“At least they are the same age,” Aelia offered. “Drusus is handsome and charming. I suppose she could do much worse. I hope he will be kind to her.”
“How did you manage an invitation?” Apicius asked Fannia. I had been wondering the same thing.
“Thankfully, Livia didn’t have anything to do with the invitations.” Fannia peered toward the flowered entryway where Caesar and his wife were due to arrive. “Agrippina asked me to come. She knows how much I adore her son. Drusus will be pleased I came, but I’m sure Livia will be furious when she sees me here. She wouldn’t dare throw me out in front of all these guests. It wouldn’t be a good omen for the new couple.”
Apicius smiled. Fannia was right; throwing out a guest would not be auspicious. The wedding had been, as tradition dictated, a small family affair, but the reception was turning out to be quite the opposite.
Aelia jerked her chin toward a small cluster of patricians. “Octavius and Gaia are here. I know you don’t want to talk to them but I should thank Gaia for the flowers she sent to me when I was sick last month. Excuse me, husband. I’d like to bring them greetings.”
Octavius waved in our direction and Apicius waved back politely. I suspected that my dominus was happy to have Aelia fraternize on his behalf. Aelia and Gaia were not oblivious to the contention between their husbands, but they never seemed to let it deter their friendship.
“Ahh, my favorite friend has arrived,” Fannia said in a sardonic whisper as three tubicines appeared in the sunlit entryway, their straight gold tubae sounding one long note signifying the entrance of Caesar and his wife, Livia. After sounding their horns, the men stepped to the side with a practiced march.
A small tremor reverberated through my belly as I watched the Imperial couple walk through the doors, flanked by the newly wedded Livilla and Drusus Julius Caesar.
Tiberius drew up the rear, looking both tired and uncomfortable. The gossip was that he had reluctantly returned from his villa at Rhodes to which he had retired several years prior. Apparently his new appointment as heir to Caesar had been enough to make him reconsider. Upon the recent deaths of his grandsons, Lucius and Gaius, Caesar had moved quickly to adopt Tiberius in order to ensure a successor. The plebeian masses had rumbled about the adoption for the last few weeks, concerned about the idea of the dictatorship passing to yet another heir, just as a crown might pass to kings. Augustus merely declared several public feasts (with freely distributed food) to commemorate the event, which quelled the rabble. As for Tiberius, bets had already been placed on how long it would be before he retired once more to his island retreat.
“They look happy,” Apicius said to Fannia. “But Tiberius looks as though he ate a bad piece of meat.”
“Maybe the wine will cheer him up.” She pointed at the long line of amphorae gracing one wall. “Caesar is far too conservative, denying women wine at his parties. Women should be able to partake of wine just as the men do.”
“It makes women wanton,” Apicius teased.
“Of course it does!” Fannia laughed.
Caesar began speaking, his commanding voice loud enough to be heard even at the back of the garden. He stood between the new couple while Livia and Tiberius hovered in the background, eying the crowd.
“She saw me.” Fannia lifted her semicircular gold-painted fan to hide her lips as she spoke.
“I worry about you.” Apicius shifted so another patrician blocked Livia’s view as he spoke. “This rivalry is dangerous. Fannia, there is talk she may have had a hand in Lucius’s death. I heard she paid one of Gaius’s soldiers to make his murder look like a battle wound!”
“Rumors, rumors!” Fannia chuckled softly behind the fan. “Besides, you should talk. You are the one who keeps avoiding her for fear she may seek retribution for refusing Octavius’s purchase of your coquus. And you dare to bring him here today!”
Apicius shrugged off her criticism. “Fannia, she is staring at you, not me. You shouldn’t be here. What if those rumors are true? You do not want to be in the sight of the gorgon. And if you are in her sights that means I am too. Sometimes I wonder how much of a liability you are to me.”
“I see.” She seemed annoyed. “Well, too late now.” Indeed, Livia was staring at Fannia—directly, with the intensity of a vestal flame. Despite the burning gaze, she remained composed, her face still beautiful at sixty-two years. She wore barely any jewelry, as was her practice, and her white stola was adorned with a bright red sash. Her gray hair was cropped close in a simple but elegant cut, with dozens of curls circling her barely lined face. Her lips were stained red, the same color as her sash. After a few moments of looking directly at Fannia, she raised her hand in a slight wave, a movement driven purely by the need for public protocol.
Fannia smiled sweetly and tipped her fan in response.
Caesar’s speech was ending. I had been so absorbed in watching the exchange between Livia and Fannia that I hadn’t heard a word. It didn’t matter; wedding speeches were always the same. Good luck, happy life, gods smiling down, et cetera. I glanced at Aelia. She stood next to Gaia and Octavius, smiling at Livilla and Drusus, her face aglow with the moment.
A flock of white doves flew over the garden, predictably, at the close of Caesar’s speech, circling twice before landing in an orderly huddle on the roof overlooking the party. It bothered me that the rulers of Rome had always danced with the favor of the gods, faking such displays to puff themselves up for the plebs. No wonder so many of them came to ominous ends.
“What fortune will come to them with so many doves!” Aelia had returned and was beaming. “Apicata will be sad to have missed such a sight.”
“Come now.” Fannia took Aelia and Apicius by the elbow. “Refreshments are in order.” She propelled them toward the front of the garden, where the slaves were distributing wine to the men and juice to the women. Sotas and I followed behind, nodding our brief hellos to other slaves we recognized as we passed.
Throughout the garden, plush couches and chairs were nestled in nooks shaded by bushy palms. Many of the women began to congregate in these cool gossip pockets while others laughed gaily as they watched their husbands line up to be chosen for a drinking game.
Fannia stopped a young slave girl with a tray of glasses. “Here’s your first taste of Caesar’s finest.” She handed Apicius a glass of golden wine, taking a glass of honeyed water for herself and one for Aelia. Apicius lifted the goblet to his nostrils and took a deep whiff.