“The Easterners”
Romulus
Palatium Supranio
Adrianople
(Co-written with Latin)
The trip to Latium had been an uneventful one as far as his usual trips went. Romulus had received an invitation as well via his ambassador, the Count of Sindri, Decius Anacomas. His wife and the Autokrateira, Florentia, was a relative of Constantine, which meant the two were related by marriage. His past dealings with Constantine had been pleasant, as few as they had been. Jason VI Augustus had been instrumental in negotiations to sign the Adrianople Agreement, a military cooperation agreement between the two nations that resulted in periodic military exercises and the ability to exchange cadets in officer schools. Romulus had been much younger than Jason at the time but had never felt like Jason was speaking down on him because of his age. He had very much liked Jason after that.
As he had lounged in the highback chair of the royal suite in the Villa Ammuriani watching the coronation, he couldn’t help but think back to his own coronation. He had been a boy of fifteen and had just lost his own father. He was the eldest and the Heir-Apparent. Many of his days were spent with his father and the two had become close. It had been a deeply felt loss. The event was mostly a blur. As was customary, he was coronated in the hours after his father passed. He hoped Constantine had a better experience at his coronation than Romulus’ own. He had heard of the events of the year prior but knew little outside of what the official reports were and what he had heard from Florentia’s father, Constantine Bellienus, 4th Lord of Durocortorum.
That was his other reason for taking a liking to Constantine’s father. Jason had blessed his marriage to the love of his life, Florentia. He knew how lucky of a man he was. Very few men in his position could afford to marry out of love. His uncle had certainly not approved. He cared little for Brutus’ opinion on a great many things, however. He was the one on the throne, not his uncle. The two had wed in 2004 and had been pregnant with Herakleios two months later. He was the only one of his five children that were allowed to come. Having just turned fourteen, Herakleios was less than a year off from turning fifteen. At that point, he would be able to marry and step into his responsibilities as Despotes, the title for the Tarsan Heir-Apparent.
Though the wedding was not allowing children as a general rule, Herakleios had met Constatine several years ago on one of his mother’s many visits to Latium to see her family. He had begged Romulus to allow him to go and made some good arguments as to why he should be allowed to do so. Eventually relenting, he had put in a request to Decius Anacomas to ask the Imperial Household if Herakleios could attend the wedding. When word came that they granted permission, the boy had been ecstatic. Cousin Constantine was someone he idolized. He wanted to attend Olympia just like his cousin.
Two hours before it was time to leave for the ceremony he had woken his son and the two were dressed in the proper attire for such an event by the servants Romulus had brought along. His personal Steward, Pallades Herminides, had fussed over the two of them for the next hour. Pallades had been a personal friend of Romulus as long as he could remember. As a boy, he had ran away from his abusive single father who was a drunk. He had drifted on the streets of Civitas Tarsae for a month before he managed to get a job at fifteen in Argios Palace as a gardener. He was three years younger than Romulus but the two had become fast friends after they had met by chance as Romulus walked through the gardens. Pallades was timid but very organized and he had quickly fallen into a role of keeping Romulus organized.
For his 18th birthday, Romulus had promoted him to his steward, which proved to be a job he excelled at. He had held it for twelve years thus far and Rom had no intention of replacing him. Each of them bathed and dressed in the finery of the Hellenic Court. Romulus wore his deep navy blue silk suit with his various medals of office pinned on the jacket. The Great Seal of the Hellenic Empire rested heavily on his finger. A pair of fine leather shoes completed his attire. He generally preferred more simple garments and let his bride wear the more flashy attire. Herakleios donned similar attire, choosing a burgundy silk suit with his own ring for his office. He assumed that many of the guests would be seeing who could wear the finest attire, a game which didn’t interest him.
After their lengthy session with the stylist, the two departed to the entry hall to await the Autokrateira. Florentia appeared, dressed in a matching navy blue gown. Specially made at her request, frills at the top of the gown wrapped around her left shoulder, exposing her right, as it fit to her form until reaching the floor as it offset at her left knee.
The wedding was a beautiful event. They were seated in somewhere in the middle near other cousins who had some distant relation to the groom. Security had been understandably tight at the event, much tighter than the more than adequate security that had been provided at the Villa Ammuriani that Romulus had rented for the event. He had brought no more than five of his Japhic Guard. This was certainly the last place anyone would try anything. The Basilica of the Blessed Virgin to St. Maria distinctly reminded him of the Church of the The Blessed Savior in Aenonesos. Though not a Christian himself, his bride was an Alban Christian and he was sympathetic towards them as a result. He very much enjoyed examining the architecture of the many churches across Belisaria.
