Page 18 of The Tribune Temptation (Roman Heirs #1)

C rispina spent the walk home thinking up a plausible story. She would have to lie to Gaia too, which pained her. At least Gaia was undoubtedly kind-hearted enough to take the boy in, and hopefully she could convince Aelius if he balked.

She drew Max to a halt in a side street a block from home. She handed him the basket. “Hold this a moment.” She unpinned the linen covering from her hair and removed the long shapeless tunic that covered her usual dress. She folded the garments and stowed them in the basket.

Max watched her. “You ain’t a real priestess?”

“Aren’t,” she corrected. “And no. It’s…a disguise.” She hesitated. How best to make sure the boy didn’t give her away?

She crouched down so her face was at his level. “You must promise not to say anything about my lessons, do you understand? It’s a secret. If my husband finds out, you’ll end up back on the streets.” And possibly me with you . “And there will be no more cakes.”

He nodded slowly.

“Do you swear?”

He made a fist and pressed it to his chest. “On all the cakes in the world,” he said solemnly.

She bit back a smile. “Very well, then. Let’s go.”

They crossed the short distance to the house. Crispina dropped Max’s hand once they crossed the threshold. Ajax let them in and raised his eyebrows at Max, but said nothing. Crispina handed her basket to him. “Put this in my library, please.”

Ajax nodded and disappeared.

“This way,” Crispina said to Max, beckoning him into the atrium. He craned his head up, gawking at the columns that surrounded the pool.

Gaia sat on a bench on the other side of the space, taking advantage of the late afternoon sunlight to work on some mending. She set it aside and rose to her feet when Crispina entered, her face brightening in her customary smile.

Her smile faltered when her gaze landed on Max. “We have a guest, I see?” She came around the pool toward them.

Crispina took a deep breath, summoning the story she had concocted. “This is Max. I ran across him at the market. He’s been abandoned by his family, and I couldn’t leave him there. I was hoping he could stay with us for a while. Until we sort things out.” At least most of that was true.

Max cast her a critical glance, but kept silent as promised.

Gaia gave Max a warm smile. “Hello, Max. What an interesting name.”

He stared up at her, mouth falling open. It seemed Gaia’s beauty could entrance a male of any age.

Crispina nudged him. “Don’t be rude. Say hello.”

He mumbled something that might have been a greeting.

Crispina turned back to Gaia. “Aelius isn’t home?”

Gaia shook her head. “He’ll be back for dinner.”

“Do you think he’ll…” She didn’t want to raise the possibility that Aelius might not let Max stay, not when the boy could hear it.

Gaia seemed to understand. “He may take some convincing, which I trust you can manage. In the meantime, I believe someone could use a bath.” She raised an eyebrow at Max’s dirty face and threadbare clothes. “Come along, young man.” She held out a hand. Max latched onto it and trotted after her toward one of the spare bedrooms.

Crispina followed. She felt a small flare of relief. If Gaia liked the boy, Aelius would be hard-pressed to throw him out. She knew Aelius valued his mother’s opinion over nearly everything else, and she hoped it would be enough in this case.

Getting Max into the tub took both wrestling and cajoling, but once he felt the warmth of the water, he suffered Crispina and Gaia to scrub him clean. His skinny body was peppered with scrapes and bruises. He must have gotten into some scuffles while living on the streets. His back bore different marks, faded and thin, as if inflicted by a switch or strap. Crispina drew in a breath. No wonder he wasn’t eager to go home. By the tightness of Gaia’s lips, Crispina knew she had noticed the marks too, but she said nothing.

After the bath, they dried Max and dressed him in one of Aelius’s tunics. Even the short tunic reached to the boy’s ankles, and the neckline kept slipping off his shoulders. Crispina made a mental note to send someone to Horatia’s later to see if she had any spare child-sized tunics to lend.

Crispina surveyed Max uncertainly as he munched on a plate of figs and grapes on a bench in the atrium, a bribe for the successful completion of the bath. She glanced at Gaia, who was drying her arms. “What exactly does one do with a child?” She knew they had to be kept busy somehow, but she was utterly at a loss for how to pass the time until dinner.

Gaia set aside the towel. “Boys this age are full of energy. They need ways to expend it.” She beckoned to Max, who had finished his fruit. “Max, I want you to see how many times you can run around the atrium. I’ll give you a honeyed date for each lap you complete. Agreed?”

He nodded and took off, sprinting down the side of the atrium. Crispina watched him, a smile growing. His energy, despite the rough few days he must have had, was infectious.

“Was Aelius like this at his age?”

Gaia’s eyes tracked Max as he rounded the corner and ran down the other side of the room. “He was mischievous, yes, always getting into trouble. Little things, like stealing snacks from the kitchen or dousing another child in the atrium pool. He was smart enough to avoid getting in serious trouble. He knew there was always a chance we could be separated.” Gaia spoke of her past calmly, with no shame or anger.

Crispina’s stomach tightened. “I’m sorry for all you’ve suffered.”

Gaia cast her a glance. “Everyone has their own suffering. Even someone like you, born into privilege and luxury. You have known hardship and pain, if I’m not mistaken.”

Gaia was being too generous in comparing her past to Crispina’s. Crispina said nothing, watching Max complete another lap. His pace was flagging, and when he reached the spot where they stood, he stumbled to a halt and threw himself to the ground, lying on his back and breathing hard. “Three,” he gasped. “You owe me three dates.”

Gaia smiled. “Well done. You’ll have them at dinner.”

A noise sounded from the entrance: the front door opening. Crispina flinched. Aelius was home. She cast Gaia a panicked glance, but Gaia looked as calm as ever.

Aelius entered the atrium. “Good evening—” His words broke off when he saw Max, lying on the flagstones.

