The Brothers War | IC (Closed)

[Lacus Magni]

Zoe
Villa d'Iulia Concordia
Utica, Latium

Southwestern Latium had been experiencing a brutal heatwave throughout the later months of summer and through to September. At times even being indoors did little to stop the sweltering weather. For most though, there was air conditioning or at the very least shade or the cover of night to cool them down. At Villa d’Iulia Concordia in countryside of county Karchidonia near Utica, members of the Verruscosi family had gathered to celebrate the late familial patriarch Felix Verruscosi, as they often did during the second week of September. Though the heat had caused the lawns and gardens of the estate to be dotted with temporary tents, fans and covers.

All generations of the ever growing and prosperous Verruscosi family were in attendance at the large palatial estate hosted by Zoe Verruscosi. She was the only daughter and youngest child of Felix and his wife Lady Lyanna Vitruvia. For the last week, Zoe had been shouting orders at her servants and staff around her estate in order to prepare the home for the heavy influx of guests, which include her mother, siblings, nieces and nephews and hopefully her own children - Constantine, Michael and Selene, if God was good.

The first day of the festivities saw her brother John and his wife Flavia arrive with their youngest child. As the day progressed, some Zoe’s adult nieces and nephews began to arrive and finally just before dusk her mother, Lyanna, arrived. Zoe had wanted to hold off on serving supper until her own children arrived, but John insisted that it would be “ill advised to make mother wait.” It wasn’t until an hour after their light supper that her brother Florentine finally arrived, having flown in from Saint-Nazaire.

Later that night Zoe found herself relaxing in the drawing room with glass of wine after most of the others had retired to their rooms. She reclined comfortably, supported by pillows, on an ornate sofa with white cushioning and gold trimmings just to the right of a fireplace, as the lights above only dimly illuminated the room.

On a nearby table, old photo albums had been stacked in no particular order. Zoe, her mother, and occasionally her sister-in-laws, had always set time aside during large family gatherings to reminisce over the older photos. Zoe, in particular, always enjoyed seeing the photographs of her father, a man who predeceased her birth by nearly five months in 1973. He was a simple man, a kind, genuine and strong soul, “one that could have only been nurtured among the common folk,” her mother used to say whenever Zoe asked about him. Though all her life, others had told her that her father, Felix, was one of Latium’s greatest - feared among the political elite, the nobility and beloved and accepted by the commoners as one of their own.

Resting upon her lap, however, was a newer and more colorful photo album. The page it was opened to showed a photograph of two little, brown haired boys and an even smaller blonde haired girl seated between them. The three imperial children all looked over the end of the yacht and behind them was Zoe. She was younger then, perhaps twenty-five, smiling with her three children as they all looked on towards the blue water. This was just before the divorce, she thought as she ran her fingers over the page, closing her eyes to imagine the joy seeing all three of her children smiling in their youth.

She continued to flip through the pages of the photo album, coming across the occasional family portrait. On one occasion, Zoe came across a family portrait that included her ex-husband, Jason VI Augustus. She bit her lip, and removed the photo from the book without so much of a thought, placing it face down on the floor. On the next page, she came across photos of Michael’s secondary school commencement.

Then there was a light knock at the slightly ajar door; it frightened Zoe, though she only let out a weak sigh and carefully turned to see who or what was there. “All holed up in here again? You know mother was looking for you. She’s worried you know,” it was her brother, Florentine. He was the closest of her siblings in age to her, yet still nearly fifteen years her elder. He resembled their father in appearance, with piercing blue eyes, greying hair and a stoic demeanor, and though he was bulkier than some, Florentine was more lean than their father ever appeared. He crossed the room, stopping near the window panes where two bottles of wine sat. He picked each up and inspected their labels - one of which was empty. “Is this all you have? I hardly took you for a fan of Ulcisia red.”

Zoe closed the open photo album, though not before marking the page she had left on before her brother interrupted. She looked to her left, where Florentine stood inspecting the wine. But before speaking, she turned her attention forward at the unlit fireplace. “I can just as easily call for something else…” Zoe’s voice trailed off as she stared at the fireplace, listening to the sound of her brother’s footsteps against the hardwood floors. “... and mother always worries, it’s nothing new.”

“Can you? Anything but Ulcisia should be fine. Maybe something from Obulco if you have it,” Florentine finally came around to Zoe’s couch and pushed her legs off of the cushion to make a seat for himself. Florentine let go a sigh of relief, allowing his head to fall back and rest against the couch once he finally sat. “Zoe? Zoe?”

Zoe shook her head, snapping out of whatever trance she had been in. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“Could you have one of the staff bring something from Obulco,” Florentine repeated with his head facing the ceiling.

Without saying a word, Zoe rose from and rounded the couch, making her way across the room to a phone. “Hello...yes. A bottle of Obuclo 1944. Yes, drawing room,” she said to the staffer on the other end of the phone just before hanging up. As she walked back to her seat on the couch, she rolled the sleeve of her navy blue blouse to the middle of her forearm. Once she found her seat, she brought her legs onto the couch and curled them beneath her powder blue, floral skirt.

“What’s wrong, Vulpecula?” Florentine turned to his sister, spreading his arms out over the back of the couch. Vulpecula had been the oldest and most popular of the nicknames she had been given by her brothers over the years. They always told her it was a term of endearment, that she was just as clever and wily as a little fox. Zoe had a differing opinion of the name, however. She always took the name to be insulting or simply her brother’s acting dismissively towards her.

Zoe sat there with pursed lips and her head tilted. She reached for her glass of Campona red, sipping lightly from the glass before responding to her brother. “They were supposed to be here today...the children,” she held on to glass of wine, resting it on her legs.

“Were they? I had heard that Jason had been planning some grand event in Alba. The children, Empress Diana, even Isabella and her children. Oh, that Isabella let me tell you...” Florentine mentioned offhandedly, nearly drifting off topic before stopping to show his sister a smile. “But I suppose that’s not public knowledge.”

“He what?” Zoe turned to face her brother so carelessly that she nearly spilled her glass of wine all over the couch and even herself. “Why would he do that? He knows that the children always visit this time of year to celebrate father. That was part of the agreement. He can’t keep them from me, he can’t.”

“I can’t imagine he was acting with malice, but I don’t know, sister. I’m only telling you what my friends in the Senate have told me. And they don’t know much, especially not the why of it all,” Florentine slid up his sleeve and inspected his watch. The door creaked open again, though without a knock. “It’s about time with that wine.”

“Apologies, my Lady...and my Lord,” the dainty female household staff member said, holding onto a bottle of Obuclo 1944. To her side was the eldest of the legitimate Verruscosi siblings; he was of a similar height to Florentine, though thinner than his younger brother. “Your brother, John, is also here to see you, my Lady.”

“Wine over here, thank you,” Florentine waved to the girl carrying the bottle of wine, pointing down at the side table near the couch. The household employee poured Florentine a glass, then set the bottle down before exiting the room. “Johnny boy, good to see you finally. Take a load off, mother was telling me you’re working non-stop lately. Zoe hasn’t been too much trouble on the board has she?”

“None at all. If anything our sweet sister keeps them in line like father would have,” John smiled, kissing his younger sister on the head as he passed by and found a seat in a nearby chair. He took a quick look at Zoe, but continued his chat with Florentine. “Saint-Nazaire treating you well?”

My dear brothers, always concerned of work and nothing more...no even their own sister, Zoe rolled her eyes while her brother kept rattling about work - even Florentine’s new position as High Commissioner of the Southern Belisarian Community - but nothing worth any of Zoe’s time. She quickly emptied her glass of wine, and went to pour another glass. They always ignore me when they’re together. It’s like they don’t even care about how I feel or that my children - their niece and nephews - are being taken from me by their wretched father. Off in her own thoughts, Zoe was looking through the window towards the city of Utica as she felt the wine pour over the rim her glass and onto her hand and the table below. “Shit”

“Are you alright over there?” John said through some laughter. She could even hear Florentine laughing as well; it didn’t make her feel any better.

Zoe looked around for something to clean the wine up with, yet all she could find in her vacinity was a newspaper from days ago . At least it missed me, she picked up the phone instead and called to one of the household staff. “I spilled some wine. Mhmm yes, thank you.”

“You spilled? Too much to drink already? It’s not even 10:00, Vulpecula,” John added once again with another laugh from each of her brothers. Any other day she would have thrown a snarky comment back at them, but she just didn’t have the will for it tonight. She simply sighed as she waited for the housekeeper to come clean up the mess.

Zoe’s slender body leaned against the wall closest to the mess as some of the wine began to drip from the table down to the wood floor. Moment later the staff girl re-entered the room, along with man wearing similar clothing who held cleaning supplies. “It’s over here,” Zoe pointed at the dripping wine. The youngest Verruscosi sibling slowly walked back to her seat at the couch with her brothers as a cell phone began to ring. It was only the one phone at first, then another until the phone on the wall rang.

The three siblings all shared a puzzled look with one another before Zoe directed the female housekeeper to answer the phone. “Yes…It’s for you, my Lady,” the young girl told Zoe as John and Florentine looked on in confusion. “Regarding the Emperor.”

“No,” Zoe waved her arms in protest. She ignored the girl holding the phone out for her, sitting with crossed legs and facing the fireplace. “Tell him I’m busy, Xene. I don’t want to talk to him.”

“Lady Verruscosi is indisoposed at the moment, may I take a message? ...Oh...oh Lord...yes I’ll inform her immediately,” Xene quickly ended the conversation with the caller. Zoe turned to face Xene afterwards, turning her body sideways on the couch to hear the message as John and Florentine restarted their discussion, not having checked their phones yet. Zoe was waiting for the Greek girl to begin explaining the message, though the girl looked lost for words.

“Well?” Zoe held her hands out, almost appearing upset that the girl was apprehensive to share the message. Florentine pulled his phone from his suit jacket pocket.

“It’s the uh...uh the Emperor, my Lady. He’s...” Xene continued to struggle on the words before Florentine interrupted her.

“Jesus Christ...he’s dead,” Florentine blurted out after finally having looked at his missed calls and text messages.

Zoe’s face shifted to a look of complete jubilation, one which she didn’t even bother to veil in the slightest. Without hesitation the brother spoke the same phrase in unison, following it with a drink of their wine, “The Emperor is dead. Long live the Emperor.”

However, Zoe only spoke half of the phrase. “Long live the Emperor,” she said with the largest grin any in the room had likely ever seen, then she emptied her entire glass.

“If you’ll excuse us, my dear,” John rose from his seat and strongly suggested both housekeepers leave, even going as far to guide them to the door. The two took the hint and left the three siblings alone, causing John to question the events. “Dead? That’s...that’s unexpected. He was what, all of fifty-two?”

“He was an ass,” Zoe smirked, savoring the moment as much she could. “I’m glad he’s dead. The world’s better off without him and Constantine as Emperor.”

“Don’t be overdramatic, Vulpecula,” Florentine shook his head disapprovingly.

“The man’s dead. And however much you may hate him, your children just lost their father,” John added as his phone continued to ring, which he quickly answered and turned away from Zoe.

“Overdramatic? After all the insults he’s dealt to me...to our family, you dare call me overdramatic?” Zoe shouted at her brothers. “That wretched man has treated me like dirt since the moment I met him. He hurt me more than I ever thought possible and all because I wasn’t his precious Stephanie. Fuck him.”

“Constantine is far too young for this right now,” Florentine ignored Zoe’s feelings on the matter, only thinking of the government. Even John was still on the phone with whomever it was that called him this time. Typical. Even now they don’t side with their own blood,, she thought. “He’s not ready for it yet, a few more years at least would have done him some good.”

“My son - your nephew - is more than capable of handling affairs of state, far more than that lecher who just died ever was,” Zoe continued to shout at her brothers for not carrying of her feelings. “He’s been preparing for it all his life and he…”

“Of course,” Florentine eventually addressed his sister’s concerns. “We know Jason wasn’t kind to you. And we’re fully aware of how that has affected us all, but now is not the time, Zoe.”

“Zoe,” John interrupted his sister’s hate fueled tirade. “There have been gunshots at the palace. Constantine has left with everyone but Michael.”

“What?” Zoe’s jubilation over Jason’s death receded and turned into fear for the lives of her children. “Are they alright? John, my children...what’s happened? Was Selene with him?”

Florentine leaned forward with a sigh, resting his head in his hands. “I need to call the Consul immediately,” he said in a stressful tone, rising from his seat on the couch next to his sister. He stood next to the fireplace with his phone to his ear, presumably waiting for the Consul to pick up on the other end.

“Then you need to get back to Saint-Nazaire. Get the Council to meet…” John ordered his brother.

“One of you answer me. For God’s sake,” Zoe shouted in the hopes he would give more than a dismissive look. “What’s happened?”

“Something about a Scholarian plot,” Florentine pulled away from his phone for a brief moment. “...and Michael.”

Both of her brothers were in the middle of conversations on their cell phones, Florentine speaking quickly and quietly focused on his with his back turned to Zoe. While John at least acknowledged her concerns, all he did was raise a finger to order her to wait and be quiet. “You two are ridiculous,” Zoe rushed to the house phone in the room. “Yes, Xene. Prepare my bags and see that the plane is prepared for flight to Castellum.” She hung up the phone and proceeded to rush towards the door.