On the ride to the reception, he had firmly spoken to his son with regards to conduct. “Herak, you are going to be of the majority age soon. You represent our nation just as much as I do. You may have some wine but I will have you escorted back to the Villa if I see any drunkenness. Am I clear? His Majesty did you a great favor by making exception for your attendance to his wedding.”
Herakleios had reacted as any teenager might, with an annoyed look on his face that he could hardly conceal. “Yes father, I know. I am grateful to His Majesty for allowing me to attend. I will be on my best behavior”, he stated while trying his best not to sound patronizing. He failed somewhat but Rom let it slide with a half smile.
“I do not know if anyone your age will be present for the reception but try to enjoy yourself. This is the first time of many that you are attending a significant foreign held event. There are plenty of powerful people here equal to your station. Get out and meet some of your contemporaries. You will be working with many of them in your future, I am sure.” He turned his gaze towards his wife who was sitting in the captain’s chair. “Will your father be in attendance, Flor?”
“He will, along with Minicea,” Florentia nodded with a loving smile, referring to her own step-mother. “I don’t believe mother was invited, unfortunately. Though your father is right, sweetheart,” she turned to her son, “though Constantine has a younger sister only a few months older than you. You recall Princess Olivia, don’t you? So you’re not alone as the only little one.”
Herakleios wrinkled his brow, thinking back to the time he spent in Latium. “I remember Olivia. I wasn’t sure how far the age limits extended but I guess it makes sense that Constantine wouldn’t exclude his own family from his wedding even if they are children.”
Arrival at the reception went off without incident. Arriving slightly early was always to Romulus’ taste as those who worked with him knew. When he began to take over more of his responsibilities in his early twenties, the Council of Nine would have friendly competitions over who could arrive the earliest to an event while not being unfashionably early. Thankfully, these had eased over the years. He never put a stop to them though they were annoying. They were seated in the beautifully decorated banquet hall. Romulus had always been fascinated with architecture and he took a moment to take in the hall itself before turning to regard the guests.
He spotted Richard of Ghant in one corner of the building, probably harassing someone or doing something unsavory. Louis, current ruler of Vannois, was fraternizing with a large group. The bride and groom were in the company of numerous well wishers. Romulus felt slightly out of his element here. He knew that the vast majority of these people were related in some way. He had relations with only a few in the room. His mother was a descendant of Nathan III of Ghant, a fact he was sure wasn’t lost to some of these people here.
The first course arrived in due time, which was more like a full meal, and the wine flowed freely. The first two dances were observed, between the bride and her father and the bride and groom, and then the socialite portion of the event began. Romulus was about to rise and greet some of his contemporaries when he noticed a finely dressed gentlemen approaching the table that turned out to be none other than his father-in-law. He extended his hand as Constantine Bellienus, 4th Lord of Durocortorum, reached his table.
“Father, it’s so good to see you. It feels like it’s been too long”, he exclaimed with a smile. He very much liked his father-in-law.
“Far too long, Romulus,” Bellienus shook his son-in-law’s hand with a proud smile. The Lord of Durocortorum was in his mid-50s now, with a stern, but still comely face on a noble, tall frame, and sported a full beard. He embraced his daughter next, while she gave him a kiss on the cheek, before he tousled Herakleios’s hair.
“Grandfather, it’s good to see you. It feels like forever ago since we’ve been here”, Herakleios said with a smile, feeling a tinge of teenage annoyance at his grandfather tousling his hair like a child. He was quite proud of himself for not letting it show.
“Ah it has, hasn’t it? We’ll have to drag you this far north a bit more, or perhaps I should come visit more even,” Bellienus asked Herakleios rhetorically. “But you’re here now and that’s all that matters,” he smiled to the boy and added with a laugh, “Do you have your eye on any young ladies out there? I see you looking around the hall.”
“Papa, please don’t,” Florentia laughed along at her father’s remark. “There’s plenty of time for that later on.”
Herakleios looked down at his feet for a moment, his face tinting pink. “Well… I … don’t really have any in mind at the moment but maybe ….”
Romulus saved his son from further embarrassment by changing topics to something more general. “How have things been in Latium, father? It’s not often I get to come here. I haven’t really visited since the signing of the Accords. We followed last year’s events with great interest. I trust you and your house came through unscathed?”
