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

to host your colleagues and rivals as you climb the ladder.”
    “You have always done that for me,” he observed.
    “And will continue to do so.” Plotina began copying a list of figures out on her slate. “But a wife will give you sons, and a man should have sons.”
    “Trajan—”
    “Is also very fond of Sabina,” Plotina interrupted smoothly. “You will rise in his favor as well, marrying her.”
    “I should already have his favor,” Hadrian grumbled.
    Plotina felt a pang. “You should take more interest in Dear Publius,” she had told her husband many times. “He’s your ward. He should be like a son to you.”
    “Well, he isn’t.” Trajan had been short with her, very short. “I’ve done my duty by him, haven’t I? Cold moody little bugger he was as a boy, and he’s a cold moody bugger now. Enough is enough.”
    No
, Plotina thought,
it’s not nearly enough
. But she knew when to drop the matter for later. Trajan could be so stubborn.
    “Marry little Sabina,” she said, “and you’ll get on better with my husband. He’s even a distant great-uncle to her on her father’s side—themarriage will make you family, not just a ward. The Emperor will see you more frequently, get to appreciate you better. You’ll see.”
    “It’ll take more than a marriage to make the Emperor like me.”
    If you’d kept your hands off that dancer Trajan liked so much, you’d stand better with him today
, Plotina thought. What a debacle that had been! Trajan had been very cross about having his pet poached from under his nose, and in the end Plotina had had to pack that smooth-cheeked little whore off to a brothel in Ostia, just to keep the peace in her household. All young men had wild oats to sow, but couldn’t they be more careful about where they scattered the seeds? It was a thought Plotina kept to herself. There were things young men fondly thought their mothers did not know. Mothers always
did
know, of course, but if they were wise they kept their own counsel. And who was wiser than Plotina, who was not just the mother Dear Publius should have had, but the Mother of Rome?
    “This marriage will be a start in the right direction,” she said instead. “Trajan likes Sabina, and if you marry her he’ll like you. So why don’t you go pay a visit on the Norbanus household this afternoon?”
    “I suppose I could speak to her father.” Grudgingly. “Advance my prospects.”
    “I’m afraid you’ll have to address yourself to Sabina as well, my dear. Her father is letting her have some choice in her marriage.” Plotina exhaled. “What is this world coming to? He always was far too lenient a father.”
    “I’ll take a firmer line with his grandsons, then.” Hadrian rose, kissing her hand. “You win, my lady. Senator Norbanus’s daughter it is.”
    “Shave off that beard?” Plotina begged. “I’m sure no girl wishes to marry a hedge.”
    SABINA
    “It’s perfect.” Sabina looked down at the little figure in marble. “Uncle Paris, I don’t know how you do it.”
    He took her thanks serenely, hardly bothering to look up from the new block of marble now occupying his worktable. Sabina wandered the studio, used to his silences. Long windows letting in a flood of pale gold morning sunshine, scraps of marble and stone dust everywhere—and shelves, rank on rank of shelves crammed full of marble pieces. A bust of Emperor Trajan, looking vigorous… a half-finished study of a nymph, exquisite arms and shoulders rising from a rough chunk of stone… a granite Hercules with his lion skin and club… Uncle Paris might be old now, his hair gone white and his eyes cloudy, but his hands with their chisel and mallet were clearly as steady as ever. He must have been quite a scandal when he was young—Sabina could well imagine the whispers.
A boy of good family sculpting marble like a common artisan? My dear, the shame of it!
But the family had gotten used to him by now, and left him alone with his marble