Before she could reach it, John dropped his phone and stepped in to block her path. “You will do such thing,” he said authoritatively, placing a hand on her shoulder. Does he think he is father now? “Nobody is going anywhere until we know what’s going on. I won’t allow my sister to walk into an unknown and possibly life threatening...”

“Get your hands off of me,” she hit her brother’s hand away, even rearing her own back to slap him. But before she could strike her brother, he grabbed her hand. “Let go of me,” she shouted at her eldest brother, “I need to help them...my children...I need to protect them. They need me,” she began to cry and slowly fell to her feet once it became clear her brother wouldn’t budge.

For his part, John tried his best to lower her down slowly and softly. As Zoe gave up her fight, Florentine soon joined and helped Zoe over to the couch where she laid as her brothers continued to converse without her - even blocking her only means of exit. After a few moments John left the room, with Florentine walking over to Zoe.

She lifted herself to a seated position by the time her brother reached her, clearing tears from her cheeks. “I need to get to my children,” she told her brother. “You need to get out of my way, Florentine.”

“No, you want to get to them. What you need to do is stay put,” Florentine took her hand. “Here’s what we know so far. Jason’s dead. A gunfight erupted on the Hill, and Constantine has fled with nearly the whole family including his Praetorians. Selene, we think, is in the capital still. All the while, Michael remains in the capital at the head of a number of Scholarians. If we move quickly enough, maybe we can get lucky and avert any potential conflict. But Zoe…”

“Let me talk to them. Please,” she continued to cry, only thinking of her children. “Michael will listen to me. I know he will, he’s a good boy. If you just...”

Florentine only smiled to his sister, letting go of her hand and brushing her hair back before kissing her forehead and standing when the door opened. Zoe could tell it was John again from the sound of his footsteps. He coughed before speaking. “Ahem. Zoe, you know Centurion Menas Fabricius of Fifteenth Legion?”

“Yes I damn well know who he is, brother. What is he doing here?” Zoe snapped at John, who only showed indignation at her response.

“He is here to make sure you don’t try to do something foolish like go to Castellum or Adrianople,” John informed his sister as he and young Latin military officer were joined by Florentine at the door.

“So now it’s foolish to care for the livelihood of one’s children?” Zoe snorted and turned away from her brothers and the officer.

“No, what’s foolish is you wishing to put your own life in such danger when things are so uncertain. Trust me when I say this is for your own good,” John told her.

“Oh I trust you alright,” Zoe said sarcastically, followed by a wave of her hand. “Go on now, leave me be with my babysitters.”

Without a word, John stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind him. “Give us a minute, Menas,” Florentine whispered to the officer in Greek. Seconds later the door opened and closed again, with Florentine approaching the back the couch where Zoe sat.

“He thinks he’s my father now, does he?” Zoe shook her head. “It’s not enough that you two are nothing but dismissive of me, now you lock me up in my own home when my children need me most. I can help, you know I can.”

“It was my idea, not John’s,” Florentine placed a hand on Zoe’s shoulder.

“I expected this out of him, but never you.”

“What do you think is going to happen if you arrive in Castellum? Michael throws you a parade and you some how convince him and Constantine to talk this out. Zoe...that’s not Michael. If you go to Castellum or to Constantine for that matter, do you really think they’d ever let you leave again?”

“You don’t know them like I do, especially Michael. I’m his mother, and he’s my sweet little boy, he’ll listen to me...I know he will,” she brushed a tear away from her eye and took a deep breath. “How do you think they’ll react when they discover their mother is being held against her will by traitorous members of the armed forces? Do you think they’ll be pleased by the treatment of their mother? Think about that before you do this to me.”

“No. But at the end of this all, I know they’ll be glad that their mother is still alive,” Zoe shook her brother’s hand off her shoulder once he finished speaking. Her ears followed his footsteps until they halted at the door. “I hope you’ll forgive me one day, Vulpecula.”

From that day in mid September until early December, Zoe remained in her home near Utica under the protection of Centurion Fabricius. On occasion her sons would reach out to her. Constantine asking her to speak with Michael, pleading with her to talk sense into him or at the very least agree to set up a meeting between them. And Michael simply demanded that she come to Castellum where she “would be safe.” Each time she would have to give each of the boys the same answer, that she was doing her best. I hated lying to them.

But as the the fall turned into winter and early December was upon Latium, it became increasingly clear that Michael was failing in his attempt to claim Latium. Word had reached Utica that Michael’s forces in Ravenna had defected to Constantine’s cause, that the battle near Kallipolis was finally coming to an end in Constantine’s favor, and Florentine even mentioning to her the rumors of a joint Ghanto-Vannoisian force marching through the countryside - on top of all the other foreigners wandering about the south-central countryside.

Her brothers occasionally dropped in to check on her, John’s visits were more frequent while Florentine’s were less and less as the he claimed the “burdens of his job and the crisis make travel difficult and ill advised.” On his last visit, John told her that he was going to speak with the Mayor of Utica, county councillors and even the Lord-Lieutenant of Karchidonia, John Sulpicius, 4th Lord of Utica. The group of local leaders had been convinced to remain neutral throughout the crisis, with the exception of the Lord-Lieutenant who was quick in offering his support to Constantine and the Senate - most likely after brief pleading from his whore daughter, Senator Alexandra Sulpicia.

“I can’t keep them neutral forever, and things are rapidly coming to an end,” Zoe recalled her brother John saying. “We’re going to meet, and it’s been agreed that the local governments of the south and west will be declaring for Constantine immediately. Centurion Fabricius will be leaving and I’ve arranged for local police to handle your safety.” But it was of no consequence, Zoe had little desire to speak with either of her brothers and simply sat quietly while he spoke to her - excusing herself at the first moment he allowed.

Since that day John informed her of the decision of the Utican and nearby local governments to support Constantine, she had heard from neither of her sons - and most worryingly hadn’t heard a thing from Selene except for the random bit of news from Michael a month prior. And he’s lying...a mother can always tell. What was even more surprising when the police chief from Utica arrived at her estate flanked by ten men - Praetorians by the look of their uniforms.

“My Lady,” the police chief removed his uniform cap and bowed his head once Zoe entered the room they’d been waiting for her in. He smiled to Zoe and stepped aside for the Praetorians to speak.

“My Lady, under the direct orders of His Imperial Majesty The Emperor, we are to remain here for your protection until such a time the capital becomes safe for you to travel,” one of the Praetorians told her.

“We don’t need the formalities, Beneficiarius,” Zoe addressed the Praetorian by his rank. “We all know he is my son.”

“Of course, my Lady,” the Praetorian Beneficiarius nodded his head. “As I said, your son gave us explicit orders to take over your security as we prepare for capital to be made ready for the travels of government and various other VIPs.”

“Very well, I’ll see that the staff makes the necessary accommodations for you and your men.” Other than a guard shadowing her every move inside the home and around the estate, this was the only conversation Zoe had with Constantine’s Praetorians for the next few days.

That was until she heard the news she always knew was coming, but had ignored and dreaded since the moment her two sons began this pointless conflict. On that day she had been breaking her fast alone in the gardens of the estate. The Praetorian Beneficiarius was the one to break the news of the death of her son, Michael. “...De...dead, are you sure?” her whole body shook after hearing the news.

“Aye, I mean, yes, my Lady. Prince Leo sent word to His Majesty across a secure channel so that your family could be made aware before the RAL released the information.”

“That bastard boy killed my sweet baby boy, didn’t he?” Zoe snapped at the Praetorian through all of her tears, angry at the thought of Michael being killed by the bastard Gentry. The Praetorian looked confused for a moment until it registered in his tiny mind who this bastard she was referring to was.

He explained that Michael had been discovered dead during the palace raid late that previous night and that more information would be passed along as it was received. She demanded to be taken to Castellum no less than five times throughout the discussion; however the guard flatly refused her repeated demands as they were “counter to the Emperor’s orders.” And that they wouldn’t move to the capital until the Emperor said it was ready.

“I’m terribly sorry for you loss, my Lady,” the Praetorian bowed before walking away and leaving Zoe to her tears.

For the remainder of the day, and even the next, Zoe remained holed up in her private rooms. She refused to answer her phone, answer her door when Praetorians knocked, and refused to eat when food was brought to her. The one time she allowed anyone entrance within those first thirty-six hours was to have her staff bring up the old photo albums. It wouldn't be long until the Praetorians arrived and told her it was time to travel. But until then, she was content to sit alone and look at the old photos of her smiling, perfect children. Anything to see their smiles again.

---

Alexander Pompilius
78 Via Maria Augustae
Adrianople

Since the Emperor had left city for the road and later Castellum, the Consul and top elected government officials remained in Adrianople. The Cabinet had been called to the Consul’s residence - with the Emperor’s approval - for a series of top secret discussion on the events transpiring in Castellum and the various contingencies should . Thankfully, there was no battle in the city aside from the raid against the Palace of Augustus and most of those contingencies were no longer of any use. Instead, the Cabinet began to prepare their plans for restabilization and any reconstruction that was required. That, of course, involved a proposal from Consul Pompilius to ask the Emperor for snap elections. It was a plan which was not received with the unwavering support Pompilius had hoped to have; however, a brief fight was expected. By the end of the meeting, they agreed to table the discussion until the situation in the capital became more clear.

The Consul arrived back at his temporary residence after the meeting, finding his wife in his study. “How did it go?”

“About as well as expected, the seed is planted though,” the Consul laid his overcoat on the back of his desk chair, resting his briefcase atop the desk. “Alexandra agreed to whip the more reluctant ones into order. I’m not concerned.”

“Are you sure you can trust her?” Sophia asked her husband.

Alexander opened his briefcase as his wife spoke, removing a few folders and feeling his pockets for his glasses. He opened one of the folders and answered his wife. “Hmm, not especially. But with this she’ll think she’s earning my trust or favor and that has its own benefits. She has her uses, especially in the upcoming general.”

“Maybe as a whore she does. Do you think those rumors are true...of her and the Emperor?” his wife sniggered and flipped a page of the book in her lap. Though her husband didn’t answer. “Alexander?”

“Sophia, I don’t have time to gossip. If that’s what you want to do, go bother Anna or one of her little friends. God knows that’s all they’ve been interested in since the boy asked to marry her,” he slid into the seat behind his desk with his eyes fixated on the papers in front of him. He picked up his phone and pressed a number. “Secure line, please. The Master of Soldiers Office.”

“Has he agreed to set a date yet?” she asked her husband, ignoring his wishes to be left alone to his work.

Alexander let out a sigh and hung his head. “Just a minute,” he said into the phone. “No, he hasn’t. He left for the capital before we could discuss that topic.”

“The moment we arrive in Castellum I want a date set and I want it to be soon. I don’t trust him, he’s seemed extremely apprehensive since he agreed. We deserve this...our daughter deserves it,” Sophia closed her book and walked over to the front of her husband’s desk. “He didn’t even say goodbye to her before he left, how is that any way for him to treat her? She was devastated.”

“...I’m sure that’s what she wanted him to believe. Whether or not she actually was is another matter,” he leaned back in his chair, growing impatient with his wife’s concerns. “We’ll deal with it in time, so don’t worry about it. I know better than you how to deal with these Imperials. Now, I have the Master of Soldiers waiting here, Sophia, surely whatever else you have to say can wait until after.”

“You’d better hope that’s the case because from where I stand it looks like an overconfident plebeian is making a mistake,” his wife snorted and backed away from the desk. “You should have forced a date on him the moment you ‘agreed’ to let him marry our daughter.”

The Consul rolled his eyes and spoke into the phone, “Tell him just another moment.” He placed the call on hold and hung it up until his wife was finished. “You know, the sooner you stop making a fuss over nothing and the sooner I end this call, we’ll be on our way to the capital and I can nag the boy until his ears fall off about when he and our daughter will marry. I’ll even lock myself into a room with him until I get an answer. Is that what you want to hear? Will that make you shut up? The boy lacks a certain cunning, he’s not his father or even his greatgrandfather. You’re jumping at ghosts that don’t exist.”

His voice was growing in anger and he began to talk more quickly now. “Now, I do not have the time for these petty concerns, Sophia, especially not from you. And I especially will not to sit here and allow you to lecture me the moment I walk in the door. Are we clear or was there something else?

Sophia bit her lip, taken aback by her husband’s snapping at her. “No, nothing else,” she stood up straight and crossed her arms defensively.

“Good. Now go make sure you and Anna are prepared to travel,” he went right back to what he was doing as if the conversation with his wife hadn’t even occurred. “Your Excellency, I am so sorry for the delay…”

[Lacus Magni]

Palace of Augustus
Castellum ab Alba
(Co-written with Ghant, Leasath and New Edom)

“Please lift your arms, Your Majesty,” one of Emperor Constantine’s dressers had asked him after latching the gold aiguillette, which wrapped from his right arm, to the upper chest of his navy blue military dress uniform. He lifted his arms, as instructed, while one staff member helping him dress walked a powder blue sash to the Emperor and his chief dresser. Another followed behind with a red sash of similar size.

