‘What do you think, Empress? Would you like a new cloak, too?’ Marius bent his head towards Julia as they walked out of the fortress gates towards the vicus, smiling when she nodded enthusiastically.
‘Yes, please! Can I have a doll as well?’
‘Julia!’ Livia admonished her.
‘Anything you want. You’re the Empress.’
‘You shouldn’t have promised her that,’ she remonstrated with him as the little girl skipped ahead with Porcia. ‘Now she’ll choose the biggest doll she can find.’
‘Then she can have it. This is a special day, after all.’ He glanced sideways, as if to see her reaction to the statement. ‘She ought to get some kind of a present to celebrate.’
Celebrate. Livia forced a smile, the word hovering in the air as they made their way towards the market, a brightly coloured collection of shops and stalls bordering both sides of the street, stocked high with breads, meats, fish, clothes and anything else an army garrison might require. A group of boys called to Marius as they passed, inviting him to play some kind of ball game with them, but instead of looking angry at their familiarity as she might have expected, he only grinned and shook his head back.
Despite his celebratory mood, she felt a new sense of awkwardness in his company. Underneath his outward appearance she was certain he felt it, too. The atmosphere of tension between them was stronger than ever, as if they were both struggling to adjust to their new relationship. They were even walking an arm’s length apart like strangers. Whatever else his proposal had done, it hadn’t brought them any closer together. Quite the opposite, it seemed to have pushed them further apart. She still had no idea either why he’d proposed or how he felt towards her—and apparently he had no intention of talking about it.
Now, confusingly, he was talking about their wedding as a cause for celebration, but she couldn’t celebrate. Instead, she felt oppressed by the one-sidedness of it. He’d risked so much—his money, his sword, probably even his career—while she was only using him to escape Scaevola.
No, she frowned at the thought, that wasn’t true. She wasn’t using him, at least not in any calculated manner, and she couldn’t deny her physical attraction to him, but was he really a man she could spend the rest of her life with? After all, she barely knew him, not really, and she hadn’t exactly been honest with him either. Although there was still time, she reminded herself, if she wanted to risk telling him everything...
‘A wedding present, you mean?’ She pushed the thought aside.
‘In part, and because she’s been through a lot. It must have been a difficult few months for both of you.’ He looked sombrely at her. ‘I won’t try to replace her father, Livia, but I’ll do my best for her. You have my word on it.’
‘Oh...thank you.’ She swallowed the lump that arose in her throat suddenly, touched as much by the words as by the poignant idea they evoked, that of a little girl grieving for her father, no matter how far from the truth it was. Thank you sounded inadequate somehow, but then what more could she say, that Julia had hardly known her father? That he’d accused her of belonging to someone else? She could hardly tell him that without also explaining why...
She kept her gaze fixed determinedly ahead on her daughter. After a few tears that morning, Julia had adapted quickly to the idea of staying with, and no doubt being spoiled by, Hermenia for a month. That was one consolation at least and the older woman had seemed almost as excited.
‘Do you think you’ll be happy here?’ Livia had wrapped Julia up in her arms and squeezed tight.
Her daughter had made an indistinct sound and wriggled. No wonder, she’d thought, feeling foolish. It was far too big a question for a four-year-old to answer. Children lived in the present, not the future. She only wished that she could do the same, though it was too big a question even for her.
Hermenia had been kind, too, patting her hand as she’d tried to reassure her. ‘Marius isn’t the most communicative of men, but he’s a good one none the less. You’re far better off with him than Scaevola, only don’t tell Nerva I said so.’
‘Is your husband very angry?’
The other woman’s expression had spoken volumes. ‘It’s put him in an awkward position. If your brother brings a case against Scaevola, then his father will want to know what happened. My husband will have a lot of explaining to do.’
‘But can’t he simply tell him the truth? Scaevola’s a grown man. Surely Nerva can’t be held accountable for his actions?’
‘He’s a grown man who’s been raised to see himself as superior to the rest of us. His father is just an older, marginally wiser version. Trust me, whatever the truth, he’ll blame everyone else before his son. My husband in particular.’
‘And Marius?’
‘Probably.’
‘Oh.’ Her conscience had stabbed her anew. ‘Does Marius know how important his father is?’
‘He couldn’t not. Lucius makes certain that everyone does.’
‘But then I don’t understand.’ She’d put her head in her hands, stricken with guilt. ‘Why did Marius gamble on me? Why did he ask me to marry him? If it causes so much trouble, why is Nerva even permitting it?’
‘Because Marius insisted that the marriage go ahead, after he spoke to you, that is. He obviously cares for you and he won the game fair and square.’ Hermenia had smiled indulgently. ‘But I’m sure it’ll all blow over soon enough, don’t worry.’
Livia had smiled uncertainly, desperately hoping that was true. And the fact that Hermenia thought he cared for her was encouraging... In the meantime, unlikely as it seemed, she and Marius were going shopping. She needed supplies for their journey to the wall and he was going to pay for them. Yet another one-sided arrangement. As if she didn’t have enough to feel guilty about.
Her gaze fell on a fishmonger’s stall and she had a sudden burst of inspiration.
‘Perhaps I could cook dinner for us tonight?’ She spun towards him enthusiastically.