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Claudia passed the shrines of Discordia and Invidia, on opposite sides of the road. Their statues were not enclosed by pillars, like many of the others, but standing atop their shrines, their wings outspread, primed and ready to join in on any revolution that might occur.

There were many circular shrines built to honour every deity who had participated in the Great Battle of Jupiter. On Sun-days and their festival days, they inhabited their statues and entered their shrines, meeting with their followers, receiving their offerings in person and listening to their concerns like senators.

The gods were present, and visible in the world again – for better or for worse.

In the Forum, Claudia paused to look at the statues of the new Triad: Minerva, queen of the gods, along with Diana and Venus. They stood, back to back, with their weapons drawn: Diana with her bow, Minerva with her sword, and Venus with her shield. Their trinity had been installed in the Forum in bronze, now surrounded by flowers, by scrolls, by arrows and candles and votive statues.

‘Good day, goddesses,’ said Claudia, leaving a basket of their favourite treats at their feet. ‘I hope you’re celebrating in style.’

Diana was probably on a hunt with her armoured maidens. Venus was probably enjoying a hot spa with her nymphs. Minerva was probably in her palace, measuring the threads of fate and studying the maps of the stars that made up the future, or perhaps trying to keep tabs on her wild-child little sister Bellona.

Parting company with the rest of her palace staff, Claudia and a single guard journeyed to her favourite shrine, to make offerings and pay her respects, which she did as often as she could.

As they walked, they discussed an upcoming gladiatrix match between Livia the Legendary and Salma the Superior, an Egyptian woman with an undefeated record, who Livia was now enamoured with.

The shrine was located out of the way, into the hills, where the goddess who inhabited it could look out over the panorama of Rome. It was the perfect place to watch the sun rise or set, or to see the constellations of the gods at night – when Jupiter, Mars, Pluto and the others could be seen once more, shining bright against the dark sky, forever watchful, yet bound from doing harm.

The uphill trek was part of the pilgrimage, for only the strongest and bravest would be blessed, yet the shrine was well-attended, the winding path littered with flowers and bundles of tokens, along with small figures of women gladiators.

By the time Claudia made it to the top, she was weak-kneed and perspiring, taking a moment to fix her hair in the mirror of the fountain. As she gazed into the petal-strewn waters, she thought of Darius, wondering if he and Cassius were enjoying their grand tour of world wonders. She looked forward to receiving her next message from them, which would no doubt arrive accompanied with a souvenir.

‘Would you give us a moment of privacy?’ asked Claudia, to her tall, muscular guard.

‘Of course, Empress,’ said Dido. ‘I will be waiting, when you’re ready. Take your time… and pass on my regards.’

As Dido stood on guard, Claudia ascended the temple steps as she’d done so many times before, stepping into the circular temple known as the Roma Aeterna – part of the larger Temple to Venus and Roma.

A marble statue of a goddess waited within, seated on a throne. She was armoured and wore a mural crown that represented the walls of the city. Short-haired, smiling serenely, and holding the palladium that signified infinity, she was instantly recognizable.

‘Hello, love,’ said Claudia, bending down to place a bundle of offerings at the statue’s feet. ‘Happy Romana.’

She gazed at the lifelike sculpture, so detailed that Claudia could make out her eyelashes, the wisps at her hairline, the folds of her robes, even the mole on her collarbone that Claudia had so often kissed.

‘I bring festive offerings, my goddess,’ she said, bowing. ‘I know you love it when I call you that.’

To her, she would always be Gia, or sometimes Viatrix the Victorious, but, to the rest of the populace, she was Roma: the protector goddess of the city, a mortal warrior made immortal. Now she dined on the Isles of the Blessed, with the other deities.

Claudia stood solemnly, admiring her for a moment, listening to the symphony of celebration below.

‘Are you there?’

She waited, expectantly, for a sign.

‘I was hoping to see you today,’ she said. ‘It is your festival, after all. Unless, of course, you are off doing important divinity things.’

The breeze stirred, picking up leaves and riffling her clothes.

‘Maybe you are too busy for me, now you are a goddess, and me, a mere empress,’ she said, though she was smiling.

The clouds shifted, letting the dying light of the day bleed upon the hills like golden blood. Claudia turned to watch the sun sink under the horizon, swallowed by the curves of Mother Earth.

She sensed a shift, as the veil between the world of gods and mortals thinned, that made her skin prickle and tingle.

When she looked back, the statue glistened supernaturally. It was becoming incarnate. Stone turned to flesh, as the goddess Roma manifested. Though her eyes had a strange golden hue to them and her skin was lustrous and silken, she was still Gia.

Infinite and immortal… but still her.

Claudia fell into her arms, grateful that a goddess was still solid enough to be held.