seriously?”
“Certainly not! Father doesn’t want to be emperor any more than this little horse does. I think it would kill him!” She spoke lightly but immediately bit her lower lip.
“You understand that you are here so that no one can force your father to change his mind?”
“I don’t know why we couldn’t stay in apartments at the Daphne Palace. Wouldn’t we be safer there? We weren’t spying on the emperor.”
“Did anyone say he suspected you?”
Julianna looked down at the stone horse. When she spoke it was to change the subject. “At least at the Daphne I had some friends to talk to. Do you suppose Justinian would mind if Antonina visited me?”
“You know Antonina?”
“Oh yes. Very well.”
“She’s hardly your age. She’s a friend of Theodora, isn’t she? And older than the empress.”
Julianna looked back at John. “Antonina and I have a lot in common. She’s as fond of horses as I am. Her father was a charioteer. She’s taught me a lot.” She scowled. “You’re just like father. You think I’m a child.”
“We had better get out of the garden,” John said. “It’s getting cold.” The truth was he needed to think of Julianna as a child because when he didn’t she reminded him too much of the past. “I’ll ask Justinian if Antonina can visit,” he added.
Julianna followed him back into the dining room. He pulled the screen shut against the rising wind.
“Thank you,” Julianna said. She brushed a burr off the front of her tunic. “And please accept my thanks for your hospitality toward my family.”
Chapter Thirteen
Felix began to lose his nerve when he reached the top of the low marble tiers encircling the terrace outside the Hall of the Nineteen Couches. He stopped and took a deep breath. Why would a woman like Antonina invite him here?
Because she was the same sort of woman as her friend Theodora? A woman who shared the empress’ malicious and often sanguinary sense of humor?
It was time for the assignation. The last pale rose of sunset had darkened to imperial purple and then black over the wall of the Hippodrome. All around the dark, blocky masses of palace buildings loomed up toward the starry sky. They reminded him of long ago scouting expeditions amongst the crags of the Isaurian mountains. More exhilarating than guarding the emperor and probably less dangerous.
Felix was not in the habit of turning down invitations from attractive women. Besides, he argued to himself, it might be dangerous to refuse the whim of a powerful patrician.
He exhaled and started down the tiers. The tramp of his newly cleaned boots echoed loudly.
In the dimness, the Hall of the Nineteen Couches was a long, black escarpment. The limited portion of the palace grounds Felix could see was mostly dark. A torch flared beneath a colonnade. There was a light behind the latticed window of the Octagon atop the Daphne. Another light shone from a window at the far end of the hall.
Was Antonina waiting there? Or someone else?
He crossed the terrace. At first he thought the covered passageway leading into the hall had been left unguarded. A soldier stepped out into his path.
He drew his sword. Then realized it was only the statue of a former emperor, emerging from the shadows as his eyes accustomed themselves to the gloom.
The interior of the hall felt colder than the gardens outside. The curtains separating the reception area from the dining space were open, allowing him to look down the entire length of the building. He might have been in a high, narrow subterranean chamber. A gargantuan mithraeum. He could barely make out the shadowy shape of the imperial table in the center. Other tables sat near the walls, each surrounded by couches where diners could recline in the ancient Roman manner seldom followed these days.
The only illumination came from several candles on a table in the far corner of the hall. Felix walked warily toward the trembling lights, keeping to the middle of the
“Certainly not! Father doesn’t want to be emperor any more than this little horse does. I think it would kill him!” She spoke lightly but immediately bit her lower lip.
“You understand that you are here so that no one can force your father to change his mind?”
“I don’t know why we couldn’t stay in apartments at the Daphne Palace. Wouldn’t we be safer there? We weren’t spying on the emperor.”
“Did anyone say he suspected you?”
Julianna looked down at the stone horse. When she spoke it was to change the subject. “At least at the Daphne I had some friends to talk to. Do you suppose Justinian would mind if Antonina visited me?”
“You know Antonina?”
“Oh yes. Very well.”
“She’s hardly your age. She’s a friend of Theodora, isn’t she? And older than the empress.”
Julianna looked back at John. “Antonina and I have a lot in common. She’s as fond of horses as I am. Her father was a charioteer. She’s taught me a lot.” She scowled. “You’re just like father. You think I’m a child.”
“We had better get out of the garden,” John said. “It’s getting cold.” The truth was he needed to think of Julianna as a child because when he didn’t she reminded him too much of the past. “I’ll ask Justinian if Antonina can visit,” he added.
Julianna followed him back into the dining room. He pulled the screen shut against the rising wind.
“Thank you,” Julianna said. She brushed a burr off the front of her tunic. “And please accept my thanks for your hospitality toward my family.”
Chapter Thirteen
Felix began to lose his nerve when he reached the top of the low marble tiers encircling the terrace outside the Hall of the Nineteen Couches. He stopped and took a deep breath. Why would a woman like Antonina invite him here?
Because she was the same sort of woman as her friend Theodora? A woman who shared the empress’ malicious and often sanguinary sense of humor?
It was time for the assignation. The last pale rose of sunset had darkened to imperial purple and then black over the wall of the Hippodrome. All around the dark, blocky masses of palace buildings loomed up toward the starry sky. They reminded him of long ago scouting expeditions amongst the crags of the Isaurian mountains. More exhilarating than guarding the emperor and probably less dangerous.
Felix was not in the habit of turning down invitations from attractive women. Besides, he argued to himself, it might be dangerous to refuse the whim of a powerful patrician.
He exhaled and started down the tiers. The tramp of his newly cleaned boots echoed loudly.
In the dimness, the Hall of the Nineteen Couches was a long, black escarpment. The limited portion of the palace grounds Felix could see was mostly dark. A torch flared beneath a colonnade. There was a light behind the latticed window of the Octagon atop the Daphne. Another light shone from a window at the far end of the hall.
Was Antonina waiting there? Or someone else?
He crossed the terrace. At first he thought the covered passageway leading into the hall had been left unguarded. A soldier stepped out into his path.
He drew his sword. Then realized it was only the statue of a former emperor, emerging from the shadows as his eyes accustomed themselves to the gloom.
The interior of the hall felt colder than the gardens outside. The curtains separating the reception area from the dining space were open, allowing him to look down the entire length of the building. He might have been in a high, narrow subterranean chamber. A gargantuan mithraeum. He could barely make out the shadowy shape of the imperial table in the center. Other tables sat near the walls, each surrounded by couches where diners could recline in the ancient Roman manner seldom followed these days.
The only illumination came from several candles on a table in the far corner of the hall. Felix walked warily toward the trembling lights, keeping to the middle of the
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