Constantine faced the mirror for a glimpse of himself while the dressers continued to take their time handing off and walking each garment over to him. He dropped his arms after they had taken too long, but the lead dresser spoke again. “Your Majesty?” she looked at him, holding the first light blue sash. He lifted his arms after the sash had been placed over his left shoulder, underneath the ornamental epaulets. Afterwards she latched it the epaulet into place and wrapped the final red sash around his waist, tying it off on his right.

It felt like he had been getting dressed for hours, and it had quickly become one of his least favorite things about becoming Emperor. With the rest of his uniform in place, the staff began to affix four medals of Latium’s chivalric orders onto the right breast of his jacket. With his uniform nearly complete, the lead dresser raised the Sovereign's Grand Collar of the Order of the Golden Ram from its resting place on a nearby table. Simultaneously, there was a knock at the door that was followed by the entrance of Prince Leo.

Constantine turned to look at his cousin, but was corrected by the lead dresser and stood still and facing forward. “Do you remember how burdensome we thought it was to get dressed at Olympia?” he asked Leo, who was dressed similarly though without the chivalric orders or sashes and a smaller collar of the Order of the Golden Ram for the rank of Knight.

“Aye, and I finished getting ready nearly twenty minutes ago. I can’t even imagine how long you’ve been at it,” Leo laughed, stopping near the table where the lead dresser held the Sovereign's Grand Collar.

“Too long,” Constantine replied as the lead dresser went to place the grand collar around Constantine’s neck. Once she was done, he asked her and the rest of the staff to leave. Constantine stood still facing the mirror, as he had been for sometime now, waiting for the staff to leave the room. Leo stood near the table still, his right hand touching the white gloves that were situated along his belt.

“I heard you went to the crypt today?” Constantine picked up his own white gloves from the back of a nearby chair before turning to face his cousin.

“Aye, to pay my respects,” Leo leaned back to rest against the sturdy table. He put a hand over his heart for a moment, before placing it back on the table.

“That’s good...good,” Constantine nodded, letting out a labored sigh. “I saw Michael today, and I wasn’t quite sure what to expect when I saw him. They’d cleaned him up well enough I suppose, but it was uh...when I saw him...I felt nothing. Nothing at all. No anger, no sorrow, not hatred, not even love for my own brother. It was almost like it was a complete stranger they showed me. It wasn’t him, just a dead man who merely resembled him.”

Constantine tilted his head down for a brief second, quickly lifting it up again to look at his cousin. He shook his head, walking closer to Leo who pulled himself up from the table. “I never hated him though he was always difficult. And what he did,” Constantine paused for a moment to ponder on his choice of words.

“Well...when Santella returns we’ll know for sure, but I know he did it. Michael always hated father, and he hated you. Because you were more a brother to me than he ever was, more than he could have ever been,” Constantine placed a hand on Leo’s shoulder. “You were the brother I chose. You’re the only person I can trust.”

Leo looked down with pulled in lips, lifting his head and nodded a moment later. “There’s something I need to tell you...that you should know,” Leo began to speak before there was a knock at the door, drawing the attention of each man.

The Emperor of Ghant peered through the ensuing crack in the door. He was not nearly as richly dressed as his brother or his Latin counterpart, once again preferring a simple outfit of black slacks, tunic and cape with gold trim and embroidery, and his thick reddish-brown hair unruly despite being well brushed. He looked between the two others as he stuck his head through. “Oh...sorry, I hope I’m not interrupting anything. I figured I’d seek you guys out after I was done getting ready...otherwise I’d have had to hang out with all the women. Being doing enough of that for too long already,” he flashed a quick grin before returning to a straight face.

Leo paused at the sight of his brother, even stepping back from Constantine when Nathan became visible. “No, not at all,” Constantine waved Nathan into the room. He looked towards Leo, who seemed apprehensive to continue their previous conversation. “Please come in. I was just telling Leo how surprised I was at how long it takes to get dressed now.”

“It can wait,” Leo muttered to Constantine in Greek, the Latin Emperor nodding in reply. Leo turned to his brother and spoke jokingly, “Oh but surely the women couldn’t be sick of you yet. That’d be a real surprise.”

“...I think they were sick of me before we even crossed the border,” Nathan laughed as he entered the room. “Yeah...getting dressed is a pain. That’s why I usually do it myself, throw on something easy and comfortable. I don’t have to impress anyone...though I suppose you do. Don’t worry about that though, I’m here to help,” he said with a confident look as he rubbed the buttons on the front of his tunic.

“I can’t remember the last time I wore something comfortable for more than ten minutes,” Constantine laughed, adjusting the grand collar that sat around his neck. “But either way, I’m grateful for the help. The sooner it’s done, the sooner everything can get back to normal.”

“Aye, let’s hope they don’t try to act like they never did any wrong to us though,” Leo added with a nod. “How’s Thea been holding up? And Di?”

The Ghantish Emperor scratched his head, and told them that “they’ve been at the Palace with Sophia and Cassandra. Arietta came back to visit too...they’ve been doing alright, I’m told. They’re spoiled, so they shouldn’t have much cause for complaint,” he grinned.

“Good, they deserve to be spoiled after everything they’ve been though. Thea especially,” Leo nodded solemnly before leaning against the table with crossed arms.

Both Leo and Constantine remained silent for a time, though eventually Constantine spoke up. “How’s your room so far, Nathan? It’s been some time since you’ve been around these parts.”

“It’s been good,” the Emperor of Ghant replied. “I don’t need much, though it’s been nice to get back into a bed since the journey began. That’s a hell of a lot nicer than makeshift beds in tents and bedrolls.” Nathan looked around again and then added, “Don’t know about you guys but I’m hungry.”

“I think we all know the feeling,” Constantine looked at the clock. “It’s probably about that time then. We should probably get ready to meet the rest of my guests.”

“The sooner we get it done…” Leo muttered in Greek. Constantine lead the way out of the room, Leo following along after his own brother. Outside the door, the Latin Emperor’s Praetorians joined the group - two walking in front of them and two walking behind them.

They moved through the hallways of the palace towards the main entrance where they would meet Constantine’s guests. Along the way they would come across the grand dining hall and the adjoining waiting room. They came upon the rooms, which were marked by a marble bust of Leo X Augustus. Princess Maria was seen just around the bend, outside of the grand dining hall in a black court gown, powder blue sash that matched her brother’s, and dark brown hair falling past her shoulders.

“You three look like you’re up to no good,” the Princess smiled when she noticed Constantine, Leo and Nathan approach.

“It just comes natural,” Nathan said teasingly with a grin, while also noticing that his cousin Anastasia loomed not far from Maria.

Anastasia was wearing a smokey grey court gown with a black sash and like her Latin companion, long dark brown hair falling past her shoulders, long and straight. “I’d ask if we’re eating Burger Dux, but I think we all already know the answer to that…”

“Sister. Anastasia...” Constantine spoke to Maria first, giving her a brief hug before turning to Princess Anastasia with a smile. “You look very beautiful tonight...the both of you I mean.”

“Thank you, brother. You all look very handsome as well. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so regal, father would be proud of you,” Maria smiled back to her brother. “Though it might have been wise to shave perhaps.”

“...Yeah, I would have shaved,” Anastasia cocked a smirk. “But it will have to do, now won’t it?”

“I suppose it will,” Constantine smiled to Anastasia, hardly paying attention to the others.

“I’ll go fetch Marsella,” Leo looked to the two Princesses before entering the adjoined waiting room.

“I’ll go too,” seconded the Emperor of Ghant, who went after his younger half-brother, leaving Constantine with the princesses.

Princess Maria took a quick look around when the others were leaving to the adjoined room. She took in a deep breath, lifted her shoulders slightly with wide eyes. “You know what, I think I should probably join them. Excuse me,” Maria smiled before following Nathan and Leo into the room.

“I never was able to tell you how glad I was to see you again back in Cularo,” Constantine stepped a little closer to Anastasia, offering a small smile.

Anastasia gave him a coy look. “Why, you thought you’d never see me again?” she laughed. “I was never in any real danger. It was like a big road trip, really.”

The Latin Emperor smiled to her with a light laugh before his face turned more serious. “There was a time, not long ago, when I thought I wouldn’t. These last three months have been...hectic,” he tried to smile again.

“Well, I always had faith,” Anastasia patted Constantine on the shoulder, a grin still on her face. “And you’re still here. Which is good for me, because I’ll need you to show me the way to the feast hall.”

“Of course, but only so long as that’s all you need,” he teased her with a laugh. Constantine could hardly take his eyes off her as he went to push open the waiting room’s door. “It’s just right through here. Well this is where everyone is meeting at least, then we’ll be onto the hall and dinner after a bit of wine.”

Anastasia went in the indicated direction, and asked about the wine. “You know...I was just about to ask about the wine...I’ve sort of developed a wine fixation since arriving in Vannois. Keeps the nerves calm, that sort of thing,” she explained gingerly. “So I appreciate the invitation.”

“Wine is always plentiful in this part of Belisaria. And luckily Latin wine is some of the best in the world,” Constantine replied calmly. “Of course, you being here makes things seem more normal. So you’re always welcome here.”

She laughed raucously in response to that. “It’s funny that you say that...Theodora said the same thing when she got back to Ghish. I guess I’m everyone’s constant, huh? Maybe that’s why Cassandra sent me packing with Nathan’s foray.”

“Maybe,” Constantine smiled with pursed lips. “Whatever her reasons, I’m glad she did.”

Leo approached the pair soon after they entered the waiting room. Inside the lavish room, decorated with numerous tapestries along the walls and ornate furniture, a number of staff members walking about with drinks for the guests already in attendance. “Cousin,” Leo smiled weakly to Anastasia before looking to Constantine. “Looks like everyone is ready, including Marsella.”

The Dowager Empress Marsella walked in, dressed in a black gown with a teal sash, her shiny black hair pinned back behind her head. Her expression was one of wariness, but also relief. “Anastasia, dear,” Marsella said as she embraced the Ghantish royal. “Such a pleasure to see you again.”

Anastasia returned the embrace eagerly, and replied with “and you as well, Lady Marsella.”

The Emperor of Ghant wasn’t too far behind his brother, coughing discreetly into his hand. “We should ready ourselves for our diplomatic bout,” he reminded everyone. “We only get once chance at doing this right.”

“Alright. We should get to the entrance then, Marsella,” Constantine took a deep breath and look towards his step-mother and the rest of the group. “Any advice before we go?”

“Yeah,” Leo spoke up with a plain face that shifted to a smile. “Don’t mess up.”

“Remember hospitality,” Marsella said gravely. “Guest right...make them feel welcome, and comfortable. The business will take care of itself, trust me.”

While Leo’s remark worked to lessen the weight Constantine felt, Marsella’s quickly returned the heavy burden. He took a deep breath and nodded his head with a quick lick of his lips. “Right. Shall we then?” he said to his step-mother just as the door was opened by a Praetorian.

“So we shall…” Marsella turned to Anastasia and said, “Anastasia dear, if you’d be so kind as to administer guest right…”

“Oh yeah, sure.” Anastasia quickly remarked to Constantine,” can you make sure we have a plate of bread with a bowl of salt in the middle? I’ll offer it to them and say the words...that’s something we learn in Ladies School...one of the few things from Ladies School that I still remember verbatim.”

“It’s on it’s way now. Constantine asked me to see to it last night so we were ready.” Leo added. “It will be here when you’re back.”

“Thank you, both. We’ll be back shortly,” Constantine inclined his head towards Leo and Anastasia. After, the Latin Emperor and his step-mother were escorted out of the room and towards the main entrance where they would receive Ambassador Randronoth and his party.

“I spoke with my mother this morning,” Constantine told Marsella when they were a ways from the dining hall and nearing on the entrance. “She insists on making her way here as soon as it’s settled. I thought a heads up was in order given her...tendencies.”

Marsella nodded somberly, for of all people, she was well aware of those tendencies. “I appreciate the advance notice. My heart reaches out to her. No mother should have to bury her child.” the Empress Dowager kept her eyes focused ahead of her, her head held up in a most dignified manner. For the Edomites would expect nothing less.

“That’s kind of you to say,” Constantine nodded along as they made the final approach to the main entrance where the Emperor and the Empress Dowager would welcome the Edomites.

The New Edomite party was led by Vice-Admiral Matthias Randronoth, the Ambassador, along with Rear-Admiral Count Barnabas Amalek, Colonel Joseph Zelek of the 4th Marine Infantry Regiment, Colonel Timon Brero, the embassy’s military attache, Commander Joanna Heep of the Carrier Air Task Force, Miss Honoria Meerzat (an opera singer) and Caleb Jejereth, an author and occasional journalist for NENN news. The last two were wearing civilian evening dress; in the case of Miss Meerzat it was a crimson evening gown that had faint sparkles in it, off the shoulder showing supple skin and a long slim neck, her figure curvaceous yet taut, dark hair richly piled into a flowing topknot, simple gold jewelry gracing her neck and wrists. Jejereth wore a tuxedo but also had three medals on it. He was a middle aged man with very sun wizened features and an air of energy and alertness about him. He seemed on good terms with the officials present.

