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distresses you.”
    A look of horror clouded Peter’s face “Master! I wouldn’t criticize you to anyone! Is that what you believe? I never talk about you or the mistress! What goes on in this house is nobody else’s business. The court is a dangerous place and there are always those looking for information they might use for their own evil purposes.”
    Such as the fact the Christian emperor’s Lord Chamberlain was a practicing Mithran, John thought. “I am sorry to have had to raise the matter,” he replied. “My talking to myself, as you put it, is innocent enough, but I wondered if you had voiced your concern to anyone. I could understand it if you had.”
    “I assure you, master, I have done no such thing.”
    “I believe you. Yet the fact is somehow this habit of mine has become known to strangers.”
    Peter flushed with anger and flourished the knife he had been using. “They are talking about it on the public streets you mean? How dare they? But how could anyone know, master? Who would say anything?”
    “It might have been a friend who let it slip,” John mused.
    Peter’s expression brightened. “Ah. Well, if I may say so, master, young Anatolius can be indiscreet, and Captain Felix too, sometimes, well, after a cup too much wine. And then there are a number of courtiers who would be only too happy to make you a figure of fun.”
    Considering John employed one servant and entertained few visitors, it was difficult to think of more than a handful of people who might have overheard his conversations with the mosaic girl, let alone discovered the name by which he called her.
    “They say the very walls of the palace have ears,” Peter went on, as if reading his thoughts.
    “They might,” John replied, “but can they talk as well?”

Chapter Seven
    “Of course I haven’t mentioned Zoe to anyone! Furthermore, I’d be extremely annoyed if I didn’t realize you had good reason to question me.”
    Anatolius gestured at his desk, piled with documents and scrolls. “With all the legal work brought about by the plague, I’ve hardly had time to speak to the servants let alone gad about the city gossiping about my friends behind their backs.”
    He picked up a scroll and waved it in John’s direction. “I must get this summons delivered today. An old acquaintance of my father’s has engaged me to bring a case against an estate. It involves the deceased children of deceased parents and competing guardians, some dead, not to mention grandchildren, several of whom might actually be alive. Or perhaps not. As you know, we have four months to conclude these cases one way or the other, before they are thrown out. It could take that long to find enough competent witnesses to swear to the pertinent documents. And, needless to say, our opponent will cry forgery in any event.”
    “Not as easy as going down to Avernus,” John observed.
    “No. More like trying to return.” Anatolius gave a rueful laugh as he stared down into the jumble of documents. Following his gaze, John saw the image of a skull staring back from the tiled desk top.
    Anatolius shoved a leather bound codex over the fleshless visage. “That was father’s idea. He thought a man should surround himself with reminders of his mortality. What I say is mortality’s perfectly happy to tap you on the shoulder and remind you when the time comes.”
    “The cupids at least bring a note of joy.” John nodded toward the nearest wall, decorated with cavorting godlets playing musical instruments or driving chariots pulled by donkeys.
    Anatolius smiled. “Yes. You’ll recall this was my mother’s reception room, and after she died father made it his study. I must admit I’ve noticed some of my clients looking askance.”
    “You hadn’t thought of meeting them in another room?”
    The suggestion appeared to surprise Anatolius. “I suppose I could move my study if I wished. You know, this place still feels as if it is my parents’ house. Not mine.