“But what happened to the crocodiles? Have they all been killed?”
“There have never been crocodiles,” Octavia replied, putting down her spindle. “There are only fish. And all of them are harmless.”
I wondered what it would be like to swim in a river, and as we watched Marcellus and Alexander strip down to their loincloths, I asked Octavia, “Will we be swimming, too?”
“What? In a loincloth?” Livia exclaimed.
“And a breastband,” I offered, but Vipsania giggled.
“Perhaps you would like to parade naked as well!” Livia added.
“She almost did,” Octavia remarked pointedly, reminding her of the Triumph and the beaded dress that Livia had chosen for me.
Livia sat forward and fixed me in her gaze. “My father committed suicide because of your father. And now your father has killed himself because of my husband. It’s a strange little world, isn’t it, Selene? And I imagine that when your mother came to Rome, she thought it would be only a matter of time before she stood in the Senate and declared herself queen. But Romans don’t accept women who paint their faces, or dress themselves in beads, or swim in rivers. And they won’t accept a little whore from Alexandria who thinks she can come here and take her mother’s place. I know what you want.” She laughed bitterly. “You think my husband is going to send you back to Egypt, but the Greeks will be settling their debts on the Kalends before that ever happens!” In Rome, the Kalends was the first day of every month, but the Greeks had no such day.
When Livia sat back, Octavia smiled. “Charming as always, Livia. And every afternoon a sweet reminder of why my brother chose you for his wife.”
I risked a glance at Julia, but her eyes were fixed on the wooden loom in front of her, and for the next hour we worked in silence while the men enjoyed themselves in the river. As the heat rose and it became unbearable even in the shade, no one moved. Octavia wiped the sweat from her brow with a small square of white linen. Julia’s hair had gone limp in the heat. I thought of my brother pushing through the cool waters of the Tiber and felt a mounting anger. My mother had always given the two of us the same opportunities. If Alexander was allowed to swim, then so was I. If he had lessons in the Museion, I went with him. Nothing had ever been forbidden to me simply because I was a girl.
When the men returned, my brother had the good sense not to look too pleased. Instead, he saw me suffering in the heat and asked uneasily, “So how was the drawing?”
“Hot,” I said curtly in Parthian. “And your swim?”
“It was all right.”
I glowered at him. “I’ll bet it was better than sitting here with the Gorgon.”
“I’m sorry.” He hesitated. “I won’t go next time—”
“That’s not what I want,” I said petulantly.
He looked at Livia. “She really is a monster, isn’t she?”
“Can you imagine if we were living with her?”
My brother shivered. “Come.” He held out his hand. “Gallia’s taking us to the Circus Maximus.”
“And will I have to stand outside and watch through the arches?”
My brother chuckled. “Marcellus says anyone can go.”
“I guess women’s money is just as good as men’s.”
Julia watched us, trying to follow our conversation, and when my brother went inside the stables to change, she asked me, “How many languages can you speak?”
“Four. Plus a little Hebrew.”
“But how did you learn them?”
“I was raised with them. Like you were raised with Latin.”
“And did you study them in school?”
“Six days a week.”
Julia was thoughtful. Then she said quietly, “Sometimes, I wonder how it would be if your father’s ships had won at Actium.”
“He probably would have had you killed,” I said honestly.
“Or perhaps I would have come to Alexandria and studied in the Museion with you.”
When the men returned from the changing rooms, Octavia instructed Gallia to bring us home well before the sun set. “I want them in the villa in time to have a rest and take a bath. And don’t let Marcellus spend every last denarius, even if he’s being charitable to his guards.”
“Are you coming?” Marcellus asked Tiberius.
“To the Circus? No, thank you.”
“What?” Marcellus laughed. “You have something better to do?”
“Drusus and I are studying with Agrippa.”
“More Sallust?” I questioned.
“We finished Sallust two years ago. We’re studying Rome’s greatest generals now. My brother knows the entire history of Catiline from his career with Pompey to his revolt against the Republic.”
“So why doesn’t he study with us in the ludus?” I asked.
“He’s only nine. But even he knows that watching horses run around in a circle is a waste of time.”
As we started to walk, Julia demanded, “Why do you invite him when he’s so nasty?”
“I feel sorry for him,” Marcellus admitted.
“Well, you shouldn’t,” she said. “He’s just like his mother.”
“Only because she bullies him.”
“So what?” she exclaimed as Gallia led the way. “He allows it!”
“And what other choice does he have?”
“He can be silent.”
Marcellus made a face. “Tiberius will never be silent. His dying breath will be a complaint.”
“But why does Livia stand for it?” my brother asked. “She doesn’t stand for anything else.”
Julia and Marcellus exchanged meaningful looks.
“Because he’s her greatest hope,” Marcellus said. “She wants to see Tiberius as ruler of Rome. Even though he’d rather join the army and go off fighting the Gauls.”
“But
“For now. But what if something should happen to me? What if I’m wounded in battle, or I fall from my horse—”
“What?”
“From your lips to Juno’s ear,” she reminded him. “You shouldn’t say such things.”
“Why?” He laughed dismissively. “Do you think the gods really care what we say?”
“My father says so.”
“Because that’s what he wants the plebs to think. A religious people is a people with purpose. So if the grain fails, or the aqueducts turn muddy, it can be Jupiter’s fault, not his.”
Julia hesitated. “I could believe it. Everything with my father is a show. And that’s why he’ll make you his heir, and not Tiberius. You’re willing to act.”
“You mean I’m willing to be his puppet.” When he saw that Julia was going to protest, he smiled. “I don’t mind. But it’s Alexander and Selene who need to be careful.”
We followed the Tiber past the Forum Boarium, a cattle market whose stench must have reached up to Elysium itself. Julia took a small wooden ball from her bag, pressing it to her nose and inhaling. “Here,” she said to me.
I inhaled. “What is this?”
“An amber ball. All the women use them.”
I inhaled deeply, then held my breath so that the earthy scent from inside the ball would stay with me for as long as possible. But eventually, when I had to breathe again, I coughed.
“It’s terrible, isn’t it?” Marcellus asked. “If I were Caesar, I’d move the Forum Boarium to the other side of the Tiber.”
“Is it always this crowded?” Alexander complained.