“To think,” said Count Amalek, “That this lovely place was the scene of such violence so recently. These floors were not made for service boots; those walls and curtains not made for grimy hands. Men are so often ephemeral--fit for service, fit for the grave, fit for breeding...to eat and sleep and such...but good architecture, that is a testament to the glory of man that is imbued with the spirit of God.”

“Well, we are all truly as grass that is put in the oven and baked,” observed Randronoth. “But yes, it’s a splendid building. But see, here come those we have allied with in all their splendour.”

“And not a medal on ‘em earned save Prince Leo’s,” said Amalek. “And if Michael had not been such a criminal fool…”

“Well, they’re monarchs, and came to their thrones young,” said Randronoth, refusing to discuss Michael. “But let us be good guests now and see what is what.”

“What is what,” muttered Amalek. “I am Count Amalek, that is what.”

Captain Rosa Sharon joined them just before the imperial personages arrived, bowing deeply out of respect. They mostly gave her polite nods in response, though Commander Heep, Jejejereth and Colonel Brero were more friendly. Count Amalek gave her a long thoughtful stare and murmured something in Baran to Randronoth, who nodded.

The Dowager Empress Marsella was present at the main entrance to receive them, with her stepson Constantine not too far away. When the Edomites arrived, she curtsied deeply and with all the grace expected of someone in such a position as hers. “Greetings, friends,” she said to them in fluid Latin. “Such a pleasure to have you here.” she turned her head slightly towards her stepson to see what if anything he had to add to that in the form of an introduction.

“Yes, welcome,” Emperor Constantine flashed a pleasant smile as he spoke in his native Latin tongue. “I’ll echo my step-mother’s thoughts, as I’m very pleased to welcome you all to the Palace of Augustus tonight.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” said Randronoth, bowing elegantly in the Belisarian fashion common to the court of Vannois and Latium. “It is a great pleasure to see you again. I hope all is well with you.”

Standing just outside of the entrance to the palace were Praetorian Guard’s dressed in full ceremonial uniforms for the occasion. Just beyond the Emperor and Dowager Empress were photographers from the Imperial Offices to capture the welcome. “A quick photo before we proceed with the festivities, your Excellency?” Constantine smiled to Ambassador Randronoth with his hand extended for a handshake as the few photographers moved into position.

“Indeed, sir,” said Randronoth, extending his hand. Unlike many Edomites, those who were in the diplomatic service in Belisarian nations and similar ones to them were good at handshakes. He smiled for the camera.

Constantine faced the camera’s with a warm smile as he shook the Ambassador’s hand. The Imperial Offices photographers snapped a quick flurry of pictures of the group until one of the Emperor’s lesser staff intervened to signify the end of the session. “Thank you,” the Latin Emperor nodded to his staff before turning back towards the Ambassador, inclining his hand if to suggest entering the palace. “We have appetizers and wine waiting for inside. I hope you’re all hungry.”

“We have brought good appetites, Caesar,” replied Randronoth. “So very kind. I hope that we will not prove poor guests.”

Marsella cracked a grin and said “good, because there’s plenty of food and drink to be shared this day.”

The Edomites followed him. In full dress, the female officers present wore calf length skirts and low heeled shoes, walking gracefully in them. All were bare headed. Their full dress had a 19th Century grandness of its own, a bit simpler but nevertheless present. The naval officers wore dark blues with double breasted jackets polished brass buttons, gold braid and gleaming medals. The Army officers, Zelek and Sharon, wore green tunics with red epaulets.

The Emperor led the large group through the hallways of the Palace, walking past whatever works of art hadn’t been damaged or had recently been taken out of reserve as replacements. Moments later, they arrived at the doors of the dining hall with two Praetorians saluting and opening the doors to reveal the room so none missed a step. Inside the room were all of the other attendants including Princess Maria of Latium, Prince Leo of Ghant and Latium, Master of Soliders Flavius Vipsanius, Legate Celus Fontieus, Deputy Mayor Thomas Alienus of Castellum and Lord Mayor Victor Didius of the City of Castellum.

The main dining hall was a large room with two large chandeliers hanging above each end of a single long table. The table had been covered in a white tablecloth, with silverware, cutlery and glass already laid out with small nameplates to designate the seating plan. The Emperor’s seat was the only without a name marker, as it was located at the center of the table, with his back facing the room’s windows. His seat was different from the rest, featuring the full heraldic achievement of the Imperial Coat of Arms, as well as a small engraving atop the back of the chair, which read “HIM CONSTANTINVS XX - XI SEPTEMBER MMXVII.”

Anastasia stood waiting for them to enter, and when they did, she stepped forward. In her hands she held a plate of cut pieces of bread surrounding a bowl of salt. She inclined her head towards the Edomites, and said in a husky Latin accent, “greetings, friends and guests. Please accept this offering of bread and salt, to know that you are safe and welcome within these walls, under the protection of guest right.”

“On behalf of all here, in the names of the Father, Son and Holy Ghost, may our right hands forget their cunning, and our names turned to curses if we return guest right with discourtesy,” replied Randronoth. So saying, he took bread and salt, and the others did as well.

Count Amalek, a narrow faced, slim hard looking man, looked at Anastasia with appreciation. “Thank you, Your Imperial Highness. Fair words from a fair lady.”

Rosa took her portion quietly and wondered if Anastasia remembered who she was. Colonel Brero seemed languid; Commander Heep gave Anastasia a friendly but polite smile, bowing and murmuring her thanks in Latin.

Colonel Zelek was a strong featured man with olive tanned dark skin and dark eyes, and he said with a smile, “Well that was a splendid meal!” However his witticism fell flat. Count Amalek glanced at him and shook his head. In fact, since Anastasia seemed to be simply following ceremony, the Edomites generally were rebuffed in their attempt to be friendly.

Emperor Louis XIX of Vannois had awaited the arrival of their Latin hosts as well as the Edomite guests alongside the Ghantish contingent within the main room in which they would be entertained, deciding to stand by his beloved Selene -- on crutches and as such not yet as healthy as she would be soon, he hoped -- as well as his uncle Jean-Marc and eldest sister, Catherine. The Emperor and his uncle were dressed similarly, though the younger man’s chest was adorned with a handful more medals, the most prominent of which was the valuable Grand Cross of the Order of the Dodo. Their clothes otherwise were the dress of military men, a deep blue and ranks denoting Jean-Marc as a member of the Imperial Navy and Louis as Commander in Chief of the Vannoisian military. As for Catherine, who stood straight-backed and slightly paler than was usual for the gregarious Princess, a dress of light silver adorned her tall figure and her blonde hair was pinned up in the complicated fashion of Vannoisian court. She stood noticeable away from her elder brother, though near to Jean-Marc, and kept a close eye on her great-grandmother Teresa throughout proceedings.

Led by Louis, the Vannoisians were quick to partake in the traditional offerings of bread and salt alongside their Latin hosts, and a non-combative smile graced the Vannoisian sovereign’s face as he did so.

“My thanks, Princess,” Louis said, turning his pleasant countenance to Anastasia before making the requisite acknowledgements to the other parties with a bow of the head.

Emperor Constantine was first among the Latins to partake in the bread and salt, smiling to Anastasia as took his share. “Thank you, Princess.” Then he addressed Randronoth’s remarks, “Well put, your Excellency.” The remaining Latins soon followed in participation after the Emperor had stepped back, though Deputy Mayor Alienus and Lord Mayor Didius did so with curious looks on their faces due to rarely, if ever, participating in an exchange of bread and salt previously. Afterwards, servants walked throughout the room offering various types of wine, champagne or other drink to all the new arrivals.

The Ghantish guests were seated at the table in the feast hall, nonchalantly pouring themselves glasses of wine and passing bowls of fruit betwixt themselves. Chief among them were the Emperor of Ghant, his brother-in-law Crown Prince Martin of Dakmoor, King Taboro of Arrautsa, King Jori of Jehenna, King Gadiel of Gaemar, Princess Amerei of Izotza, Hector Atmos, Prince Paul of Ghant and the venerable Teresa, Dowager Empress of Vannois, among others.

When the Edomites and Latins entered, the Ghantar gave them friendly looks, with the Emperor speaking first. “I would have partaken myself of guest right, but I’m afraid that if I eat bread, I’ll not have enough room for the main courses,” he spoke with a grin and chuckle, prompting some of his countrymen to snigger along with him. “Please, come and join us.”

Constantine smiled when Nathan spoke, though said nothing and rounded the table to his marked seat at the center of the large table. It wasn’t until he stood in front of his seat that he said, “Honored guests, please, if you’ll find your seats, we have staff coming around with drinks should you prefer something not already at the table and soon enough the first course.” The other Latins quickly found their seats and waited for more wine to be brought out.

“Who is the host?” muttered Amalek to Randronoth.

“We sail in strange waters,” replied Randronoth. “Thank you Your Majesty. Thank you, Caesar.” The Edomites found the places according to their cards and sat down when it was clear that it was proper to do so.

After the guests had been seated, staff began to bring pour wine for that requested. With full glasses, staff proceeded to bring the the first course appetizers, which were variety of cured meats with olives, mushrooms, anchovies, artichoke hearts, cheese and bread. Constantine looked across the table to his sister who gave him a reassuring smile.

“Your Majesties, Your Highnesses, Your Excellencies and Right Honorable guests,” Constantine spoke to draw the attention of all in the room after rising from his seat. “We have seen a great deal of uncertainty in the three months since my father’s death. We have seen acts of cowardice, treachery, selfish ambition, and immorality by those whom wish to prey on the weak and less fortunate to shape the State for their own gain,” he spoke calmly to everyone at the table. “But through it all we have seen great acts of heroism in the name of peace and the benefit of the Latin people. Latium and it’s people have faced adversity once again, and we will be stronger for it. Those in this room, and even elsewhere, have played a part aiding in that peace. With that I welcome you all to my home, so that we may feast in celebration. To peace,” he finished and raised his glass.

“To peace,” the Ghantish said in unison with raised glasses.

“Peace,” echoed the Edomites.

“Although,” said Randronoth thoughtfully, “A peace not built on good foundations is no peace at all, would you not say so, Majesty?”

“I agree, your Excellency. No home built upon an unstable foundation is like to stand tall for years to come,” Constantine gave the Ambassador a polite smile before looking cheerfully at the other guests who all had plates in front of them. “Sister, would you mind saying grace?”

Princess Maria nodded to her younger brother and began to lead the short prayer before they began to eat. She did a brief sign of the cross before speaking, “O Lord, our God, bless the food and drink of Thy servants, for holy art Thou, always, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.”

“Thank you. Now everyone, please, let us feast until we can feast no more,” the Latin Emperor smiled once more before seating himself.

“I have now advanced forces into several cities,” said Colonel Zelek “But this was the least destructive march thus far. Prince Michael inspired no real loyalty, his men showed the white flag after the first few shells.”

“That must have been it,” said Commander Heep. “In fact, Colonel, I felt at the most danger when I was on the road and was stopped by some of your men.”

“Ah yes, my Damocleans are fierce, and are at times indiscriminately so. But my officers and NCOs did well, I think, in that they did not leave a trail of burned and sacked farms and ravished women...and men for that matter...behind them. I dare say that they are real Marine Infantry now.”

Randronoth glanced at Nathan. “You are to be congratulated, Majesty. You mustered an army and advanced it from Vannois to Latium, arriving in Castellum to coincide with Emperor Constantine and Prince Leo. You must be very proud.”

Rosa Sharon glanced at Nathan too. She wished she was sitting with him. But not here; having one of their midnight picnics, laughing and watching movies, walking in the garden at night. But often he could not so much as look at her. When a liaison officer’s duty’s to be done, to be done, a mistress’ lot is not a happy one… she sang in her head.

“What I’m most proud of,” Nathan explained to Randronoth, “is that none of my men died. Everyone gets to go home when this is all done, back to their families. I can imagine that the same elation must be felt among the Edomite soldiers in Latium.”

Count Amalek said, “Well, that is a good thing…”

Randronoth attempted to speak to him but Amalek said, “However, Your Imperial Majesty’s soldiers did not take part in any engagements either, so they could hardly have taken any casualties. Of course that is hardly your fault, sir.”

“A keen observation,” the Emperor of Ghant agreed. “As I’ve said, I’m glad that the lives of my soldiers and brothers-in-arms were spared, and that peace was achieved without their sacrifice. The fact that there were no engagements was a blessing, though we were prepared for them if necessary.”

“...my brother-in-law did actually accept the peaceful surrender of one of Michael’s forces in the field,” Martin of Dakmoor pointed out. “Through skillful diplomacy...a meeting between him and their commander in his tent, with wine and merrymaking.”

“Did you, brother?” Leo grinned a smile at his brother after he finished chewing on his last bit of the appetizers. “That does sound like you, I suppose.”

“Tis true, I was there,” agreed Anastasia between sips of wine. “They drank wine together and talked about life.”

“To be honest, Prince Martin,” said Count Amalek, “I’ve never seen a sorrier example of preparation for war than Prince Michael’s. I think they would have surrendered to the Emperor’s barber if he showed up. Again, don’t mean to rain on anyone’s parade.”

