I realised, the thought flying through my mind like a swallow dipping in and out of the eaves, that this was what all the messages, the secrets, had been leading up to. This invitation to Rome had not come out of nowhere. My father had been working towards it, perhaps begging the Emperor to invite him, perhaps speaking to others who had the Emperor’s ear, just as I wheedled my mother’s maid when I wanted some little toy or jewel and my mother was doubtful. And the end of it was that we were all going to Rome.
And I was going to get married.
“His family are well-born and rich,” my mother said. “It is a good marriage for a doctor’s daughter from the provinces.”
“You forget that we are friends of the Emperor,” my father replied. “Being from the provinces is no longer a disadvantage, when the Emperor himself speaks Latin with a Leptis Magna accent.”
Married, I thought. I would be a grown woman. With a household of my own. That didn’t sound so bad. Still, I had a thousand thoughts and fears. What would it be like being married? Would I enjoy being a grown woman? And what about, well. . . having babies? What if – an even more worrying thought – I could not have babies? I knew some women could not, and it seemed to make them very sad, for they spent much time and money coming to my father and then going to different temples and even sailing to faraway places where the gods had been said to work miracles. If I could not have children, what would I do all day? Would my husband divorce me? I realised that I had gone from not thinking of Publius at all to marrying him and divorcing him in less than a minute.
“Can I go on with my studies?” I asked my father.
He patted my head. “Yes, of course. There is no need for you to marry in a rush. Take your time. See how you like each other. I expect you will like each other very much!”
“It is best for girls to marry early,” my mother said gently. “She is nearly fifteen after all.”
“The philosophers disagree,” my father replied, and my mother could say no more.
I skipped out to tell Nurse the news.
“We’re going to Rome! Rome itself!”
Nurse was bending over the basket of wool, and she didn’t look up. I was disappointed.
“Nurse! Didn’t you hear? We’re all going to Rome! You too!”
When she did look up, I searched her face for the excitement I expected her to feel. I did not find it.
“Nurse?” I said uncertainly.
“To Rome?” she said, and her voice sounded blank and empty. “Must I go to Rome?”
“Of course!” I laughed aloud. “Of course you must come to Rome with us. We would not leave you here.”
I flung my arms around her neck and hugged her. She had fed me as a baby, put me to sleep every night. She had even given me a little amulet, a spell written on papyrus and contained in a reed, which I wore tied around my wrist all the time. It was a good-luck spell from a priest of Isis, meant to keep me safe from illness. Every time I looked at it, it reminded me of how much she loved me.
“I’m going to be married,” I whispered into her ear. The amulet dug into my wrist as I hugged her. “You can come and live with me in my new house, in Rome. It’s the greatest city in the world!”
Then I ran off to give thanks to our household gods, our Lares and Penates. Their familiar shrine was in the entrance hall, and we went every day, to speak to the warm, loving spirits who watched over us. I did not look back, because I was a little bit scared that Nurse was not happy about the news, and I did not want to think about that. There was no way I was going to go to Rome, marry a stranger and live in a strange house without Nurse by my side.
5.
Childhood’s End
Livia was jealous. She pretended she was sad to lose me, but she tore my nicest dress and said it was an accident, and she took delight in giving Nurse petty, humiliating orders in front of me. I did not dare say anything to her. Her family was wealthier than ours, and she was used to being in charge, and besides she was older than me. She wanted to know about Publius, though.
“Is he handsome? Is he very old?”
I shrugged. “I think he’s about twenty. I don’t know if he is handsome.” I didn’t like talking about Publius, because there were so many things I didn’t know and couldn’t find out. Besides, my mother had become even more nervous now that we were preparing to leave. She kept me inside most of the day, sewing and weaving. It was as if she was afraid I would do something to disgrace us all before I got to Rome. “Now you are soon to be married,” she kept on saying, “things are different.”
My reading became extremely boring, and also worrying. There was no more Aeneid; instead there were endless stories about how to be a good wife and mother. I was ready to learn about how to be a perfect Roman woman, but I did wonder why so many of them had to die in the end.
“I wish I was married,” I complained to Livia. “I’d be my own mistress then.” The more I had to sit inside on days when it was sunny outside, the more I couldn’t wait to get to Rome.
“The Emperor has two sons,” said Livia thoughtfully. “You could marry one of them.”
I wrinkled my nose. “I think they’re even older than Publius.”
“So?” Livia picked up Lucia, my wooden doll, the one I hadn’t played with for
