If Mercury sent any other messages, someone else got to them first. Still, the morning wasn’t a total waste. I had some time to kill before my first lecture—“Great Roman Inventions: Concrete,” which was actually more interesting than it sounds (not) and taught by Vitellius, a purple-hued Lar with a captivating speaking voice (double not)—so I toured a few other temples. I loved Bellona’s fierce-warrior vibe and Jupiter’s blinged-out sanctuary. Pluto’s zombie-apocalypse theme? Not so much.

But the one that really spoke to me was the Temple of Mars Ultor. I mean, who wouldn’t dig that red marble crypt with its cast-iron doors? And inside, that massive statue of the Avenger (no, not one of those Avengers), his scarred face scowling and his spear raised as if to strike whoever dares to enter. Let’s not forget the display wall of human skulls and assorted weapons, from the kind that slice and dice to the kind that leave bullet-shaped holes. Even the ceiling pays tribute, with eleven identical and bizarre-looking shields that form the letter M.

That military man-cave—sorry, god-crypt—was built to intimidate, but the decor was so over-the-top, I broke into giggles while looking at it. I got out of there before I lost control, though. I’m not stupid enough to risk insulting the war god.

But I’m pretty sure I insulted his son. When I came out of Mars’s temple, I ran right into Praetor Frank Zhang. It was like hitting a brick wall, the guy is so solid. That should have sobered me up, but I took one look at him and started laughing all over again. I couldn’t even explain what was so funny. What would I have said? Your face reminds me of how ridiculous your dad’s temple is?

I feel bad about it, though. I would have apologized at dinner, but Praetor Frank wasn’t there.

Time to go—gotta review the recipe for Roman concrete in case there’s a quiz tomorrow.