“Oh, but that is why I am needed here. Your king consort looks to need a laugh. Do you care for watching acrobatics, King Consort Cormag? I am quite adept.”
Cormag crossed his arms and scowled.
I swallowed a laugh. “Very well. We shall give it a try,” I said.
“Oh, great queen, I?—”
“As a tutor, first and foremost. And if the time comes, we’ll consider frolics.”
“Thank you, Queen Cartimandua. I promise you that you will not be sorry. May Bacchus be praised.”
I turned to Corva. “See him settled,” I said, then turned to Fabius. “I will remind you that you are not in Rome. If you get into unwanted dalliances with a Brigantes woman, you will be skinned alive and hung from the gate.”
Fabius lifted one finger, thinking a moment to protest, then smiled demurely at me. “I would not risk my position here for anything,” he reassured me with a coquettish smile.
Rolling her eyes, Corva said, “Come on,” and then led the man from the room.
I turned back to Cormag.
“He will not be tutoring me,” Cormag said.
I chuckled. “I would not ask it.”
“Can he be trusted?”
“His situation will buy his loyalty to some degree. As for his character, we will see.”
“He is quite full of character.”
“Indeed.”
Despite Fabius’s flamboyant nature,he was true to his word. Hewasan educated man, and as it turned out, a very good tutor.
“Very good, Queen Cartimandua,” he said, reviewing my work. We had been sitting at the table for the last several hours, Fabius refining my alphabet and sweeping the dust off what little Latin I had been taught as a girl under Bellnorix’s direction. “You remember very well.”
“My grandfather did not trust the Romans would not return to these shores. He saw I had a tutor as a girl, but the man died and was not replaced. As time passed, fear of another Caesar faded.”
“Do you fear another Caesar?” he asked, arching an eyebrow at me.
“I fear nothing, but distrust everyone and everything.”
Fabius laughed. “Then you will rule a very long time, Queen Cartimandua. Now, let us begin with this conjugation again,” he said, pointing. When he did so, however, he rubbed his hands and then shifted in his seat, pulling his cloak tighter.
“Cold?” I asked.
“I am cold everywhere I go. I am from Capri, a sun-drenched island surrounded by blue waters and always bathed in sunlight. My blood runs thin as summer wine. All the world is cold outside of Capri.”
“I’m sorry you were not able to return home.”
“Well,” Fabius replied with a sigh. “The senator is old, drinks, overeats, and farts constantly. He will be dead soon enough, and when he is—with your leave, of course—I will go home.”
“Then I will selfishly toast his good health for one more season, at least.”
“Rascal,” Fabius scolded me, and then we again turned to our work.
Later that evening, after Fabius and I had gone our separate ways, I sought out Kamden.
“My queen?”