Empress of the Seven Hills by Kate Quinn Read Free Book Online

hesitated. “Vibia Sabina?”
    “Yes, I’ve chosen her. You object?”
    Hadrian moved his shoulders restlessly, pacing to the end of her study. Plotina looked up from her writing tablet, reveling in the sight of him: so tall and sturdy, the picture of Roman rectitude in his spotless toga, his head handsome in the wash of spring sunshine from the window. The gods had not seen fit to grant her children, but they had granted her Publius Aelius Hadrian: her husband’s ward from the age of ten, and when first she laid eyes on him she had seen his potential. Trajan had had little time to act the guardian, so his care had been hers.
Her
Publius.
    “We agreed it was time you married,” she pointed out as he continued to pace. “Right in this room we agreed it.” A fine sunny morning; Hadrian always came to call on her before midday if his duties permitted, and she had lost no time in dismissing the slaves from her cozy study and informing him she had at last found him a bride. “It’s hightime you took a wife,” Plotina continued, “and you asked me to find you a suitable candidate.”
    “Not Vibia Sabina. I don’t like the girl.”
    “Why not? She’s quiet, well mannered, decently bred. She has a fine dowry and even finer connections.”
    “Her mother was the greatest whore since Messalina!”
    “And her father has one of the most respected voices in the Senate house. His support would carry your career far.” Plotina smiled. “I do so want to see you consul someday, Dear Publius. By thirty if I can manage it, and I expect I can.”
    “Not with a wife like that. She may look quiet, but she has a taste for low company. I saw her at the races, rubbing elbows with plebs.”
    “Once you’re married, she’ll have to keep the company
you
choose,” Plotina pointed out. “Surely you can rein in one errant little wife?”
    “She’s very young,” Hadrian complained. “I don’t like little girls.”
    “I wish she were younger,” Plotina sighed. A ripe biddable little thing of fourteen who would do as she was told—the ideal daughter-in-law. “Sabina’s father should have arranged her marriage three or four years ago instead of letting her loll about the house reading Homer. Still, if he had then she would not be available for you. The gods arrange these things for a reason.” They generally arranged things to suit Plotina, she found. And what they did not arrange, she could contrive for herself.
    “I don’t think the girl is as biddable as you say,” Hadrian was saying. “She says all the right things, but I can feel her laughing at me.”
    “Nonsense; who would ever laugh at you?” Plotina looked back to her wax tablet. “Just leave her to me; I will train her up to satisfaction after your marriage. Hand me that stylus?”
    “Checking the household accounts again?” Hadrian shook his head, amused. “An army of stewards at your beck and call, and the Empress of Rome still does her own figures.”
    “My last steward tried to cheat me. I had to make an example and have his hands chopped off.” Plotina scraped the tablet clean and made a fresh heading. “Besides, I have always kept my own householdaccounts. I see no reason to change simply because my household is larger. You will recall, Dear Publius, that when I entered the palace for the first time—”
    “Yes, yes, you declared you would leave the palace the same woman as you entered it.” Hadrian’s eyes crinkled. “You’ve told me that a hundred times.”
    “I hope I’ve done more than quote it at you.”
    “Certainly, my lady.” He bent and kissed the top of her head. “You have not changed in the slightest.”
    “You have, and not entirely for the better.” Plotina patted his furred cheek. “I don’t like that beard.”
    “And I don’t like your choice of bride.” The scowl returned, and he flung himself into the chair opposite her. “Why Vibia Sabina?”
    “You require a wife of breeding and connections, with the poise