gaze darts to the doorway, but Gaius has positioned himself between me and it, and I’m not confident I could get past him if I tried.

“Please,” I say, forcing my gaze to return to Gaius, though I don’t want to look at him. “I need to get back to help your mother.”

The nobleman doesn’t seem to care about my plea or my reluctance. His hands move to my torso, roughly pawing at my body.

Roxi, what is going on?Memnon says, his tone growing sharp.I can feel your fear…

I hardly hear Memnon. My mind is racing. I think I’m in shock.

I place my hands on Gaius’s chest, and I try to shove the man back.

“My mother can wait,” he says. “Just relax.” Gaius grabs my wrists and restrains them in one of his hands. “This is going to feel good, I swear it.”

Once my wrists are in his grip, I panic and begin to struggle in earnest, trying to pry my arms free.

“Relax,” Gaius growls out again as he shoves me against the wall. He uses his own body to pin me in place.

The young nobleman begins to feel me up again with his free hand, his fingers moving to my thigh, where he gathers the fabric of my stola.

No, no, no.

A scream is climbing up my throat, and it wants to claw its way out. I grind my teeth together to muffle it. This is a patrician household, the top of society. They can do what they want, when they want, with near immunity. No one will come to my rescue for this.

Gaius presses a clumsy, wet kiss against my cheek, and I squeeze my eyes shut, my jaw beginning to tremble, a tear leaking out.