my presence. “Oh, nothing about this. At least, not directly.” She cast a surreptitious glance at Gallus. “It will keep.”
She returned to her scrolls. Her expression became one of rapt concentration, and I left her alone.
We waited for nearly an hour by my calculation. I’d grown bored enough to lift a wine cup when the shaved-headed man returned. I set the untasted wine down, both relieved and annoyed as the man beckoned for us to follow.
Nero met us in a wide, vaulted room with windows set high under the arched roof. The cavernous darkness was broken by a line of oil lamps hanging from one wall, illuminating a beautiful chamber full of multi-colored marble.
The princeps stood in full splendor in a tunic trimmed with gold, a purple toga, and a crown of beaten gold leaves on his curled hair. His sandals were filmed with gold, and he wore golden rings and armlets as well as a gold pectoral studded with rubies.
“You are fortunate that my dining companions are tedious this night.” Nero’s eyes narrowed in displeasure. “Senators and their toadies currying favor. Stale old men. Who is this?” He pointed at Gallus, who’d bowed low.
“An architectus,” I answered quickly.
Gallus straightened his body but kept his head bowed. “I am honored to be allowed into this astonishing abode.” He risked raising his eyes to the glittering porphyry that wound through the columns that lined the room.
Nero made a dismissive gesture. “It was cobbled together by my forbears. I am building a far grander house than this.”
“Ah, yes, the Domus Transitoria.” Gallus beamed with admiration. “An architectural marvel.”
Nero softened a little. “You brought in an architectus to study my work?”
“We came to find Severus Tullius,” I said.
Nero’s brows went up. “And who is he?”
“One of your Praetorian Guards. I wish to speak to him.”
Nero continued staring at me like a basilisk. Cassia’s whisper came around me.
“It is very important, sir.”
Nero flicked his gaze to her, then he snapped his fingers.
Three servants materialized out of the darkness behind him. “Fetch a Praetorian Guard called Severus Tullius. Tell him to come alone. Be quick.”
The servants faded. Nero spoked to Cassia directly. “What is this about?”
Cassia lifted her bag and withdrew a handful of scrolls. “I have evidence here of crimes committed against a murdered freedwoman called Floriana.”
Interest flickered in Nero’s dark eyes. “Why not take this evidence to the captain of the urban cohorts?”
“Because it involves an assassination plot against you,” Cassia said, her voice unwavering. “One that involves an attempt against the life of Decimus Laelius Priscus and his household, including arranging his son to be kidnapped for a large ransom. The freedwoman was killed for knowing the plot and for a failed attempt to murder Leonidas.”
Nero listened, a twitch pulling at his lower lip. “What has this to do with one of my guards?”
Before Cassia could answer, the servants returned with Severus Tullius himself, who looked astonished to see us.
“Sir.” Tullius, in a tunic and toga, bowed then gazed in wonder at me. He glanced at Gallus and became more baffled.
Gallus, on the other hand, regarded Tullius with startled recognition. “I know you, don’t I?”
Tullius studied him more closely. “No—who are you?”
“Yes, yes—I did see you. At the house I was hired to evaluate. On the Subura. You were there when I first arrived, going through the rooms and taking things out. Very thorough, you were.”
Tullius’s jaw went slack. He clearly did not remember Gallus, had likely dismissed the man as no threat and forgot about him.
“I suggest you were there taking away things that would incriminate you,” Cassia said. “Perhaps a note sent to Floriana, or money paid to her.”
Tullius focused on Cassia, while Nero looked on, his ennui changing to fascination.
Then Tullius turned a deep shade of red. He produced a sword from the folds of his toga, and ran at Cassia, a killing rage in his eyes.
As soon as the blade flashed, guards appeared from the corners. Nero held up a hand. “No.”
I leapt after Tullius and grabbed him by his toga, using the smothering folds to throw him off balance. Cassia scrambled aside, gathering her scrolls to her, wasting a precious moment to snatch up one that had fallen to the floor.
Tullius fought free of me and again went after Cassia.
I tackled him from behind. As we struggled, Cassia skittered aside, and Gallus, finally coming out of his stupefied stance, pulled her to safety.
Tullius twisted out of my grip and spun to face me, the toga falling. Tullius