“Admiral Count Amalek is a peppery fellow,” said Randronoth with a smile. “He is known for being a straight shooter among us. He is not a diplomat. I apologize if there is any offense in his words “

Nathan smiled gingerly before throwing back his glass of wine. “I appreciate straight shooters...after all, you won’t hit anything by shooting crooked, right? Indeed it is true, that Michael’s forces lacked preparation. As the great Ghish Imperials Hockey Coach Bo Dutari said, ‘the key is not the will to win, everyone has that. It’s the will to prepare to win that’s important.”

Martin sipped on his wine thoughtfully, before telling Amalek that “well, if he’d have surrendered to the a barber, perhaps we would have all been better off if we sent my half-brother instead, toddler that he is,” the prince joked playfully.

“Ha,” said Amalek. “Perhaps indeed. But the Emperor did conduct the exercise in question…”

“Tell me,” said Colonel Zelek, “If it’s not too much trouble sir, what did you find the most challenging thing about command? I mean my understanding is that you are not a soldier by training, and yet you had this large force, division strength. How did you manage it?”

“The most challenging thing,” Nathan tapped his chin with the back of the spoon, “was accepting the fact that while I was in command, I relied heavily upon others to execute. Much like an orchestra, there are so many moving parts. It isn’t as simple as just saying ‘this is what I want so do it,’ because there are so many people involved, and so much organization. Sure, one can know strategy, and have ideas, but execution from the top to the bottom is where it matters most, and without that, you won’t get much done at all.”

“Well there’s some truth in that, sir,” said Randronoth. “You are not alone in having no casualties, by the way, due to lack of hostile engagement. They call me ‘No Shot’ Randronoth in the Navy because I’ve barely seen a shot fired in anger,” he chuckled.

“The trouble,” mused Zelek, “Is that the higher in rank you go, the farther you are from what’s really happening on the ground. Hence there’s few substitutes for experience. It is a heavy burden, sir, you are right in that. But I do love it. It’s something I would never trade. I dread promotion, I truly do, because it would take me away from the regiment.”

“...I don’t know,” Anastasia remarked with some reluctance in her voice. “I don’t know how long I could be in the field before I lost my mind. There’s something to be said about the comforts of easy living.”

“It’s the comradeship, the sense of clear purpose, the fact that you rely on people absolutely,” explained Zelek. “In...comfortable life, Princess, if you make a mistake or are negligent, no one dies. No one gets injured because of your messes. You are closer to your comrades than you have ever been close to anyone. You share your food with them, your space, you rely on them. There’s a sense of tradition and brotherhood.” He smiled at her. “Not for everyone, of course.”

Emperor Nathan may have had something to add to that, but his train of thought was derailed once he noticed Miss Meerzat. He was not alone in that respect, as several other Ghantar of high station noticed her as well.

As guests were finishing up their appetizers, staff members began to pick up the pushed aside plates and replacing them with a soup of sausage, crushed red peppers, diced white onion, bacon, garlic puree, chicken bouillon, heavy cream and potatoes. Leo observed the conversation between his brother and the Edomites, while also noticing a conversation developing at the other end of the table, both of which his cousin Constantine attempting to keep up on as he barely touched his first course and rarely sipped at his wine.

“Well, I can certainly appreciate the sentiment,” Nathan agreed with Zelek as he sampled some of the soup. “There’s a certain glory to be had close to the action, less so if you’re cooped up in a command tent. Might I digress, what’s next for the Edomite forces here in Latium? I saw many of them on the road to Castellum. They looked rather bored...had I not been in such a hurry to get to the capital, I might have invited some of them over for some drinking games,” he laughed.

Colonel Zelek chuckled. “A bit above my pay grade, sir. I hope that you are mistaken though, if they were on duty looking bored they’ll…” he cleared his throat and sipped some wine, glancing at eh ladies cautiously. “They’ll find that they have a fresh acquaintance between their backsides and my boot, if people will pardon the expression.” He seemed to be really enjoying the soup.

“A peaceful transition of power is our principal concern, but also security in the strait,” said Randronoth. “We are very concerned about what Jedoria’s moves are going to be. After all, Jedoria and Chaco rushed to Emperor Constantine’s aid at the very start, yet I see no Jedorians or Chacanos here. That is as it may be, but we must be clear that this part of the region’s security is stable.”

The Emperor of Ghant listened attentively, and sipped methodically from his wine glass before responding. “Well, here’s what I know about that. A peaceful transition of power is unfolding, though of course there is some healing that appears necessary on the national stage. So far from my observations things are going well and treading in the right direction. As far as the Jedorians, they are gone, and the Chacanos, they are leaving. The strait is a mess no doubt, but once the naval situation is well enough in hand, I think that will clear up,” Nathan explained in earnest, before turning his head to look at Constantine.

“Emperor Nathan has the right of it. A peaceful transition is unfolding as we speak. The Jedorians are gone, and the Chacoans have agreed to a departure and are in the process of leaving,” Constantine stated plainly as a servant placed soup down in front of him. “We have more than a sufficient number of men in or near the city, both from my army which I traveled with from Adrianople and those which my cousin Leo brought from Ravenna. We have reserves, and we have the support of local, elected leadership,” the Latin Emperor directed his attention to both Deputy Mayor Alienus and Lord Mayor Didius. “My officers are continually in communication with local police, whom we are providing added support, in order to make sure that the people of this city see more of their local police officers than they do men they do not know.”

“That just leaves the navy and the strait. I have received the oaths of loyalty from naval officers which had seen it most prudent to remain neutral throughout this wicked mess, and even those which had not seen it that way,” Constantine took a breath and continued. “We have ships on patrol and planes that have been patrolling the skies since before our arrival in this city. Don’t take my words to mean that I think this lightly. I am not. The victory all of us in this room sought out to achieve has been accomplished. Rest assured victory has been achieved and now my priority is regaining and growing the public trust, which has faded due to my late brother’s actions. And I believe that the withdrawal of foreign armies is paramount to that end.”

“Indeed,” said Randronoth politely. “Naturally I must work with you and your government, sir, towards that end, and rest assured, no one will be happier than I when our forces are permitted to return home.”

“...And how soon do you suppose that will be?” Teresa inquired politely, having been quiet up until this point. “Is it as simple as writing a report to Fineberg about the situation, or is there an established set of criteria that need to be met first? I only ask because it will be hard to get on while there are so many men in the field.”

“It’s not so many men, really...or women…” said Randronoth, spearing a slice of delectable pork and toying with it before munching. He dabbed at his mouth with a napkin. “Three thousand Marine Infantry, roughly the same for the fleet...and as I said, there are concerns about the aggression of the Jedorians. They did deploy here awfully fast. And then the Emperor demanded that they leave. I do not imagine that this will be taken lightly. The Jedorians apparently have a vast fleet, army and air force. The old adage that if we cannot be friends we must be enemies...may very well apply in this case.”

Marsella dabbed the corners of her mouth with her napkin, and responded. “The Jedorians came because they were invited, and that was a mistake, I think we can all agree on that. That mistake was rectified, and they were asked to leave, and Latin’s dealings with them brought to a swift and decisive end. As my step-son said, the Edomites worked towards peace in Latium, and the Jedorians did not. Make no mistake, Latium is no friend of Jedoria, nor is Ghant or New Edom. So I very much consider the matter of Jedoria to be a non-issue.”

There were collective nods amongst the Ghantish, with Nathan seconding Marsella’s words. “I’ve been Emperor of Ghant for almost twenty years. I had the misfortune of becoming Emperor at nine. I can tell you that at that age, and for many years after, I made mistakes. I was gullible, naive, and easily taken advantage of, especially by opportunists. Constantine is a young Emperor as well, and like any young heredity head of state, myself included, he suffered a few miscues. Jedoria was perhaps the biggest one, but the man owned it.”

“...If you’re worried that the Jedorians are a threat to Latium,” Martin began to state matter-of-factly, “I think you’re overestimating the Jedorians. They are being torn apart by civil unrest even as we speak, and they are harried by threats on all sides. Making any such move against Latium, a nation that is no essentially united, would be a grave mistake that would bury them. Hell, I’d even be surprised if Jedoria as we know it today will still be around in a year. I agree with what the others have said here today, that Jedoria as it concerns Latium is a non-issue.”

“I have already begun preparations to send all Ghantish forces home, back they way they came from Vannois,” the Emperor of Ghant explained while scratching the corner of his nose. “I’m satisfied with the situation on the ground here...and I have more pressing concerns, like the situation in Deweden, that could really touch off soon.”

“Do you have no faith in the CPO negotiations then, sir?” asked Colonel Brero almost lazily, as though he was asking if the Emperor of Ghant believed he might have ice cream after supper.

“I have the utmost faith in CPO negotiations,” Nathan replied merrily as he poured himself another tall glass of wine. “I very much encourage CPO mediation where it’s applicable, though if we are talking about to what extent that’s needed here, I’m not sure it’s as necessary as it was before. There are no competing factions in the field anymore, there’s just one now, so what’s the point?”

Count Amalek clicked his tongue but felt a nudge under the table from Randronoth and held it.

Randronoth said, “I should say...I should in fact like to emphasize...that we have every intention of withdrawing our forces from Latium. However my duty, and that of every officer here, is to make sure that there is no further threat to our own satisfaction. Prince Martin, you spoke of likelihood and unlikelihood. With all due respect, we cannot make decisions that way. We have to be sure. As for Latium repelling Jedorian forces easily...well that’s a matter for a military briefing, not this splendid meal in this splendid company.” He looked up at all assembled there. “Naturally, Ghantish forces will do as they must according to your national policy. And I am very aware that Latium is a sovereign state.

“Let’s come up with a reasonable timetable then,” Prince Leo suggested to the group after having more or less kept quiet.

Anastasia poked and prodded at her soup, and then she spoke about the matter at hand. “Why not just get the Latins provide you with intel on the Jedorians in exchange for some kind of a timetable on withdrawal then?”

“Yes, Princess,” remarked Count Amalek, glancing at her sharply but then smiling. “We intend to do just that, but we need to establish how it will work, of course. A wise thought.”

“A timetable...a very rough one at that,” his brother the Ghantish Emperor agreed. “And then we can get on with the feast and talk about the weather, eh?”

Martin looked between the two of them and added, “I think that’s plenty of time for reliable intelligence to be gathered about Jedoria, to ascertain their capabilities here, and elsewhere. Constantine, would you agree to share all intelligence that you have, and will have, on Jedoria with New Edomite intelligence services? I’m sure that would go a long way in putting their minds at ease. Jedoria poses a grave threat to their national security, hence their immediate concerns here.”

“You will have a timetable presented tomorrow,” said Randronoth. “Involving our departure within the month.” he then paid attention to his meal.

“Of course,” Constantine stated with a nod. “That’s more than acceptable. Even speaking with Jedoria was a folly I came to quickly realize. I’m more than willing to correct things towards their proper course that way,” Constantine stated. “Latium will always support our brothers and sisters in faith.”

“Very kind of you to say sir, thank you,” said Randronoth, politely inclining his head towards the emperor. “Desperate times, desperate measures. Perhaps we all could speak of more pleasant things. This meal is delicious.”

That prompted the Emperor of Ghant to smile at Captain Rosa Sharon, before asking Randronoth in a general sense, “so, what’s the weather like in New Edom this time of year…”

“...Hot,” Anastasia declared. “Very hot...”

“It’s not that hot, but certainly warm enough that one needs no clothing all day in some parts,” laughed Rosa Sharon.

“You’ve been quiet,” the Emperor of Ghant finally spoke to Miss Meerzat. “What about you, do you like it hot?” he asked casually and with cool confidence.

“I enjoy a variety of weathers, Your Majesty,” said Miss Meerzat with a smile and a slight flush. “I am here largely to entertain our people here, but also Ambassador Randronoth hoped I might be able to perform for those here, but I do not wish to intrude, naturally. I sang a number of popular folk songs for the boys and girls, and it went over well. Do you enjoy singing sir?”

Nathan chuckled and said “In the shower I do,” before grinning mirthfully from behind his glass of wine. “I’d quite enjoy a performance, and I’m sure many of my countrymen would as well.” At this there were some slight nods from the other Ghantar, or at least those that were paying attention.

“Perhaps, with Emperor Constantine’s permission sir,” she said pleasantly. “What kind of music do you like mostly?”

Rosa wondered if Nathan was just being nice to her, using her for a conversation piece. She doubted it. She busied herself with her stew, picking out pieces of pepper and sausage by preference. However she also knew something Nathan did not know.

Randronoth cleared his throat. “Miss Meerzat is an ornament to the Edomite stage. If the Emperor Constantine would like, she may perform for us, as she has already conveyed to me her interest in doing so. I thought she would be a welcome dinner guest, and is always a most charming companion.”

“Yes by all means, Ms. Meerzat. I’m sure I speak for all here when I say it would be an honor to hear such a lovely voice,” Constantine said with a smile after taking a drink of his wine. Afterwards he took a look over towards Princess Anastasia, hoping to offer her a smile if they caught each other’s glance.

Rosa Sharon was privately amused by this; she knew his tastes very well, and Nathan and Miss Meerzat’s tastes did not coincide, she was sure. She nearly got the giggles imagining her trying to plan to present some Metal and Rap in operatic form...

