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kind to you as the granddaughter of Augustus.”
    “I thought my grandfather didn’t know I existed.”
    “He had eyes and ears everywhere, as does Tiberius. He knew when you were born. It was Julia he was angry with.”
    They continued walking the long hall. “Did he know who my father was?”
    He halted his steps again. “Why do you ask?”
    “There was one my mother spoke of occasionally, but he was sent away. The African coast I think.”
    “Sent away?” He paused a moment. “Ah, Gracchus. He was fortunate only to be exiled these many years. The others were forced to commit suicide.” At her quick intake of breath, he laughed. “Have you been told he is your father?”
    She lowered her eyes. “I suspected, because of some things my mother said, but I don’t know.”
    “Waste no more time on that foolish imagination of yours. Gracchus is dead.”
    Claudia felt like someone had suddenly punched her in the stomach. “He is dead?”
    “The emperor received word that the noble centurion has died. A disease of some kind. Come, we are almost there.”
    As Claudia entered with Sejanus, she was aware of eyes suddenly turned on her.
    Six people, as well as the emperor, were arranged around the huge dining table set with graceful glassware. Claudia was led to a covered chair near Tiberius. The women did not recline as did the men. Tiberius waved a hand in the air magnanimously.
    “Ah, my esteemed guests, here is Claudia, the granddaughter of Augustus. Since she has no living male relative, I have claimed paterfamilias over her. She will be as my own daughter.”
    She wanted to run but remembered her grandmother’s words to act like the granddaughter of an emperor. She smiled shyly at the guests and sank down on her chair.
    “She is lovely.”
    “Julia’s child . . .”
    She felt the men’s open appraisal and glanced around at the women. They smiled graciously, but their eyes were more guarded.
    Fighting the anger that rose up once more, she vowed that while she had no choice over her life now, one day she would be free and live far from the emperor.
    Tiberius introduced his guests—Apicata, the wife of Sejanus; Levilla, the emperor’s widowed daughter-in-law; and two senators and their wives. She couldn’t remember all their names so merely nodded her head in acknowledgment. There was one empty chair and she realized that they were waiting for one more female guest.
    Suddenly a woman swept into the room, elegantly dressed, her chin uplifted, her manner arrogant. She was slender and had kept herself well, but her face betrayed her age. Deep lines had formed on either side of her mouth. It was evident she smiled little. She was an old woman, but somehow important, for Tiberius merely growled, “You are late, Livia.”
    Claudia’s eyes widened. This was the stepmother who had made her mother’s life miserable as a child.
    “Nonsense, Tiberius,” Livia murmured. “An empress is never late.”
    He did not respond but glared at her and nodded toward Claudia. “Your charge, madam.”
    Bearing the perusal of the empress with patience, Claudia waited for her response. The empress gave a slight shrug and turned her attention to another guest.
    Claudia shrank inside. What was ahead for her in this place?
    The emperor murmured to his steward, Milo, and servants appeared quickly to remove the sandals of the guests. Then they passed around basins of water and linen cloths so the guests could wash their hands.
    A stream of servants came with huge platters of food—succulent pork cooked with grape leaves, black olives in a relish sauce, stuffed pigeon, artichoke hearts and fresh asparagus steamed with carrots, chopped walnuts and fennel, platters of various goat cheeses, and small loaves of white bread, crisp on the outside and soft inside.
    Claudia had never seen so much food. Watching and listening had gained Claudia much information growing up. Now she let her eyes rest on the other guests. Levilla seemed