Lady Reylari had not felt well all day. She had been at the slave aution and felt dizzy. When a lull came in the bidding she had returned to the villa for some white willow bark. Then a visitor had come.

It would be most ungracious to suddenly jump up to run back to the slave market. She looked into her silver cup of wine. It was sitting on the flat surface of a marble table. Was it her imagination or did the wine seem to sway. Lady Reylari felt faint.

O...Pompeius, forgive me, am I seeing things?