“...smooth jazz,” he answered Miss Meerzat. “Especially when the weather’s hot.”

“Oh you mean like…summertime… and the living is easy...fish are jumping and the cotton is high…” she sang with a smile.

“...Your daddy's rich and your mama's good looking,” Nathan finished the verse afterwards.

“So hush little darling...don’t you cry…” she broke into a smile again. “Wonderful, so you do enjoy it!”

[Lacus Magni]

Pompilius
Palace of Augustus
Castellum ab Alba

The Consul found himself waiting in the hallways of the Palace just outside of the Emperor’s office suite, with his Chief of Staff standing beside him, as he waited for the his audience with Emperor Constantine. The suite’s doors were flanked by two Praetorian guardsman, dressed in traditional palace attire, and with their back facing the Consul stood another Praetorian who awaited his orders to show the Consul though. The scene was a stark reminder to the Consul that the boy emperor was attempting to properly reintroduce the formality of court and imperial audiences that had been lacking during his time in Adrianople.

“Your audience was supposed to start ten minutes ago” the Consul’s Chief of Staff, Peter Ovinius, informed Consul Pompilius after looking at his watch. The Praetorian standing in front of the two took a quick look back at them over his shoulder as Ovinius spoke.

He’s sweating me out, just like his father used to do, Pompilius thought. Or perhaps it’s cold feet and the boy’s nervous. Either way, the Consul didn’t dwell on it or speak poorly of the Emperor in such close proximity to close and unfriendly ears. “I’m sure his meeting with the Minister of Defense is just taking longer than anticipated,” he told his Chief of Staff. “It happens from time to time. Hand me the lists.”

Ovinius reached into his bag and handed the Consul a thick binder. Pompilius pulled his glasses from inside his jacket as he read over some documents pertaining to his audience as he waited. It wasn’t for another ten minutes that the double doors leading to the office suite opened and out walked the Minister of Defense, Flavius Vipsanius, and the Emperor’s most recent confidant Dr. Pankratios Anemas.

The Minister of Defense walked by first. The old man looked as smug and pompous as ever, though did his best to hide that, offering Pompilius a quick smile once they caught each other's glare. No doubt, the elderly former general provided the Emperor with sage advice and even elation at the recent agreements among Latin and all foreign militaries to begin withdrawing their forces.

Dr. Anemas was a much more peculiar man, however. The Hellenic man’s name first grew in notoriety after being hired by Crown Prince John of Ghant and, then, Isabella Claudia nearly 24 years priors to tutor their son, Leo. Anemas eventually returned after Leo’s expulsion and entered the service of Emperor Jason to continue and take on tutoring his own children. Anemas’ appearance into Emperor Constantine's raised some eyebrows from Pompilius and others in the cabinet, but as of yet had not seemed to be cause for any great concern. Though that didn’t mean Pompilius wasn’t keeping an eye fixed on the man.

“Consul,” a secretary of Emperor Constantine’s walked out of the suite’s double doors next. “His Majesty will see you now. If you’ll please follow me.”

Pompilius removed his glasses, carefully sliding them back into a jacket pocket. He closed his binder and picked up his briefcase, which he was previously rested on the floor near his feet, before following the secretary into the office suite. The main doors of the office suite lead into a small entry way, before leading to another door and the Emperor’s main office. The main office was a wide, open and expansive room, decorated more or less the way Pompilius remembered it from the last time he was present for an imperial audience nearly three months ago in early September. However, instead of being seated behind his desk at the far end of the office as Pompilius expected, Constantine was waiting for the Consul off towards a corner of the room, seated in a chair with another nearby.

“Your Imperial Majesty,” the secretary entered the room first and presented Pompilius to the Emperor. Constantine slowly rose once the two stopped just inside the doors. “The Consul.”

Emperor Constantine remained standing as the secretary backed out of the room and Pompilius approached, placing his belongings and relevant documents down near his seat. He had to think back to the usual imperial protocol, as court in Adrianople had been more informal due to the unusual circumstances. “Your Imperial Majesty,” Pompilius said with a short glance at the Emperor before taking a deep bow and holding it for a few seconds. When he rose, the Emperor’s right arm was extended and the Ring of Felix facing him. The look on the Emperor’s face showed discomfort during this first, very formal meeting with the Consul, but the Pompilius did as all Consul’s before him had done and gave a brief kiss to the Ring of Felix.

Once the Emperor found his seat, Pompilius followed suit and reached for his briefcase. As the protocol dictated, Pompilius waited for any direction by the Emperor before their dialogue would begin. And when the Consul finally appeared situation, Constantine was the first to speak. “You’re read the briefings regarding all foreign troop and equipment withdrawals, yes Consul? If there is no debate among the Senate regarding the reports, then we may move on to minutes of the recent, informal cabinet meeting,” the Emperor leaned back in his seat with near perfect posture and no emotion on his face.

“Yes, Caesar, I have. And I’ve spoken with various cabinet members regarding the matter and the Senate supports the proposals and will appropriate any funds required in the endeavor. We have also made the necessary appropriations for His Imperial Majesty Jason Augustus’ state funeral,” Pompilius replied, looking the Emperor in the eye. “As for the cabinet minutes, I presume you wish to speak of the discussion on calling for new elections?”

“I thank you for that. The Household is still mulling over options for a state funeral or a simple closed service. And yes, the elections,” the Emperor plainly stated, waiting for the Consul to explain further before offering any opinion. Pompilius found Constantine’s early actions at the audience to be odd when compared with the nature of court in Adrianople, he’s taking his declaration for immediate normallcy quite literally. Perhaps his father has been giving him advice from the grave.

“Well Caesar, for one it is an excellent way for your subjects to have their voices heard after such a period of uncertainty. I see no better way to demonstrate a willingness by yourself and the Senate that together we still mean to safeguard their rights after an attempt by a usurping tyrant and his friends to take those very rights away,” Pompilius spoke eloquently, hoping to get some reaction out of the Emperor. “Call it a simple show of good faith.”

“We also have some more practical concerns as there are also a number of vacancies in the Senate,” Pompilius reached down to his briefcase and pulled out a list of names, which he handed to Emperor Constantine. “You see, Caesar, that there are nearly 75 vacant seats, mostly by resignation or otherwise being incapacitated, though a few deaths sprinkled among the numbers.”

“And these vacancies can’t be filled simply with by-elections in the various constituencies? To my understanding that is often the most efficient way solve each of the issues you have addressed,” Constantine told Pompilius. “The people are allowed to exercise their right to vote, the vacancies are filled and everyone is spared the song and dance that comes with a full scale election until 2020.”

“If I may, Caesar,” Pompilius leaned forward in his seat, pulling in Constantine’s attention. “In times like these…”

“And what times are those, Consul?” Constantine interrupted.

Pompilius leaned back with a smirk. “With all due respect, sir, you have said above all that you wish for a swift return to stability, to the stability that was destroyed by your brother careless actions and of course the unfortunate death of your father. Everyone in government understands what happened, and that above all you are working to set things right...to set things back on their proper course. But the people, sir, the people must see that type of action from your Sovereign person. I’ve been at this long enough to know they’ll need more than your’s or government’s assurances.”

“And this decision among cabinet doesn’t have anything to do with recent polls?” the Emperor reached for his own papers from the nearby side-table. Clever boy, the Consul thought as the Emperor continued to preach. “The Conservatives are polling at near 45%. That would likely provide an additional 30 or so seats for your majority. That would make it the largest post-Social War majority ever, if I’m not mistaken.”

“We never make decisions of such importance to the state based on what is politically convenient, sir,” Pompilius smiled his way through his present frustration at his attempt for new elections. “Government does, however, take all factors under consideration, and I am adamant in my belief that new elections are the best way to move down a path of reconciliation with the people. Here is the preliminary schedule government proposes should you wish to call for snap elections.”

“Of course, Consul,” Constantine nodded uncomfortably. “I’m just trying to have a full understanding of the facts before I make any decision to dissolve the Senate. Ah, so you’re proposing we let things settle until mid-January before the dissolution. Give me a few days time to think on the matter and review government’s proposal, then we’ll discuss it again.”

“And on the subject of elections, this morning I spoke with Commissioner Pasidiena at the Electoral Commission regarding Popular Social Party and their future participation in politics,” Constantine stated as a servant walked in some tea and coffee for the men, setting it down on a table that another carried into the room. “Given their actions during the crisis and quick support and counsel they offered my brother, I would like to initiate the process for banning the party and barring its elected officials from ever holding elected office again.”

“As is your right, Caesar,” Pompilius held his coffee, waiting for it to cool down before sipping at it. “However, I must warn you that they will appeal and it will be a lengthy process.”

“For them to appeal and fail is to openly admit treason. A crime punishable by death. I don’t believe they’d be so shortsighted to appeal.”

“What of their supporters?” Pompilius asked the Emperor. “The PSP and nationalist cause has always been a loud voice. They nearly reached two and a half million votes in the last general.”

“The far right will crawl back under their stones as they’ve always done. The current leaders will suffer their fates and new leaders will quickly emerge from the supporters in the hopes of rallying a weakened base. Thankfully they’ve become more moderate since their first iterations years ago. God willing they move more towards the center if they ever attempt to reform again.”

“Yes, of course. Wide indeed, Caesar,” Pompilius took a drink of his coffee and reached for the heavy binder his Chief of Staff handed him before entering. He handed the binder to the Emperor, who them opened and inspected its contents.

“What is this?” Constantine looked up from the binder with a puzzled look. The Consul only smirked.

“A list of names, Caesar. Compiled by myself and cabinet. You’ll find that the PSP senators are on page twelve.”

“Yes I can see that. I do have eyes, Consul. But for what purpose?” Constantine stared at Pompilius, but it was clear the boy already knew the answer to his question.

“For proscription. Those are among those we know are traitors to your reign and the Senate. They are enemies of the state,” Pompilius explained, setting his coffee down. “Of course, we expect you to compile your own lists before you press charges and begin the process of confiscation. But…”

“Some of these men weren’t even my brother’s employ over the last three months,” Constantine appeared frustrated by the list. “This is far too strict and inclusive. There will be no proscriptions, especially not along these lines. And that is the end of discussion.”

“Because we are soon to unite our families in marriage, let me offer you some free advice, Caesar,” Pompilius leaned forward in his seat, eying troubled young man seated across from him. The Emperor’s face nearly mocked Pompilius’ suggestion over the union of their families. Sophia might be right, I may have beat him into submission. “Too much mercy and they’ll never respect you...your enemies will never fear you. Aye, mercy is a fine quality, but too much of it...not so.”

“I am merciful but forgetful, Consul,” Constantine let out a labored breath. “It’s been said that when your enemies defy you, you show them your strength. But when they bend the knee, help them stand again. Why would any man ever bend the knee if I punished everyman who did. Those who willingly aided my brother in his treason, those who sought to profit from it will face punishment. The four Senators from the PSP will be punished, perhaps not by death, but they will be punished, those who took up arms against me and refused to yield peacefully will be punished. Some of these individuals may be sentenced to death, yet others may not. But to treat everyone that way is unfair, unjust and would bring a great dishonor to the Crown and to the State. Not everyone made that choice, I know that much, and those that quickly came to realize their mistakes and make amends should be treated mercifully.”

“Very wise indeed, Caesar,” the Consul offered in reply.

“I do appreciate the advice and counsel of the Senate. However, I will order the Attorney General to pursue treason charges against the individuals which fall into the categories I have laid out,” the Emperor’s face looked tired and showed a desire to move on to a diffierent topic. He just wants me out. “Now I’d like to move on to a proposal for Lord-Lieutenancies...”

“And what of the men captured in the joint raid against the palace?” the Consul defied Constantine’s wishes and even went as far as interrupting him. But even that break of protocol didn’t break the Emperor’s morose look. “The Duke of Haenna, in particular. He murdered a protected Imperial informant..”

“What happened to Lord Gavius was unfortunate and his loved ones have my condolences. But based on all the accounts I’ve heard his death occurred in the heat of a battle,” Constantine replied carefully, attempting to hide his displeasure at the Consul not dropping the issue. As he had throughout the discussion, the Emperor appeared calm and collected, putting on his best face for the Consul.

“I’d say so, he was an agent of yours...of this government. Will His Grace face charges for the murder of an Imperial agent?” Pompilius remarked, waiting for the reaction he’d see from the boy emperor. “What sort of message does it send if Imperial agents are allowed to be killed with impunity?”

“What sort of message does it send to punish a man for defeating my enemies in battle? Should we court martial a private in the 17th Legion for killing a man that was trying to kill him? I will be exercising my imperial prerogative in a number of cases, this being one them. Now, no more,” the Emperor’s face remained unchanged as he hunched forward in his chair for the first time during their meeting. He quickly pulled back and regained his near perfect posture. “Before we conclude I’d like to discuss the Scholarians and my plans for reforming the Lord-Lieutenancies.”

Pompilius leaned back in his chair, having concluded in his toying with the Emperor and listened to the boy’s plans. “The issue of the Scholarians and their treachery leaves us without a gendarmerie and national police force for the time being. Until such a time a more permanent replacement is determined, all Scholarian duties will be carried out by the Praetorian Guard.”

