The Secret History: A Novel of Empress Theodora by Stephanie Thornton Page A

little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.”’”
    I expected Tasia to cry as the red-robed priest took her from me and gingerly undid the mostly clean blanket Antonina had wrapped her in, but she only watched him with curious eyes. Of course, she screamed as if whipped when he dunked her in the holy water and handed her to her new godmother.
    “The least they could do is warm the water,” Antonina murmured, earning the glare of the priest as both she and I struggled to wrap my daughter again. “She’s only a baby.”
    “I think they’re more concerned with her immortal soul than her earthly comfort.” I unpinned the stola Antonina had let me borrow so Tasia could nurse. She gave one last howl of protest and latched onto the nipple so hard I winced.
    The Communion bread was dry on my tongue and the wine bitter after the confession, but I felt clean again, prepared for a fresh start. We followed the other families into the light, keeping close to the stone buildings to avoid the sun on our skin. A kaleidoscope of colored silk banners fluttered on the balconies of patrician villas, a stark contrast to the dirty
mappae
and stained tunicas hung from our lone window.
    “Thank you,” I said to Antonina.
    “For what? For coming today?”
    “For that.” I kicked a rock on the path. “And for everything.”
    She glanced at me. “Don’t mention it. I kind of like this little thing.” She kissed the top of Tasia’s head. “And you’re not as bad as I thought.”
    “Thanks.”
    We walked on in silence, but then Antonina gave a sigh worthy of the stage. I ignored her, but she repeated the performance.
    “Something on your mind?”
    She flagged down a farmer’s cart pulled by a decrepit mule and bought a couple of bruised apricots, along with a bundle of ferns, fennel, and beans, presumably for our supper tonight. She brushed one of the apricots on her sleeve and handed it to me. “That perfect girl is going to end up just like us.”
    “I won’t let that happen.”
    Antonina gave a little bark of laughter. “What else will she do? Be a maid for some patrician?”
    I bit into the apricot and slurped the juice to keep it from spilling down my chin. “Perhaps.”
    “Then she’ll whore for the master.”
    “No,” I said. “She won’t.”
    “Then you need to do something.”
    “Oh really? And I suppose you’re going to tell me exactly what that is.”
    She bit into her apricot and rolled her eyes. “I don’t know—how about make more money? You can’t live with me forever.” I opened my mouth to tell her we’d leave tonight, but she frowned and shook her head. “That’s not what I mean. You can stay as long as you like. You’re like a canker I’ve grown accustomed to.”
    “Thanks.”
    “The point is, you’ve got to get her out of here.” Antonina stroked Tasia’s little fingers. “I don’t want to see this little thing on the boards one day.”
    Tasia finished on one breast, so I moved her to the other, inhaling the baby smell I adored so much. My little piglet gave a contented sigh and closed her eyes.
    I knew what I needed, much as I didn’t want to admit to soundinglike my sister or every other
pornai
in the Empire. Love was a luxury I could ill afford, but I needed a bronze wedding belt around my waist. A rich patron was the only way to pluck myself from the gutters, but only if I could convince him to marry me so I could protect my daughter.
    We passed through the crumbling walls Constantine had built hundreds of years ago, no longer needed as the city spilled from its gates and Theodosius surrounded the new city with thicker, taller walls. Constantinople’s fifth hill was directly before us, and somewhere carved into its slopes was one of the city’s smaller theaters. I might as well get on with my life today.
    Tasia nestled against my chest, her mouth open and cheeks pink with sleep. I could smell my milk on her breath.