The boy scrambled to his feet and fixed Aelius with a wary glare.

Aelius glanced from Max to Crispina to Gaia. “Why is there a strange child in my house?”

Crispina stepped forward. “I, er…” Her tongue was tied in knots. Lying to his face was harder than she imagined. She decided to skip the lie. “His name is Max. Or at least, that’s what we’ve agreed to call him. He has nowhere to go. I thought perhaps we could take him in for a while.”

Aelius frowned. “Is he some relation of yours?”

Crispina shook her head. “No. I, er, I encountered him in the city today. He was lost, abandoned. Hungry. I brought him home. I didn’t know what else to do.” She let out a breath. None of her words were technically false.

His frown deepened, his face acquiring a look of stern bewilderment. “So you brought a street rat into our house?”

Gaia cleared her throat. “There’s no need for rudeness.” She nudged Max on the shoulder. “Why don’t you take another lap around the room?”

Max huffed and broke into a jog.

Aelius’s expression hadn’t lightened. “There are thousands of hungry, homeless children in Rome. Please tell me you have a better reason for bringing this one home.”

“It was the right thing to do.” Crispina met his gaze, refusing to quail before him though she knew she had overstepped. As master of the house, he had ultimate authority over everyone and everything under this roof. Now, tall and glowering, he looked every inch the threatening paterfamilias. But she would make him see that she was right.

Aelius turned to his mother. “And you are in favor of this?”

Gaia opened her mouth to reply, but at that moment Max rounded the corner nearest to them. He overshot the turn and careened into a pedestal holding a painted vase on the edge of the room. The pedestal rocked. The vase toppled.

Crispina leaped toward it, but too late. With a deafening crash, the vase shattered on the stone floor.

Max leaped back. “Juno’s cunt!”

“Max!” Crispina’s voice rose to a shriek. Such language was appalling, even more so coming from a child. “That language will not be tolerated!”

“Now look what he’s done!” Aelius exploded.

Max hid behind Gaia, who had blanched at his exclamation but allowed him to use her as a shield.

“It’s just a vase, Aelius,” Crispina said.

“It was an antique,” Aelius snapped. “An expensive antique, inherited from my stepfather.”

Crispina pressed her lips together. Aelius had never shown any particular interest in art objects before. He was seizing on this to stoke the flames of his displeasure.

“Clearly, we need to talk. In private.” Aelius strode toward his study.

Crispina cast a helpless glance at Gaia before hurrying to follow him.

Once in his study, he pulled the door shut hard behind her. Crispina took a deep breath. “I know this is all rather a surprise. Believe me, I did not expect to be returning with a child today, but—"

“Then why did you?” Aelius demanded.

“I told you, I couldn’t leave him. He needed help. I tried to find his family, but I couldn’t, and even if I did, he said they forced him to leave. And I don’t think it was a happy home.” She stared at him. Here was the face, the body she’d gotten to know so well by now. She knew the freckles on his chest, the spot on his neck that made him shudder when she kissed it. She knew what his face looked like when he was lost in ecstasy.

Now, that face was stern, frowning, displeased. He folded his arms in front of him. Lamplight glinted off his silver armband. “I did not realize you were desperate enough for a child that you would snatch one off the streets.”

Crispina’s teeth ground together. His words stabbed at the tender part of her heart that was starting to belong to him, but she summoned a facade of coldness to dull the pain. “I did not realize you were selfish enough to deny shelter to a helpless child.”

“I haven’t denied anything. I suppose the boy can help in the kitchens or run errands. As I did at his age.”

“If he stays, he will be treated as a guest.” Crispina took a step closer, fists clenching at her sides. “I know you suffered greatly as a child, but you never had to worry about going hungry or sleeping outside.”

Aelius’s face looked like it had been iced over. “Don’t compare that child to me. I lived every day fearing I’d be separated from my mother.”

“At least you have a mother who loves you. Max has no one. I thought you cared about those who are vulnerable and powerless. You seek to represent the people as tribune. Now is your chance to care for one of them.”

“That child is a freeborn Roman citizen,” Aelius hissed. “No matter his disadvantages, he has something I will never have, no matter how high I rise.” His hand went to his silver armband, fingers wrapping around it. “If word gets out that I’ve taken a foul-mouthed, unkempt brat into my house, it will draw attention. And that kind of attention is the last thing I need. The patricians I’ll need to court don’t want to support a candidate who fills his house with grubby children. It’s just not done, Crispina.”

“Is the welfare of a child not worth risking your political success?”

“Nothing is worth that.”

Crispina folded her arms across her chest and fixed him with her steeliest glare. “Are you going to throw him out, then?”

Aelius glowered at the floor, a muscle in his jaw pulsing.

“Think very carefully,” Crispina murmured. “If he goes, I go.”

Aelius’s head snapped up. They shared a long gaze. Then, he pushed past her, flung open the door, and thrust himself through it. He called for his cloak. A moment later, the front door opened and closed.

Crispina let out a long breath. At least he hadn’t insisted Max leave.

She left the study and returned to where Gaia and Max waited in the atrium. She cast Gaia a rueful look. “Aelius left.” A humiliating thing to admit to her mother-in-law.

Gaia nodded calmly. “We heard. He will return.”

Max looked up at her, his brow creased and his jaw set. A hint of apprehension darkened his gaze. He must have heard enough to understand Aelius didn’t want him here.

Crispina summoned a smile and held out a hand to him. “Dinner should be ready by now. And I believe we owe you some honeyed dates?”

“You ain’t throwing me out, then?”

“Aren’t. And no.” At least, not tonight. “Are you hungry?”

He nodded eagerly and grasped her hand.