“And the Lord-Lieutenancies?” Pompilius asked, sipping at his coffee.

“Still in the planning stages. But I wish to provide notice to the Senate of my intentions to reform the Lieutenancies so that they have a more useful role in government and more specifically military matters,” Constantine informed Pompilius confidently. “My hope is that with a more direct role in county governance that we can avoid another mess in the future.”

“Of course, very wise, Caesar. I’ll inform the rest of the cabinet and we await your proposals,” Pompilius said waiting for the Emperor to stand and show that their audience was at an end. Soon enough, the Emperor rose and offered his hand to the Consul. The men shook hands and Pompilius gathered his things. The Consul moved to turn away, stopping after taking a single step. “Sir, may I speak freely for a moment?”

“You may.”

“Sir, I want to commend you for your attention to the adhering to the centuries old formalities of the audience. And I hope you don’t take my questioning personally, I have a duty to people and rest of cabinet just as you,” Pompilius said in a calm and soothing voice to the Emperor. Constantine nodded and Pompilius continued. “I am proud knowing that my daughter will be marrying such an outstanding and honorable man such as yourself. Though Anna, the sweet girl she is, was bit shocked at your rapid an unannounced departure from Adrianople. I, of course, completely understand though, Caesar. You had a war to win, and you needed to reach the capital quickly…”

Emperor Constantine took a deep breath, standing across from the Consul. “It unfortunate the way things played out. I had planned on reaching out soon though.”

“I know Anna will be elated to hear from you soon,” Pompilius grinned, noticing Constantine’s apparent discomfort on the discussion of the Consul’s daughter. The Consul appeared to gather his things again, but instead continued talking as if he had just remembered something important. “And while we’re here, I was hoping we could discuss the wedding itself.”

“Oh,” Constantine stated, as if he was caught off guard by the continuance of the topic even though the audience was near pushing into other priorities in the schedule. “If I had been made aware this was something you wanted to discuss today I wish your office would have informed mine, elsewise I could have consulted with my scheduler for suitable dates and more time for your audience.”

He’s pushing me out, Pompilius thought as the Emperor began moving slowly towards the Consul and likely the door. “My apologies for the lack of forewarning, Caesar. However, this is a chief concern of State, just as much as anything else we discussed today. It is imperative we come to work out the details quickly.”

“Of course, I’ll have a discussion with my secretaries and scheduler tonight and I’ll have some dates sent to your office,” Constantine smiled uncomfortably, still walking slowly with Pompilius as they neared the door. Though soon Pompilius stopped walking, as did the Emperor.

“Sir, all I ask is that we make the engagement formal and follow that public announcement. I do not think that is so much to ask,” Pompilius turned his face away with disconcerting look.

“Certainly, is isn’t,” Constantine pursed his lips. “I do apologize though, we’re running into my next meetings and if one thing gets pushed back, then another does and another and so on. I will come up with some workable dates before our next discussion.”

“Before Christmas,” the Consul blurted out.

“Excuse me?” Constantine narrowed his eyes on Pompilius.

“I must, respectfully, request that a formal engagement and announcement take place before Christmas, Caesar,” Pompilius did his best to demonstrate a straight and unemotional face in blurting out demands at the Emperor. He looked the boy in the eye. “I know you are a man of your word and the high regard you hold your honor, sir. But my daughter doesn’t deserve to be dragged along and does not know you as well as I do. Unfortunately a father’s words and advice fall on deaf ears when speaking to their child. You’ll come to learn that yourself one day.”

The Emperor wore a thinker’s face, not yet saying a word in response to Consul Pompilius. He contemplated the issue for what seemed like an unusual amount of time, though in all reality was maybe a second or two longer than normal. “Before Christmas. But my Offices will hold the final say over all matters regarding the ceremony, dates, planning, etcetera.”

“Yes, sir,” Pompilius bowed his head with a smile. “I apologize for the inconvenience I may have caused by overextending my audience.”

“Apologize to my cousin, Consul. He’s the one you’ve made wait,” Constantine had already turned away, walking back towards his desk. “You’re dismissed.”

[Ghant]

Imperial Apartments
Palace of Augustus
Castellum ab Alba
(Co-written with Lacus Magni)

The Imperial Apartments served as the primary living quarters for the reigning emperor within the Palace of Augustus. The apartments were in a wing separate from the Imperial administrative and government offices which were housed within the building. Originally these apartments had been just like any other bed chambers within the palace until the expansion and renovation of the rooms into their present form by the orders of the last King of Latium and first Emperor of the Latins, Theophylactus I Augustus.

The complex of rooms on the three main levels of the palace housed the Emperor and his family. There were a number of bedrooms, which recently served as the personal chambers of Constantine’s youngest siblings, as well as the Imperial bedchamber, sitting rooms, a library, reception room, family dining room, personal office, and balcony. There were also annexes connecting the residence to the grand dining room and ballroom.

Tonight, Constantine shared a private meal with his cousin, Prince Leo; his uncle, Prince Theodosius, Duke of Beroea; Master of Soliders and Minister of Defense Flavius Vipsanius; Strategos Marcus Iccius; Strategos Niketas Argyros; Legate Celus Fontieus; and Legate Thomas Potitius. Together, over a private dinner, the Emperor and his most prominent generals discussed details concerning withdrawal of foreign militaries from Latium and the capital. The group also discussed their progress in gathering information regarding the Jedorians and passing it along to the New Edomites.

After their final course and serving of café or tea, the generals prepared to leave and return to their command positions or other orders. Once the Emperor had seen his guests out, he returned to one of the sitting rooms where he found his cousin Leo waiting for him. “That went well. Everything seems to be going near as planned,” Prince Leo placed down the book he had been looking at.

“There was no question as to who the host was at least,” Constantine said with a light laugh, though it was clear he was still bothered by some aspects of his previous feast with the Ghantish and New Edomites.

“I’m sure Nathan didn’t mean anything by it,” Leo remained seated as Constantine pulled off his navy blue suit jacket, laying it over the back of an empty curule seat. He walked over to a liquor cabinet along the far wall, reaching for a glass and pouring himself a glass of whiskey with ice. By the time Constantine had begun to walk back, Leo said, “You know how he gets around others and alcohol.”

Constantine nearly took a sip from his glass after he sat down near his cousin, but instead he waved his hand and shook his head. “It’s happened already and there’s not point in dwelling on it. It is what it is.”

“Look on the bright side, at least none of the generals pestered you about marrying one of their daughters,” Leo said with a smile. “Are you still planning on going through with it?”

“I don’t know…I think I have to now. We’re too far along and I’ve already given him my word,” Constantine held his glass above his lap before setting it aside and leaning forward in his seat. “I haven’t even spoken to her since before I left Adrianople. I probably shouldn’t have done that...I imagine she’s furious.”

“Probably, but she’ll get over it,” Leo leaned back in his seat with a laugh. By the time he rested his head against the back of the seat his smile had faded, however. “What’s she like?”

“I don’t even know,” Constantine sighed before running a hand through his hair and leaning back himself. “She smiles a lot, I mean like all the time. It’s just whenever we’ve spoken it felt like she was just telling me what I wanted to hear. And the way her father pushing was so hard for it makes me suspicious.”

“Of course he’s pushing for it, he wants his grandson to be Emperor one day. The man was born the poorest of the poor, and to get where he is now...well he certainly doesn’t lack ambition or imagination. For all we know he was pressing you to boost his poll numbers or even distract the people. And I think I even heard some of the staff muttering about the her…so someone’s spreading the word,” Leo replied with a light laugh. He looked to the Emperor, observing how uninterested in the topic he looked. “He’s a politician, they’re a sleazy bunch.”

“All of them?” Constantine said, looking off towards the windows.

“Well most of them?” Leo laughed with a smile, excluding Anna Kinnamos from his recent statement of politicians.

“How is she?”

“I spoke with her the other day. She’s well, still with grandmother...they should be traveling soon,” Leo smiled as he thought of her.

“Good,” Constantine said with a small hint of a smile. The two cousins sat in a peaceful quiet momentarily before Leo took a deep breath and broke that silence.

“Do you remember the other day, before the feast, when I said I needed to tell you something?” Leo continued speaking and Constantine nodded. “It's about your father’s will, the handwritten one. I lied when I told you and everyone I found it in a safe somewhere. I couldn’t share the real reason with everyone because of how it came to me. It’s not for everyone to know.”

Constantine remained leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes as Leo spoke. “Where did you get it then?”

“My Uncle Albert gave it to me himself. He was here, in the city...in the palace. He disguised himself to get into a meeting before you reached the city with that Ghantish diplomatic group. I didn’t even know it was him at first,” Leo appeared nervous stood and handed Constantine a letter. “He told me that your father sent it to him, along with this letter.”

---

To: Albert of Vorindeum
From: Jason VI Augustus of Latium
Encryption: Eyes Only

Albert,

I have given a great deal of thought to the enclosed and it was not a decision I came to lightly. Events have occurred recently that have given rise to grave concerns for what may occur following my death. Marsella has often insisted that you are a man who would never “disavow the truth” no matter what it may be or how it will impact you. I have often found that difficult to believe, though I trust her word above all others. Because of this, I simply see no other option that what I am about to ask of you.

That upon my death you present this document, my handwritten, signed, and sealed Last Will and Testament, as certified by the Supreme Court of Latium, to the international community to prevent any harm to my children, my wife, my mother, brother and sisters and their families, and most of all the people of Latium. I hope that should the worst occur after my death, that by providing you with this document, we can prevent my family and my country from being torn apart. Measures have been taken in order to prevent my greatest fears, however that may not be enough in the end.

Signed,
Jason
Dated: 12 March 2016

“The one with that northern princess?” Constantine gave his cousin a curious look. “And you spoke to him? I’m sorry you had to go through that, I know you don’t care for him at all given everything,” Constantine said after examining the letter and its authenticity.

“Yes, I spoke to him. And he may well be still in the city, but I’m not sure,” Leo thought of looking down at his hands, but kept his vision on his cousin. “I would have told you sooner, but the less ears on something like this…”

“Leo,” Constantine interrupted his cousin after putting the letter aside. “I understand and I can’t even begin to imagine how difficult it was being in the same room as that monster. Thank you for telling me the truth. Whatever my father feared, we’ll deal with. And if Albert’s still in the city we’ll deal with it then and there. And if he’s falsifying documents to reach audiences, then we’ll deal with that too. But I don’t understand why Marsella didn’t say anything if she knew father sent this to Albert?”

“I wondered the same, and I even asked her. But she didn’t know he actually sent it,” Leo replied. “If uncle was so worried about the loyalty of those around him that he even kept his plans secret from everyone, even Marsella...well you should speak with her.”

Constantine with his head against the back of the chair with his eyes closed. “It’s like one fire after another isn’t it?” he reached for his glass of whisky, finishing the full glass in a single gulp.

“It’ll probably be this way for a while,” Leo added solemnly.

“Probably. Things are far from over,” Constantine leaned forward, rubbing his forehead before running his hand down over his face. “Hopefully the investigation gives us all a little more clarity going forward.”

“Well that’s what investigations are for, aren’t they?” Leo added before looking at his watch. “I should probably get ready to call it a night, unless you need anything else.”

“Nothing more, go get some rest,” Constantine sounded off to Leo with a weak smile, now standing and approaching the room’s fireplace. “Have a good night.”

With that Leo collected his book, stood and approached the door. “You as well,” he told Constantine before exiting the room. Constantine looked over his shoulder at Leo and nodded in agreement. And just before Leo exited the room he said, “Things will get easier.”

---

o o o o o o o

---

The Emperor of Ghant’s chamber was a mess of clothes, alcohol and papers. Perhaps in the beginning he made an effort to keep things organized, but without the presence of his cousin Cassandra or his half-sister Alexia, the Emperor’s organizational abilities deteriorated rapidly. Perhaps he just doesn’t give a shit, Anastasia thought as she tapped the pieces of her cousin’s kerbasi set with her index finger. Can’t say I blame him…

“This game sucks,” Anastasia said in a resigned tone to her cousin, who sat across from her in a brown tunic with silver buttons and trim. She on the other hand wore a beige shift with black leggings and a black band to keep her hair somewhat tied behind her back. “It’s pathetic that this is what you depend upon to keep yourself from getting bored. Well, that and drinking, but then again, that goes without saying…

The Emperor moved his mammoth piece after some careful consideration, and then replied, “you know my intention is to remain here until all of the other foreign armies are gone,” he explained nonchalantly. “I need to demonstrate my commitment to the regime...we will need them later, I can assure you.”

We, he says. “If it’s Deweden you’re talking about, I don’t get what the big deal is.” Anastasia moved her dragon piece listlessly. “It’s a frozen shit rock on the edge of the world, with all it’s got going for it being oil and pride...and Ghant’s got plenty of oil. I guess pride is the new precious resource worth developing policy over?”

“You know, Anastasia,” Nathan laughed as he moved a trebuchet piece against her dragon. “For someone as smart as you, you sure are short-sighted. What do you think happens if Rietumimark gains an advantage in Begora?”

“...They talk a little more shit and shake their fists in anger at NCTO,” she pursed her lips. “Whoopdy-fucking do. They have the force projection capabilities of a petty Thulish king.”

