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‘You cannot validate your claims?’ said Marcellus.

‘What evidence have you provided for your claims?’ she said. ‘You have none.’

‘I am not the one who boasted of my divine right.’

‘You didn’t even mention the gods in your speech, as if they are entirely irrelevant to your ambitions,’ she said. ‘Perhaps the pantheon are strangers to you, but the plans of the goddesses are well known by me.’

Silence fell in Senate House.

A lone voice cut through the quiet. ‘If you can prove it, we shall make you empress,’ said the red-robed, bearded consul, Damocles.

The crowd rippled again, all of them attentive.

Damocles was goading her. He didn’t truly believe that she’d be able to fulfil his request. It was simply an easy way to discredit her.

They had done nothing to stop Decimus from seizing power, even when he tortured and murdered members of their own organization, but now they expected her to perform a miracle for their approval.

She couldn’t win.

‘Minerva herself could appear at my side, before your very eyes, and you would still appoint my cousin simply because he is a man,’ she said.

‘Prove to us that the goddesses work through you,’ Damocles continued, ‘and we shall confirm you. But if you can’t, we shall disqualify you and declare our support for Marcellus Suetonius.’

Claudia had walked right into a trap. Now they would use her inability to manifest a goddess to rule her out, while Marcellus would not be asked to prove any of his claims.

‘I cannot summon the goddesses on command,’ said Claudia. ‘I am their servant, not the other way around.’

‘That is the offer, Princess,’ said Damocles. ‘This is your opportunity to prove yourself. Show us why a woman should rule Rome, when none has ruled before.’

Claudia looked to Gia, who gazed back helplessly. She looked to Pliny and Rectina, who appeared to have accepted defeat. She looked to the cult of women, who became exultant under her gaze.

‘We are with you, Empress Claudia,’ said the leader.

‘We believe in you, Empress.’

She looked ahead to the Altar of Victory, and to the winged goddess who watched over them.

Claudia had never prayed to the ocean deity Salacia, and yet Salacia had intervened to save her when Jupiter attacked.

Was the goddess Victoria loyal to Roman soldiers and generals over the other goddesses? Claudia wondered. Over other women?

Claudia took a deep breath and crossed the room, removing a gold ring from her finger. It had been her father’s. It was the imperial signet ring, with its heraldic eagle.

She’d taken it from his body before she killed him, and Decimus hadn’t been observant enough to notice its absence.

Now, she laid it at the feet of the statue as an offering.

The ring of the man she had poisoned to get here.

Few on earth would understand her actions, but the goddesses knew all. They saw all. Minerva had given her the idea to kill her father to begin with, though she hadn’t said so directly. It had been more of an implication – an acknowledgement of what was required of her. They knew what a monster he was, and her brother too. They knew she was different. That was why she believed they would come to her now, if she offered this symbol of the greatest possible sacrifice.

‘Victoria, goddess of victory, I seek your support. If I win, it shall be under your name, for your statue is witness. If you stand with me, and with the women of Rome, I implore you to reveal yourself.’

Claudia gazed up at the statue, willing the goddess to bless her with all her might.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered, as if the victory was already won.

Wetting her dry mouth in the most dignified way she could manage, Claudia returned to the centre of the floor… and waited.