But he was avoiding Hedia for the sake of propriety. If he really does avoid her- Alphena heard the thought in her head and shied away from it. Her skin tingled as though she had rolled in hot sand.

Swallowing, she forced herself to focus on the stage again. Still more actors were marching on. Actually, they were marching and dancing: the ones who weren't dressed as soldiers danced, men and women both. If she'd been paying attention she might have known who the dancers represented, but she doubted that she'd missed anything.

The only reason Alphena was here this afternoon was that Hedia insisted that the whole family be present to support Saxa in his consulate. In her heart, Alphena knew that her stepmother was right: this was a great day for Gaius Alphenus Saxa, and his family should be with him during his public honor.

She turned to look at Hedia, opening her mouth to protest, "Father never went out of his way for me!" but that wasn't really true-and it wasn't at all fair. Alphena faced the front and crossed her hands primly in her lap, hoping her stepmother hadn't noticed the almost-outburst.

Hedia probably had noticed. Hedia did notice things.

Alphena had been amazed and appalled when she learned-from Agrippinus, major domo of the Saxa household-that her father was marrying for a third time. Marcia was his first wife and the children's mother; she had been a coolly distant noblewoman from the little Alphena remembered of her. At Marcia's death, Saxa had married her sister Secunda. That relationship ended, but the children had seen almost nothing of their father's wife before the divorce, so that made very little difference to them.

But Saxa's third wife was to be the notorious Hedia: certainly a slut, probably a poisoner, and utterly impossible. Alphena thought she had misheard Agrippinus-or else that the major domo was making a joke that would get him whipped within a hair's breadth of his life even though he was a freedman rather than a slave.