Song of the Nile by Stephanie Dray

you must learn from me. Always know the most important person in the room.”
    I took an agate cup of watered wine from a passing slave to reconsider my answer, and peered over its striated rim. By the entryway, Agrippa shifted from foot to foot, eager to leave. He was the emperor’s trusted soldier and strategist, the true enforcer of all his power. Aside from the emperor, he was likely the most important person in the room, but I was suddenly hesitant to say so. Indeed, the banquet was filled with more luminaries than I could name, and I hesitated to set one above the other without knowing the emperor’s purpose for fear of condemning a man as a rival. At my hesitation, the emperor growled. “Too slow, Selene! The answer is Lucius Cornelius Balbus , the man who gave you this fine purple garment. He’ll be accompanying you to Mauretania and he’s the most important person here because of what he represents.”
    “So, it was a trick question.” Then again, with the emperor, they always were.
    “You’re clever enough to grasp it. Balbus is a veteran. The loyalty of the legions has been at the core of my victories. Now all these ambitious soldiers need to be settled and appeased. My veterans will be there for you to call upon if the natives rise up, but you’ll need to win their confidence. Otherwise, I’m better off making Mauretania a Roman province.”
    “I dispute none of that,” I said, finally settling upon my own answer. “But I think the most important person here is Julia.”
    “Julia?” He laughed as if I’d told some grand jest.
    I braved explaining myself. “You need her because of what she represents. Haven’t you called Rome yet another wayward daughter for you to govern? When citizens measure how you treat Julia, they gauge what kind of father you’ll be to the empire.” I said this both because I believed it and because I noticed the way Julia and Iullus flirted, feeding one another grapes at the far end of the hall, laughing at some private joke between them. Julia’s arrangement with her husband had filled me with foreboding. There might come a time when the emperor wished to punish Julia, and even if he forgot all paternal love for her, perhaps he’d remember her political significance if I pointed it out to him now.
    Augustus shifted to face me, letting the asparagus fall back to his plate. “You’re right about one thing. Everyone is always measuring me, judging me. Thanks to your twin, this city is filled with malcontents, agitating to steal from me all that I’ve won. Look at these people eating my food and availing themselves of my hospitality as if they weren’t waiting for me to stumble . . .”
    I shouldn’t let him dwell on those who resented his power. It made him paranoid and vengeful. “They’ll praise your name when the grain flows again and that’s something I can make happen as Queen of Mauretania.”
    “You’re too sure of yourself. Mauretania isn’t like Egypt. It’s uncivilized. You and Juba could fail to turn it into the breadbasket and port of trade I need . . .”
    Because no one was listening, I dared to say, “But if we succeed, you must agree that I could rule Egypt even better.”
    He caught me with a shrewd sideways glance, and for a moment I worried that I’d pushed too far. Then he laughed. “You’d think I’d tire of your single-minded greed, Selene, but if you ever ceased angling for things out of your grasp, I’d worry you were up to some treachery . . .” He leaned back, eyes searching the crowd. “Sadly, I seem to have overestimated your twin’s affection for you. I hoped Helios might interrupt your wedding or try to smuggle himself into the breakfast, where my guards could catch him.”
    With the emperor, there were always layers upon layers of intrigue. I found it strangely comforting to know that I’d been used as bait for my brother. Not long ago, incensed that Helios had escaped the imperial compound and outraged at rebellion in