Page 17 of Royally Roma
She crossed her arms. “Then what are you saying, exactly?”
“Just that being emperor probably wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.” His smile bordered on patronizing.
Julia found it wholly annoying.
Stop talking. Just smile sweetly, keep your mouth shut, and move on with the tour.
She forced her lips into a grin. It was the keeping-her-mouth-shut part that seemed to be giving her trouble. “You’re serious?”
“Absolutely.” If he hadn’t struck her as so well educated, she would have thought he was in need of a history lesson.
Perhaps he simply needed a refresher course. “I’m sure you’ve heard of Caligula, widely considered to be one of the most evil men in human history.”
“Of course.” He shrugged. “As I recall, after a short four-year reign, he ended up being murdered by his own security detail. His body was rumored to be eaten by dogs in the street, so I believe he got his due.”
He was defending Caligula? Unbelievable.
Julia pushed her damp fringe from her face. The rain was really coming down now, yet here they stood, arguing about the relative nastiness of Roman emperors. Nothing about this tour was ordinary. Nothing at all. “You know that Nero killed his mother, right? And his ex-wife? And he’s said to have fiddled while Rome burned? He wasn’t just evil. He was nuts.”
His expression remained impassive. Julia had never met a more brazenly confident man in all her life. Not even her father. “I believe he eventually committed suicide, did he not? Hardly the mark of a stress-free lifestyle.”
He had a point.
Julia was temporarily silenced. And also very much impressed. The man knew his emperors.
“Don’t tell me I’ve rendered you speechless. Come now. I’ve no doubt you can tell me more about the evils of the reigning classes.” He winked.
Was he flirting again or being condescending? Julia honestly couldn’t tell. Nor did she know which would be preferable.
On second thought, she’d prefer condescension. Arrogance, she could deal with. Flirting, not so much.
The Elio debacle was all too fresh. Chiara was frustrated beyond words with Julia’s inability to put it behind her. Once six months had gone by, her friend had done enough handholding and had moved on to the tough-love phase. Half a year was more than enough time to devote to heartbreak, she insisted. Julia might have agreed if she weren’t still paying the very real consequences of her horrible lapse in judgment.
Charming as he might be, she didn’t know the first thing about Mano. Other than that he was handsome, smart, handsome, well-mannered, handsome, and sympathized with malevolent rulers. And had she mentioned handsome? Good looks aside, he was trouble. The warning signs were everywhere, from his odd behavior at the hotel and his insistence on not being photographed to sensing his overall detachment. It was as though he were somewhere he didn’t belong, which made no sense at all. Who came to Rome without seeing the Colosseum?
He looked down at her, a hint of a smile on his lips.
She looked up at him and her heart gave a rebellious tug. What had they been talking about again?
Tell me more about the evils of the reigning classes.
“Actually...” She was about to launch into an account of the emperor Tiberius when Mano tore his gaze from hers and began digging through the voluminous layers of his plastic poncho.
She watched as he reached into his pocket and retrieved his cell phone. He frowned at its display.
“Something wrong?” she asked.
He stared intently at the phone for another minute or two, then smiled at her again. Except it looked a little forced this time.
“No. Nothing. Everything’s fine. Brilliant.” He slipped his phone back in his pocket. “Where were we?”
“We were discussing the woes of being royal. Ancient Romans thought of their leaders as gods. Some of them even claimed divinity for themselves. Domitian demanded his subjects call him ‘lord and god.’ Modest fellow, wasn’t he?” She rolled her eyes. “And you do know Augustus was deified.”
“So was Claudius, but that doesn’t make him perfect.” The corner of Mano’s mouth lifted into a sardonic grin. “I said I presumed it was stressful being the emperor. I never said the men in the royal household were saintly. Trust me. I know better.”
Julia would have snickered, but something about the steely look in his eyes told her they weren’t playing around anymore. He was serious.
Trust me. I know better.