“The Senate is a mess as always, you’d think that fool Pompilius and the numbers he has would be able to bring some sort legislative agenda forward, but it’s all a load of excuses,” Bellienus caught himself before he neared a rant. “Last year? Oh yes, all of that nonsense. You know, I hear some call it the ‘Brothers War,’ and if they call it a war, I’m not sure what they’d think when there’s actual fighting,” he explained, “As you know, my main estate is near Ravenna, so there was the odd army marching through about a year back, but, I mean really, things weren’t as dire as I think some made them out to be. In my humble opinion anyway.”
“Didn’t you and Minicea head for your villa near Leonopolis last November?” Florentia eyed her father with an almost teasing suspicion.
Bellienus looked to Herakleios with a grin and pointed to Florentia, “This one makes sure you can’t get away with anything doesn’t she?”
Herakleios feigned annoyance and rolled his eyes. “Argios could be five times bigger and mother would still know everyone there, who they were with, and what they were doing. Nothing slips past her.”
Romulus nearly spit his wine with laughter, barely getting the glass down on the table and swallowing the contents of his mouth before he laughed heartily. “That she would, Herak. I can barely keep up with who is coming and going but somehow, Florentia manages to keep up with five children and a court full of grown men who behave like children.”
“The children are actually easier to handle than court, if you can believe it,” Florentia laughed along with the others, affectionately placing a hand on her husband’s arm. Then she teased, “Though someone has to keep everyone in line.”
Romulus returned the gesture, placing a hand on her shoulder and turning back to his father-in-law. “It seems we aren’t too well known around here. I haven’t been bombarded with other guests like the table of the Latin Empress,” he said with a laugh.
“Trust me, everyone here knows who you are. Your mistake was comparing yourself to Diana Augusta, if you don’t mind my saying,” Bellienus chimed in with a light laugh. “Few come close to her reputation and popularity in these lands. I don’t remember the last time I saw her, before her son died at least.”
Romulus frowned slightly. “Yes, sad news that. I was certainly sorry to hear about Jason to be sure.” At that point, his eye caught the site of a purple military uniform entering the doors to the hall. “Excuse me father, I spotted the guest of honor and I intend to catch him before he is surrounded by well wishers again.”
At the opposite end of the ballroom, the Latin Emperor, Constantine XX, was walking across the floor, possibly towards his own table, or towards his new wife. He occasionally was stopped by others as he walked on or stopped on his own to greet his guests. As Romulus and Herakleios approached, Constantine was free of any other conversation and upon reaching him, Romulus said, “Your Majesty, I wanted to congratulate you on a beautiful ceremony.”
Seemingly caught off guard, Constantine turned to face the pair of Tarsans and once he recognized them smiled. “Thank you very much, Your Majesty. I’m glad you could both make it, and Florentia as well,” he extended a hand to shakes Romulus’s, followed by Herakleios’s. “I hope you’re enjoying things so far.”
Romulus gripped his hand firmly and smiled as he shook the hand of Herakleios. “It was a beautiful ceremony, Your Majesty, and the spread available at this reception is marvelous.”
Herakleios shook Constantine’s hand a little more vigorously than one might consider normal. “Your Majesty, I am pleased to be in attendance. Thank you for permitting me to celebrate this occasion with you.”
“Thank you again,” he said to Romulus, turning to Herakleios to add, “And of course.” He took pause for a moment before stating, “Well, if there’s anything you need, feel free to ask any of the staff or security, and again, please enjoy your night.”
Romulus nodded his head. “I trust everything is well? I was certainly hoping we would get off without incident from a certain Ghantish Prince.” He left the rest of his thoughts unspoken. It was no secret who his mother was and the history of time he had spent in the Gentry court.
Constantine rose an eyebrow as he gave Romulus a curious look. “That matter on the dance floor a few moments ago?” he asked rhetorically before adding, “Everything’s fine. There should be plenty of room for you to share a dance with the Autokrateira,” he finished with a polite smile.
Romulus nodded in return. “Of course, I think that is a splendid idea. There are certainly enough people vying for our attention in this world. Congratulations, again.” He finished his departure pleasantries and returned to the table with Herakleios in tow while Constantine went elsewhere.
“Well, Flor, what do you say we have a dance?” It feels like forever since we’ve had time to dance. Herak, perhaps you see a lady here that you may want to dance with?” Romulus said with a smile, prodding his son in the back with a finger.
Herakleios blushed slightly. “Well, I suppose.”
