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I’ll make new friends. Now go to bed. It’s late.”

Seven

    IN EARLY OCTOBER, ZOE SENT A MESSENGER TO ANNA, REQUESTING that she attend her immediately. Zoe drew her like a flame that was dangerous, unpredictable, at times destructive, but above all a blazing light, and Anna was in urgent need of more information.
    When she arrived Zoe received her at once, which was in itself a compliment. Today she was dressed in a wine red tunic with a lighter red dalmatica over it, clasped at the shoulder with an enormous gold-and-amber jewel. More gold and amber hung on her ears and around her neck and was echoed at the embroidered hems of her garments. With her topaz eyes and deep bronze hair, Zoe was breathtaking.
    “Ah! Anastasius,” she said eagerly, walking toward Anna, smiling. “How is your business? I hear good reports of you from my friends.” It was a courteous question and asked with enthusiasm. It was also a reminder that most of Anna’s best patients-the ones with money who paid on time and recommended her further-had come because of Zoe.
    “Good, and getting better all the time,” Anna answered. “I thank you for your recommendations.”
    “I am happy they have been useful.” Zoe waved one elegant hand, sharp-nailed and decorated with rings, indicating the table with a jug of wine, several goblets, and a green glass bowl of almonds.
    “Thank you,” Anna said, as if accepting, but she made no move toward it. She was too tense with expectation as to what Zoe wanted. She looked in good health, even if some of it was achieved with her own salves and potions and a great deal of willpower.
    “How can I be of service?” Anna asked. She had learned not to compliment women as if she were a whole man or to commiserate as if she were another woman.
    Zoe smiled, amused. “Quick to the point, Anastasius. Have I drawn you away from another patient?” She was probing, seeing how Anastasius would walk the razor’s edge between flattery and truth, keeping his own dignity, maintaining the respect for his skill, yet also being available to do whatever Zoe wished. He could not yet afford to refuse, and they both knew it. Zoe was not a patient in this instance, yet it would be absurdly arrogant for Anastasius ever to imagine they were social acquaintances. He was a eunuch from the provinces who earned his own living; Zoe was of an aristocratic family and not just a native of the city, but almost an embodiment of its soul.
    Anna measured her words, smiling a little. “Is this not business?”
    Zoe’s golden eyes flashed with laughter. “Of course. It is a friend, a young woman named Euphrosane Dalassena. She has a disease of the skin, and it is somewhat embarrassing to her. You seem to be skilled in such things. I have told her you will come.”
    Anna swallowed the sting of arrogance at being so taken for granted. Even so, Zoe saw the flicker and knew what it meant. It pleased her.
    “If you tell me where I may find her, I shall call,” Anna answered.
    Zoe nodded slowly, satisfied, and named the house and the street. “Urgently, if you please. Study her carefully, consider her mind as well as her body. It is of concern to me how she progresses. Do you understand?”
    “I shall be happy to tell you that she is doing well, or not so well,” she replied.
    “I don’t care about her skin!” Zoe snapped. “You can take care of that, I have no doubt. She is recently widowed. I am interested in her state of mind, the strength of her character.”
    Anna hesitated on the brink of further restrictions on what she felt free to say, then decided it would be pointless. It would anger Zoe for no reason. She would decide how much to tell her later.
    “I’ll go straight away,” she said graciously.
    Zoe smiled. “Thank you.”
     
    • • •
     
    Euphrosane Dalassena was in her late twenties, but at first she seemed younger. Her features were excellent and she should have been lovely, but there was a certain insipidity about