"To Ea, slave of Addisonius Furius:
I have need of your services. Addisonius has granted permission. Be at my villa on the Palatine hill at midday. Payment may be arranged.
-- Drusilla Livia"

Ea looked at the note yet again, and frowned. When she'd recieved it earlier that morning, she'd thought for sure it was a trap, that the lady had suspicions that Ea was a spy, and this was a clever way to find out. Consulting with Furius, however, Ea had found out different.

The lady, apparently, had taken Furius aside and asked him if -- being an advocatus -- he knew of a good spy. Furius, apparently, believed Drusilla trustworthy and had recommended Ea herself.

*Well, then,* Ea thought resignedly, *it appears there is no choice. If I must walk into a trap, it will not be willingly.* She looked up, at the end of the back-alleys that she could have walked blind. She breathed in deeply.

"The Palatine, then," she muttered, and began the walk up the Palatine hill. Splendor was all around her, but Ea remained unimpressed. She paused to consider the note, scanning it for some trace of personality, some flaw, some character, such as people were usually fool enough to leave in their writing. All she saw was a vague imperiousness and a no-nonsense manner. Well, she would work with it.

Ea soon reached the house she'd been told was the Livius villa. It was tall, stately, and of a modest yellowish color that was nonetheless tasteful. Again, vague. These people were either unopinionated, or else irritatingly hard to guess at. Ea walked silently up the steps and knocked on the door.