Romulus turned towards his bride and stretched out his hand for her to take and turned to look at his father-in-law. “It’s been a great time catching up,father. We are here for two more days after the wedding. Come by the Villa Ammuriani tomorrow and let’s have a meal together so we can catch up more thoroughly.”
Florentia rose from her seat, planting a kiss on her father’s cheek. As she took Romulus’s hand, she added, “Yes, please do, father. Bring the whole family, there is more than enough space for a nice get together.”
“I just may,” Bellienus smiled to his daughter and Romulus.
“Shall we?” Florentia then smiled to Romulus.
“Indeed we shall.” He led her away towards the dance floor, hand in hand.
“A Wolf or a Sheep?”
Romulus
Palatium Supranio
Adrianople
Julia Caligula sat quietly in a corner of the wedding sipping from the wine glass she had been nursing as she quietly observed the event. If this were Ghish, she would certainly be more at home. The power structure in the Ghantish Court were well known to her since she had spent many days there as a child with her mother. She was less familiar with the Latin court and it was her style to observe in this situation. Picking out power players was generally something she was good at. It was in how they moved and the people that naturally flocked to them.
She took another sip of wine before raising her glass and motioning to a servant for more. The wine was nice but hardly as nice as she was used to. ”I wonder if the couple is drinking this, as well. I certainly wouldn’t be if I were in that position. Then again, Constantine seems like too much of a Próskopoi to run his court as heavy handed as he should.” She had always looked up to Cassandra of Ghant as a child who was six years her senior and in many ways, someone she sought to emulate.
Everyone who spent any time in Ghish knew that Cassandra, not her cousin, drove the happenings there. That was mostly because of Nathan’s obsession with women that some people perceived as a sign of his ineptitude. She had dreamed of filling the role of influence in Argios and had begun to implement her own schemes to get that way. It had all been going well until she had slept with that Sentios boy and attempted to blackmail him. His father had went to her elder brother immediately and had forced her to give up the video evidence and destroy it. She knew better than to challenge her brother.
From that moment on, her brother had come up with a list of reasons to keep her away. She was suspicious that her successful modelling career had been started with his money. He had given her the Villa Sakari in Zakros and she had been granted use of a family owned aircraft to travel with. She wasn’t technically banned from court but that bastard of an empress her brother had married had the servants reporting on her to such a degree that she couldn’t refill her wine glass without her brother knowing.
She had given up on her home country after that and turned her gaze north. She eyed her most recent prize, Prince Phillippe of Lycanestria, sitting with his family. He was young but he was over fifteen and could consent. He wasn’t first in line, of course, but he was the most impressionable member of her list of influential princes and thought with his little head rather than his larger one. That was fine with her, she could work with someone like that. She was jarred out of her thoughts by the familiar sight of her nephew awkwardly making his way through the crowd. He was almost as awkward as his father had been.
She had observed long enough and it was time to enter the festivities for herself. She got up and quickly made to cut her nephew off. He glanced at her warily as she approached, surprise registering on his face. “Julia, I never expected you to be here”, he said with the familiar teenage awkwardness of thinking before he spoke.
She smiled tightly. “Why is that, nephew? Surely you don’t think I’d miss a marriage of two of the oldest houses in high society.”
He became flustered at her challenging tone, betraying his youth and inexperience in statecraft. “Well... I just thought if Uncle Nikephoros wasn’t in attendance, surely you wouldn’t be.”
He made it easy for her, though he was barely fourteen. She almost felt bad for goading a fourteen year old but this was her brother’s heir and her brother was the one who made sure her influence at court had been cut off. “You think my reputation is less than that of my dear brother? Despite the number of people here, this was a fairly exclusive event. I doubt he was invited.”
Herakleios seemed to get a bit more nervous and annoyed while looking around slowly for an escape. She was very good at making other people uncomfortable when she wanted to. “Well, honestly, yes aunt I do think that most of the people in this room think more highly of Nikephoros than they would of you”, he stated petulantly, dropping all pretense of courtesy.
She smiled a wide smile, always ever joyous when she made some house trained noble drop the mask of court courtesy they always wore, even if it was her close family. “Well, dear nephew, I was invited and he was not. Make of that what you will.”
Herakleios gave her an annoyed look, obviously realizing what had happened. “Well, aunt, it was good to speak with you. I hardly see you at court anymore. I am going to sample some of the other refreshments and drinks.” He turned swiftly and made his way through the crowd. She looked after him with a slight sneer on her face. The little whelp didn’t deserve what his birth had given him. She continued to pick her way through the crowd. It was time to find someone truly worth speaking to.
