Titus Marius Glaber accepted the bowl of soup from his daughter's hands with a grunt of thanks and a request for bread. He chewed slowly. Deliberately. Contemplatively. Watching his daughter obliquely as she waited to serve the next course.

"We're not on the bloody Palatine, Maria. You can sit down and eat with me."

"Why? Are you worried I poisoned your soup?"

"No. More likely the eggs."

Maria smiled at the old joke and sat across from her father. "If ever I decide to eliminate you, tata, I don't think I'll resort to poison. That's too womanly."

"You're a woman," her father replied. "Whatever method you use will be 'womanly'."

She shrugged. "I don’t like clichés."

Glaber broke off a piece of bread and dropped it in his soup. "How's Corvus doing?"

Maria did not pretend to misunderstand the comment. "I've only met with Marcus Aemilius Corvus once or twice. Legitimately. Furthering your business."

"Mpfh." Glaber ate a spoonful of the soup. "You've met with him three times. Once in some temple. Once at a caupona that serves a particularly tasty meatball wrap and once at a caupona that has no reason to exist other than to provide discreet places for people to meet who have no business meeting."

"Piscator?"

"No. Hanno. He's very good at observing people without being seen."

She sighed. "Fine. We talked. About the elections."

"Yes?" Her father raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. "And what did the two of you say about the elections?"

"Inter alia, we discussed the street artists' portrayal of Corvus as a powerful raven picking the bones of a dead Gaul."

"I thought those were outstanding drawings!"

"Well, Corvus was not all together pleased with the image. I suppose he tends to think of himself more as a 'military engine' than as an oversized crow. And he had some frivolous objection that he'd not actually been out killing Gauls."

Glaber laughed. "How did you respond to that complaint?"

"Oh, I told him that nobody of any consequence likes Gauls but everybody loves enormous black birds and military engines."

"I suppose you have no intention of meeting with Corvus again. Now that the elections are over."

"His name is 'Marcus'," Maria drawled, goading her father to some exaggerated response. Glaber refused to be drawn however.

"I realize you think you know what you're doing."

She waited awhile, but when no further comment came, asked, "What is it that you think you know that I know about what I'm doing?"

"He has a wife."

Maria shrugged. "I had a husband. Much good that ever did me."

"He can't marry you."

"He wouldn't marry me even if he had no wife. A senator and the daughter of a teamster?" Maria laughed and added, "I think that might be grounds for booting him out of the Senate."

"Were you planning to go a-whoring?"

"Well what did you think was going to happen when you threw me at his head like you did?"

Glaber put down his spoon. "I hoped your presence would throw Corvus off his stroke and that he might be inclined to view me as just a trifle soft."

Maria snorted. "You're dreaming if you think that Corvus would have been willing to deal with you at all unless he had investigated the matter, knew exactly who and what you are, and precisely what you could be expected to do for him and at what cost. If you're that naïve, maybe I could interest you in buying the Pons Aemilius? Or perhaps you'd like to purchase shares in a nice, rich ore-mine in Northwest Hispania? Lovely farming country there too, I hear."

"Yes," Glaber replied affably. "And I'd only need about eight legions and sixty or seventy Carthaginian thugs to hold it."

"So true." Maria sliced a piece of bread and sprinkled some pounded cheese on it. "There's always the Parthian prince scam. You know: My father was the heir to the king of kings, but died in a palace coup, and he has a Gadetanian bank account worth millions but I need you to help me get the money which you can do if only you will give me a thousand denarii to get started."

"How about five hundred? I might be interested then."

"Couldn't I just sell you the Pons Aemilius?" Maria laughed softly then sighed. "Tata, what do you want of me? Corvus is… interesting."

"He's dangerous."

"That's why he's interesting."

"When are you meeting him again?"

"At the gladiatorial games. It will be somewhat tricky, since I'll have to sit in the women's compound and he'll be down with the senators right by the arena. We'll manage."

"You could wait in the fornix. Like a Via Sacra whore." Maria blushed slightly and shook her head 'no.' Glaber met his daughter's gaze squarely. "If you want a husband, I'll find you one."

"I don't want one and you can't afford to marry me off just yet. I have no brother. Whoever you give me to is going to be regarded as your heir. If you let your men know your choice too soon, you give the rest of them time plot against him. And you."

"True enough. But nobody's going to be willing to take you if you have the reputation of a slut."

She shrugged. "I'm not so sure of that. First of all, since I'm a widow, no rational man could expect me to be a virgin. And once goods have been sampled, what matter how often?"

"You know, you really can be vulgar." Glaber rested his head in his hands and thought for awhile. "No gossip. If I pick up so much as a hint, you go to your mother's sister in Arpinum and I marry you off to a farmer."

Maria smiled slowly. "You would never do that to me, tata."

He sighed. "Don't be so sure."

She kissed his cheek and began to clear the dishes.