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‘We will increase the protection at the Forum,’ said Damocles. ‘We have received several threats already. I will employ only the most trustworthy men to guard you during the ride.’

‘Threats? Threats from who?’ asked Gia.

‘Not sure, they were largely illegible and obscene, but it will pay well to be careful. We cannot lose a third ruler in less than a year.’

They resumed their officious planning. Hieronymus and Damocles were replaced by other advisors, each one with a new request. Ships. Grain. Gold. Soldiers. Temples. Walls. Decrees. Borders. But Claudia was no longer present in her body. Each time she looked up, there were more and more people present, their voices growing louder and more demanding. She began to question it all, to doubt it all. Yet she had chosen this. She had dreamed of this, prayed for it, and now that it had arrived, she did not feel as she expected to feel. She didn’t feel victorious but doomed, her head full of dread.

How would she be recorded in the annals of Roman politics? Would she be recorded at all? Or would she be the subject of a damnatio memoriae, her name erased from history for the crime of infamia?

‘Well?’ came a voice.

Claudia looked up to see Damocles staring at her expectantly. She realized she’d drifted away, stopped responding to conversation. Her other advisors were huddled together, debating whether they ought to fire cannons at the ceremony tomorrow or not.

Hot, hungry and overwhelmed, she stood up abruptly, her head swimming as she tried to anchor herself to reality. She felt herself swooning, her knees giving out.

Gia braced her fall, preventing her from falling down the steps.

‘Are you okay?’ Gia asked.

‘I don’t know what I am,’ Claudia said woozily.

‘Oh, that’s not good. We’d better get you some fresh air.’

‘Where are you going?’ said Hieronymus.

‘To the atrium,’ said Gia. ‘The empress will be no good to you if she’s laid up in bed with exhaustion. She needs a moment of rest.’

Hieronymus’s face shrivelled up in distaste. He didn’t like being instructed by a gladiator.

‘Unless you want to fight me over it,’ Gia said.

‘Do not be long,’ he said.

Claudia blinked, and she was in the atrium as handmaids flocked around her with water, wine and grapes. Surrounded by marble statues capturing figures of mythology, she gazed into the face of Proserpina, attempting to escape the clutches of the underworld god Pluto.

‘Here, eat something,’ said Gia, ambushing her with a fig. ‘You are as pale as a shade, living without the sun.’

Claudia gently pushed the fig away, lost in thought.

‘What’s on your mind?’ asked Gia.

‘Everything, literally everything.’

‘You’re going to have to be more specific.’

‘Jupiter,’ she said.

‘Not what I was expecting to hear, but go on.’

‘He tried to prevent me from reaching Rome at all. My coronation might well draw his attention. Will he make his presence known again? Will the people be safe?’

‘You are not a deity,’ said Gia. ‘You cannot be expected to protect everyone and everything.’

‘What if the world becomes a battleground for a divine war, and I was the one who fired the first cannon?’ said Claudia.

‘The gods were active long before us,’ said Gia. ‘Diana told me herself: the pantheon withdrew after meddling in ancient affairs.’

Claudia listened to the trickle of the atrium fountain as drums continued to beat out in the Forum.