15
In the morning light, Proba looked small and fragile. Her confidence was replaced with nervous energy. She paced back and forth in front of the house. Rufus and Ezio organized their vegetables and dishes in the shops. The cart that had carried Quintinus’ body back to town stood filled with Proba’s ledgers and belongings for her stay at the estate.
“I’ll ride in the cart with my maid,” Proba said.
“As you wish,” Argolicus said. “Don’t worry. My mother is not formidable. You will like her.”
Proba arched an eyebrow.
“She might pressure me, and she has. But she will welcome you to the estate.”
Eboric turned to lead the extra horse back to the stable. In the street, slaves were out to buy household goods. It seemed like a normal morning. The rabble-rousers were not visible. But Argolic
