Maria looked on in some dismay as the Consul materialized spluttering and fussing. "I suppose it would be misunderstood if I offered to help dust his toga off for him?"

Nitakribit nodded. "Roman men are that way."

"Oh let him live with a muddy toga for awhile. It won't kill him." Diantha held out her hand waiting for wine to appear. Which it did. The natives being friendly and all.