Solar Wind. Book one - страница 22

Regin chuckled. “The ball is thrown!” a comparison with the trigon came to him, a game he had just watched. “We'll have to get it back.”

“Oh gods, no Lucius!” He uttered the words emphatically calmly, smiling kindly. “I've always stood for justice. But let me tell you, not all the honorable husbands of the Senate have water going to their city houses, and I don't understand why it is? After all, almost everyone lives in villas where there is water, as here at Domitia and in my neighborhood.”

“This water is needed in the insulae,33 which are owned by senators. For example, Valerius Homullus,” here Servianus pauses with value, “especially needs such improvement, because he has three insulae, in which many residents of the city are rented apartments.”

Again, the ball is in my direction! thought Regin and grinned sarcastically.

“Hm, a private improvement at the expense of Rome's budget? I don't know if our great emperor would like it.”

“Perhaps you, Servianus, missed my ball!”

He, stretching the hard wrinkles of the face smile, portraying a prudent, good host. The prefect of Rome Regin wanted to show Faustina that he was guarding the city’s interests and would not allow funds to be squandered in favor of some Homullus. He thought that Titus Antoninus, known for his modesty and commitment to the laws, would appreciate such efforts, and Faustina would undoubtedly pass this conversation on to her husband.

But she reacted unexpectedly.

“Can't you make a small exception for someone?” she asked, raising her eyebrows arrogantly and mockingly, and Regin felt as if the ball had been thrown at him from the wrong side. The left hand did not have time to react, the ball fell to the ground and rolled towards Servianus.

“I think it's time to taste the fruit,” suddenly intervened Domitia on the right of the hostess, recalling that Faustina once shared with her impressions of those people who often visited their house. Homullus's surname was one of the first. Narrow-minded man, as Regin believed, Servianus was smart enough to set a dangerous trap, as Regin believed.

In the voice of Marcus's mother through nervousness, it was felt by all present and satisfied with himself Lucius Servianus, whose meaty face melted into a smile, deciding to amplify the effect.

“As for the princeps,” he called Hadrian one of his many titles, “I don't think there will be any difficulty with his approval. I was at his reception recently, and he deigned to inform me that he had almost settled on the heir nomination. You know, his health leaves much to be desired lately. But now Caesar has gone back to Syria. The war in Judea continues, and he wants to personally check how things are going. Unfortunately, we have lost many warriors from the Spanish and Deiotariana legions. Now one of your relatives Sextus Julius Sever commands there.”

Servianus took a glass of wine, took a sip, looking contentedly at the interlocutors. He was pleased that he amazed everyone with his knowledge; he was pleased that the rest were freezing, waiting for him to continue.

Regin sat with an impenetrable face, staring at his opponent with faded eyes. Faustina, looking eagerly at Servianus, did not notice how from the corner of her mouth flowed red drops of wine, similar to blood. It looked like she bit her lip with annoyance. One of the serving Greek slaves, who accompanied her from the house, hurriedly leaned over and wiped the mistress's chin.