Domitian was already there, together with Julia, Messalinus, Ursus, and some other friends. The Emperor, standing apart from the latter, said with a sneer to Domitia,—
“So you have shed your blue—a cloud has passed over the azure! That is well. And now, madam, I granted you the first place at the games, in the circus, to humor the people; but in my palace it shall be as I will, not as they. Julia shall take the precedence, and she shall occupy the first position at table, and everywhere. She is the daughter of the God Titus, granddaughter of the God Vespasian-”
“And great grand-daughter of the Commissioner of Nuisances.”
“Silence,” roared Domitian, “she has the sacred Flavian blood, she is of Divine race, and shall sit by me, recline by me, in the position of honor, and you occupy a stool at my feet. Julia and I will have a lectisternium of the Gods! Am not I divine?—and she divine?”
“Certainly,” answered Domitia, “she is the daughter of a victor who has triumphed, I the wife of a man who will filch laurels from his generals, and himself has never seen a battle.”
Domitian clenched his teeth and hands, and glared at her.
“I wish to the Gods I could find it in my heart to have thee strangled, thou demon cat.”
“I can understand that, having let out the divine blood of the Flavii from the throat of your cousin Sabinus, you would stoop to me.”
“What—what—what is this?” exclaimed Messalinus, thrusting his pointed face in the direction of the prince and Domitia; he scented an altercation.
As for her—she wondered at herself, having the courage to defy the Lord of the World. She could not keep down the disgust, the hatred she felt for the man who had wrecked her life, it must out, and she valued not her life sufficiently to deny herself the gratification of throwing off her mind the taunts that rose in it, and lodged on her tongue.