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On the morning of the prince’s arrival, Claudia woke early and watched as dawn lit the sky. Birds swooped past her window, gathering on the roof, the sound of their beating wings drawing her to the balcony.

Climbing quietly out of bed and opening the curtains, she crossed the room and pulled open the partition that enclosed the balcony, standing at the railing to look out over the gardens.

Ornamental trees and marble statues were arranged in a grid, with crisp, watered lawns and trickling fountains. Guards moved slowly through the morning mists, their armour gleaming in the haze.

All was quiet.

All was peaceful, for now.

Claudia closed her eyes, taking a deep, stirring breath. She tried to think of nothing, until a soft flutter caught her attention.

A small brown bird sat on the stony railing, staring at her. It cocked its head, curious and friendly.

‘Hello, cute one,’ she whispered.

It reminded her of when she was a girl, and the bird her brother killed. She felt a strong, painful longing for a past that had never existed, for a family she’d never had.

She reached out her hand, hoping it would hop on, but the bird flew away just as suddenly as it had arrived.

A lone ‘boo’ cut through the quiet. Claudia looked to the Forum to see the protestors gathering, ready for another day of disapproval.

It wouldn’t look good to have civil unrest on the streets when the prince arrived. It wouldn’t do much for her reputation, if she was to make him respect her. Should she order the guards to have the protesters rounded up and imprisoned? Or would that only enrage them further?

Claudia yawned. She’d stayed up far too late, staring into Minerva’s shield, secretly watching the prince for signs, but nothing she saw gave her cause to think him immediately dangerous. He was charming, courteous to his staff and gentle with his many beasts, all of which had names and favourite snacks he fed to them. He had a harem of women who accompanied him, fussing over him maternally, but he was respectful towards them, if not familial. He didn’t engage in any nocturnal activities with them. He took their advice and considered their opinions. As the prince’s party approached the city walls, he had brief conversations with his advisors, all of whom were bearded men in hats of varying heights, but he spoke only of marrying her and securing the Roman-Persian alliance, not of plotting to have her murdered.

All the same, she had to be on guard. The journey from Persepolis was long. The prince was still travelling on the day of her coronation. Had he paid an assassin to kill her ahead of his arrival in order to seize Rome? It was possible, but her gut told her he was not responsible – that it had been a distinctly Roman job, complete with a seal of Jupiter.

Claudia stared into the middle distance for a moment, trying to gather the strength to go on with her day, then she roused Gia, who quickly departed before Claudia’s handmaids arrived to style and dress her.

She wore her luxurious new robes for the occasion, white and purple with detailed embroidery, accessorizing with a purple cloak and matching diadem, with amethysts woven into its laurel leaves.

‘Are you excited to meet the prince?’ asked Aurelia, when Claudia yawned behind her hand again.

‘Oh, yes,’ lied Claudia. ‘It will be good to put a face to the name I’ve known for such a long time. Yet, I’m also apprehensive of what he might be like. He is a stranger to me.’

‘I understand, Empress,’ said Aurelia, nodding sagely. ‘It’s like when you go to meet a boy just because your friend knows his friend. Sometimes he’s nice and you can enjoy his company for a while, and sometimes he’s a pig you can’t wait to see the back of.’

Nadira flashed her a look of panic, signalling that she might not want to discuss her romantic life with the ruler of Rome, but Claudia was glad of the chatter, filling the silence and her mind.

What harm would it do for her to give the impression that she might be interested in Darius? It might even help dispel the rumours.

She laughed, signalling that Aurelia’s oversharing was welcome.

‘I’ve heard he’s very handsome though,’ she said, which elicited a delighted giggle from the handmaids.

‘So have we.’

‘Delphine in the kitchen says he’s more handsome than the statue of Apollo in the courtyard,’ said Aurelia.

‘How does she know?’

‘She says an oracle told her.’

‘I’m sure he’s preferable to my own cousin, at least.’

‘You should wear your hair like this,’ said Nadira, pulling out two wavy strands to frame her face. ‘It looks the prettiest.’

‘You’ll make a beautiful couple,’ said Aurelia, sighing wistfully. ‘If he’s not a pig, that is.’