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“ I have good news and bad news,” Dihya announced as Lucretia entered the office in the morning. “Well, mediocre news, not bad.”

“Oh?” Lucretia slipped off the light cloak she wore to protect her dress from the dust and dirt on the streets, and hung it on a hook. “Mediocre news first, I think.”

Dihya passed her a wax tablet. “A message from Publius Calpurnius Lentulus. He writes that Felix paid him a visit yesterday, attempting to convince him to relinquish his support of you.”

Lucretia scanned the message. She had, of course, anticipated this; it was why she’d made sure to ascertain Lentulus’s constancy. But the proof of Felix’s audacity made her teeth clench.

Even though he hadn’t been successful, this still required retaliation. She’d have to consider her next move. He couldn’t be allowed to get away with this unscathed.

“And the good news?” Lucretia asked.

Dihya jumped to her feet with an excited bounce. “My daughter has a suitor!”

“Oh, that’s excellent!” Dihya’s daughter, Tadla, was fifteen, and Lucretia had often listened to Dihya fret over her marriage prospects.

Dihya had feared that Tadla’s pickings would be slim, without a father to negotiate her betrothal.

Listening to Dihya’s worries made Lucretia grateful she had no daughters, as Marcus would find his own bride when the time came and not for at least a decade at that.

“Who is the lucky man?” Lucretia asked. “Do I know him?”

“You do, indeed. He’s none other than our favorite baker.”

Lucretia’s mouth dropped open. “Caeso? He’s interested in—in Tadla?” She would have sworn Caeso’s interest lay in the mother, not the daughter.

Dihya nodded enthusiastically. “I’ve told him all about how sweet and gentle she is.

And her skills in weaving, cooking—she’ll make him a good wife.

And she couldn’t hope to do better than Caeso.

He seems like a kind man, doesn’t he? He must make a good living from his business.

And as a baker’s wife she’ll never go hungry.

” Her smile grew. “Not bad to look at either, is he?”

“No,” Lucretia said with a chuckle. “Has he met Tadla yet?” Perhaps she had misjudged the hints of flirtation between Dihya and Caeso.

Dihya shook her head. “I’ve asked him to dinner tonight. He can meet her and see that everything I’ve told him about her is true.”

“And how does Tadla feel about this?”

Dihya waved a hand. “She’s nervous, of course—you know how shy she is. She says she doesn’t want to get married, but what girl does? Once she meets Caeso, all her fears will be soothed.”

“You’re sure his interest is, well, serious?” Lucretia pressed. “He seems like a good man, but I didn’t realize he was interested in…marrying.” I thought he was interested in you.

A trace of doubt entered Dihya’s gaze. “Do you think he’s unsuitable for her? Have you heard things about him? I mean, does he have vices I should be worried about?”

“No, no,” Lucretia demurred. “I haven’t heard anything.

He seems like a very kind, honest man.” She smiled and clasped her friend’s hand.

She must have misinterpreted the warmth between Dihya and Caeso.

All Dihya wanted was a good match for her daughter, and Lucretia was happy for them both.

“I’m sure he’ll make an excellent husband for Tadla. ”

Felix beckoned his secretary to sit in the chair before his desk.

Siro, a slender man with sharp green eyes, was Felix’s most talented and trusted employee.

A freedman, Siro had innumerable connections to other freedmen in Ostia, who made up the bulk of administrative and bureaucratic roles.

His associations had come in useful many times when Felix needed information—such as the identity of Lucretia’s main investors, most recently.

“What have you learned?” Felix asked. A few days ago, he asked Siro to make inquiries about Lucretia’s legal guardian. Siro had taken a pouch of coin to various government offices to see if he could persuade anyone to share the official records.

Siro withdrew a piece of papyrus and slid it across the desk to Felix. “A man named Manilius Cotta. I’m not sure of the relation to Lucretia, perhaps a distant cousin.”

“We will need to find out where—” Felix began.

Siro held up a hand. “I’m told he lives inland, on an estate near Spoletium.”

Siro was one step ahead as usual. Felix smiled. “How would you feel about a trip north?”

The secretary nodded briskly. “I can leave tomorrow. One thing first—no, two things.” He withdrew the pouch of coin that Felix had given him to conduct his inquiries. “Didn’t end up needing this. A bureaucrat owed me a favor.”

Felix waved the pouch away. “Keep it for your journey.” A less trustworthy man would have kept the coin without saying a word. “My mother and stepfather live in the vicinity of Spoletium. I’ll write you directions and a letter of introduction. They’ll be happy to host you for a night or two.”

Siro bowed his head. “Thank you, sir. I’d be honored to accept their hospitality.”

“What was the second thing?”

Siro secured the pouch back to his belt. “There’s a boy skulking outside. Dressed too fine to be a beggar. I tried to shoo him off, but he said he knew you.”

Felix groaned. Marcus . Well, he only had himself to blame; he had told the boy to come back. “Send him in on your way out, will you?”

Siro rose to his feet. “Of course, sir.” He dipped his head and exited the study.

Felix had only a few moments to himself before Marcus entered the office. “Hello, Marcus.”

Marcus immediately adopted a passable imitation of the boxing stance Felix had shown him. “Shove me.”

With a sigh, Felix rose from behind his desk and came over to Marcus. He exerted gentle pressure against the boy’s shoulder, and when Marcus didn’t fall over, pushed harder. Marcus wavered, but held the pose.

“Good,” Felix said.

Marcus’s eyes lit up. Felix tried to ignore the gratified feeling that sparked in his chest. “Though you should bend your knees more. It will give you more leverage.”

“So will you teach me?” Marcus asked.

Felix knew he should say no: spending time with Lucretia’s son while trying to ruin her felt rather complicated .

After all, Lucretia was his adversary. He shouldn’t even be speaking to Marcus, let alone be giving him boxing lessons.

But he had promised Marcus, and the boy had no father or brothers to teach him how to defend himself. Lucretia would never have to know.

“A few lessons,” Felix said. “Just until you can hold your own without being thrashed. Meet me at the gymnasium tomorrow when you’re done with school.”