“And if they get nukes?” the Emperor asked. “What then? Hmm?”

“Then they have the means of achieving mutually assured destruction with Arthurista,” she laughed as she realized her dragon was doomed. “Alright, you know what? Fuck this game.” Having said that, Anastasia stood up and grabbed a half-full bottle of vodka and a Ghantboy lunchbox on the ramshackled table. “I’m going to go for a walk and smoke a blunt...see you later.”

Nathan sighed in exasperation and stood up. “Be careful...mind who sees you. I don’t us to develop a poor reputation at court here. We don’t need that.”

Anastasia stopped once she reached the door, and looked back at her cousin over her shoulder. “Oh don’t worry, we already got one of those, no thanks to you. I doubt I can make it much worse.” She bowed like she was leaving the stage of a performance, and opened the door. She brushed past the guards and strolled down the hall, taking a generous swig of the vodka bottle.

Having just left the Imperial Apartments, Prince Leo was walking through the halls towards his own chambers. He moved along with a Praetorian following him, a more common occurrence for everyone who held a Latin Imperial title, along with a second man carrying a large brown bag with an open folder in his hands. The Prince was speaking with the second man when he noticed Anastasia galavanting through the halls. “Anastasia...what are you doing?” he looked up and asked once he was within earshot.

Anastasia smiled when she saw her cousin Prince Leo, and cracked a wide grin before speaking in Ghantish. “Going for a walk...admiring the architecture.” she observed him and the Praetorian more carefully. “You know Leo...Grandmother always used to say that you should walk with your guards in front of you, as you can only trust family to have your back,” she teased. “I guess not even that’s true anymore, is it?” she took a gulp of vodka after asking.

“That depends on the relative I suppose,” Leo replied, quickly looking down to the floor and back up again. “If you’re only off for a walk I’ll leave you to it. I just wanted to make sure you weren’t lost. This place can be confusing for most newcomers. You aren’t lost are you?”

“What if I am?” she chuckled in response. “I enjoy being lost. Having things figured out is boring, you know, and being lost is a good way of finding yourself. You should try it sometime...you might like it too.” After another drink, she threw up her hand and added, “besides, I like to think of it as exploring...in an unknown direction.”

“Perhaps I’ll try it when things are less crazy,” Leo smiled to his cousin with closed lips. “You feel free to explore away though.”

Anastasia gave him a peering gaze. “You sure you don’t want to come along?” she rattled her lunchbox. “You’re stressed out...I think you could benefit from a smoke of some good herb.”

“I’m active duty, and I besides, I think I could benefit from more than my usual three or four hours of sleep,” Leo chuckled lightly. “I’d be careful who sees you with that, it’s not legal here like it is in Ghant. You might need an Imperial pardon if you’re caught.”

The Princess laughed. “I doubt getting an Imperial Pardon would be hard...Constantine is prone to excessive flattery where I’m concerned,” she smirked. “Go hang out with your brother...he gets a solid eight hours of sleep a night...at least. Sometimes ten!”

“Ten hours? What a treat that would be,” Leo smiled at the thought. “But Constantine...he has a great deal going on. That pardon could very well be lost in all of the mess if you’re not careful, especially after the Pompilia girl arrives,” he began with a lighthearted tease before trending towards a more serious look. “Hell, he could do with the extra rest and relaxation more than I.”

“I’m sure,” she agreed. “He always looks tired. So do you. Try to sleep more, leave the pencil pushing to your aids or whatever.” Anastasia took another drink of vodka and shook her lunchbox. “Well Leo, I got some work to do...gotta earn those Imperial pardons, after all.”

“I’ll try,” Leo nodded and raised an eyebrow. Before he began to walk away with his guard and assistant he said, “Enjoy the rest of your night, cousin. Hopefully you’ll get lost at some point.”

“God willing,” she agreed humorously before she continued walking in the direction she was initially heading. At the very least, Leo made for some interesting small talk, though he was a bit too uptight in her mind. Always worried about this thing and that thing. The thought gave her the chills. As she walked, she looked for a place where she could enjoy some alone time and smoke in peace. She happened to come upon such a place in the form of a secluded room, or so it seemed...

Further down the hall, one of the Latin emperor’s guards noticed Anastasia head towards a room. “Mi Lady, that room is off-limits,” the Praetorian informed her as others turned the corner and became visible. “If you’re lost I can have someone escort you to your chambers.”

“No, it’s alright. She’s with me. That will be all, thank you,” Constantine said to his guard as he walked towards the guard, Anastasia and the doorway. The Praetorian bowed at the Emperor’s command and retreated from the pair.

“This room’s off-limits huh?” Anastasia asked with an arched eyebrow. “What’s in there that makes it restricted? Is that where you keep your bondage gear, alien bodies or your treasure?”

“The alien bodies I suspect. We keep them close just in case,” Constantine said with a laugh, motioning for them to enter the room. “But no, most all of the rooms in this area of the palace are off-limits if you’re...well not me or family. This is the Map Room I think, not much special about it. Please, feel free.”

Anastasia offered him her bottle of vodka. “You want something to drink? It’s strong, but as I say, you gotta be strong to be kind,” she laughed. I’ll keep what’s in the lunchbox to myself…

“Sure, why not. There should be more to drink in here anyway,” Constantine took hold of the bottle and entered the room. The Emperor took a quick pull from the bottle and handed it back to her. The inside of the room looked similar to most of the others on this floor, with paintings along the walls, a television above the fireplace mantle and furniture and tables spread throughout. Along one of the walls was a small liquor cabinet. “Did you pack a lunch all the way from Ghish?”

“...Something like that,” she told him bashfully. “I think I’m going to check out the wares in here.” Once inside the room she set down her lunchbox and began skimming through the cabinets. “Not a bad selection at all. Well done.”

“It’s a surprise some of this wasn’t looted,” Constantine smiled as he looked at her. He moved towards the cabinet and inspected it as well, gravitating towards a bottle of whiskey. He grabbed a bottle and looked for some glasses. “Aged thirty years, that’s probably a good thing right?” he added as he finally found two empty glasses, then continued, “You know...I think this is the first time I’ve been in this room since I’ve been home...since my father died.”

“...There seem to be a lot of rooms,” Anastasia observed. “I doubt that many could be looted...assuming people could find them first. There are rooms in Inperiala Palace that nobody’s been in since the days of the Mad Emperor. Rooms within rooms, secret rooms, you get the idea.”

Constantine opened the bottle and poured into the two glasses with a nod of his head. “Maybe that’s why they built these buildings like mazes,” he placed the cap back on the bottle and walked the glasses over to Anastasia.

“I can imagine.” Having said that, Anastasia opened her lunchbox and produced a cigarillo and a ziploc bag of marijuana. “I hope you don’t mind...I could use a smoke. You want one?”

“Go ahead. None for me though,” the Emperor sat down on the nearby couch. He shook his head with a sigh as held the glass in his hands, though rested them on his lap. “How did you end up here? In Latium I mean…”

Anastasia laughed. “Cassandra made me go...probably to serve as a companion to your sister and the other girls...fuck if I know,” she explained as she rolled up the blunt. “I’ve just been going through the currents.”

“Maria said the trip had its moments of enjoyment at least. ” Constantine stood from his seat after taking a sip of his whiskey and grabbing the bottle. Before walking over towards Anastasia, he quickly emptied his glass. By the time he was near her he said, “And those currents brought you here tonight?”

“...More like boredom and the desire to keep myself entertained,” she said as she finished packing her cigarillo. After lighting it and taking a deep drag, Anastasia exhaled and added that “Adventure is one of life’s finest endeavors.”

“Hopefully you’re getting your fill then,” Constantine smiled to her. He filled his glass once more, though took no drink and only let it sit.

Anastasia found a place to sit as she smoked, and chased the puffs down with Constantine’s whiskey. “Did you find any good intel to pass along to the Edomites? You know they’re frothing at the mouths for whatever you might be able to produce about the Jedorians.”

“We have, and we’re still gathering all we can,” Constantine said in reply. He removed his navy blue suit jacket and rested it along the back of the couch. “Anything that hurries the departure of those Mites the better. A despicable lot.”

“...You shouldn’t say that too loud,” Anastasia warned him between smokes. “They have eyes and ears everywhere. They’re in the fucking walls, man,” she laughed before taking another drink. “Besides, they’re important to my country’s destiny...apparently. That’s what Nathan says, anyway.”

“Oh I believe it, Nathan said the same thing when you all arrived. Only he was entirely serious on the matter,” Constantine joined in Anastasia’s laughter. “They’re so important but they don’t respect him. They just treat your country like you owe fealty. They’re not some unstoppable force,” he likely could have kept speaking ill of the Edomites and others, but he stopped himself. “Forgive me, you didn’t come here to listen to me complain about them.”

“You’re right,” she laughed. “I came here to get high. I would’ve gone outside but Leo told me that I could get arrested or some shit, and then I’d need you to pardon me. We all know you would too,” she laughed some more.

“Oh would I now?” Constantine burst out with a laugh. “And what makes you so confident I’d grant such a pardon? You’re my cousin’s cousin, I can’t be showing any favoritism.”

The Ghantish Princess took a swig of whiskey. “...Because you like me enough to do that. It wouldn’t bode well for your chances if you didn’t either,” she chuckled before taking another hit off her blunt. “That’s a big part of life, you know...knowing what you can get away with, and knowing what leverage you have and how to use it.”

“True, it could set me back,” Constantine smiled before looking more somber. “Use that leverage while you can, I’m supposed to announce an engagement soon. A lot of good granting that pardon will do me then,” he tried to smile again.

“One that you don’t want I’m sure,” she laughed some more. “What force would compel an Emperor so?”

“Government...I suppose or the need for allies at a time when I thought I needed them more than I actually did,” Constantine leaned back in his seat. “I’d been ambivalent over the agreement the entire time, but now…everything’s been moving so fast...you’re right, I don’t want to marry her.”

Anastasia laughed before taking another drag, and began to cough. “So then don’t. Problem solved.”

“I wish it was that simple. Things are still delicate and I’ll need her father’s support,” Constantine’s voice trailed off.

“...Will you lose the throne otherwise?” she asked him bluntly. “The weight of the crown comes from the people, not from some opportunistic politician.”

“No the Senate can’t remove the Monarch,” Constantine slowly turned his head towards her with raised eyebrows. “I need to rebuild trust with the people....”

“And how do you expect to do that by marrying the daughter of a politician?” she laughed raucously. “You know how politicians are. Popular one day, and then the next they’re being chased out with pitchforks. The Imperial Office is supposed to be above all that shit, not lockstep with it. The people will want an Emperor that’s above the politics and not just another goon, like your brother...no offense.”

“I don’t know. I hardly know what to think anymore,” Constantine replied, though hadn’t found any of this as humorous as Anastasia had. “I gave them my word, but I keep thinking back to my mother and father. There weren’t two people alive who despised each other more. I don’t want that.”

“And the girl just tells me what I want hear. It’s like she doesn’t have a independent thought all her own. She just smiles, nods her head and calls it cunning, thinking I don’t know what she’s doing,” Constantine paused for a moment before turning to face Anastasia. “I can’t stand it. She’s nothing like...you.”

Anastasia laughed again. “Like me eh? Well, I certainly don’t tell people what they want to hear. I’ve often found that hard truths are more helpful than soft lies. That’s what my grandmother used to say, anyway.”

“Yes I know. You speak to me truthfully, through all of my attempts to flatter you and even now,” Constantine told her, sprouting a smile midway through. “Sometimes your words make me think one way, but then you move another. It’s endearing in a way.”

“...Flattery is a kind of bad money,” Anastasia explained. “To which our vanity gives us currency. None are more vain than my sister, and as such, I’ve learned to enjoy being broke,” she laughed, taking another hit and chasing it with a drink of whiskey from the bottle.

“Flattery it may be, but I meant every word of it. And that’s the truth, though maybe not a hard truth,” Constantine stated, reaching for the bottle of whiskey from her. He smiled. “You’re truly unlike anyone I’ve ever met. You also confuse me more than anyone I’ve ever met.”

Chuckling, she nodded in agreement with a grin. “You know why I think that is? You’ve spent so much of your life living according to other people’s standards and expectations, that you’ve never really lived a life you could call your own. I was like that one, and then one day, I decided that I was just going to be myself, and live life according to my own compass. You’re like the caged wolf that sees another one walking free, and the very notion is confusing.” Anastasia leaned forward in her seat, and looked Constantine square in the eyes. “Here’s the good news. You’re an Emperor, and there’s not very many of those. You could literally live your life the way you want to now. All you have to do is decide that it’s time to do just that. Worry about pleasing yourself, instead of those around you that have their expectations and desires as far as you’re concerned. It’s not as hard as you’d think.”

Constantine listened intently, looking right back at Anastasia’s eyes as she spoke. His eyes wandered at one point while he considered her words, though he couldn’t keep them off her for long. As she leaned forward, so did he. And when she finished he rose from his seat, his gaze still fixed on her. “You’re right. I want to do that. I want to do that with you,” he moved towards her seat and sat on the small table across from her, which had previously separated them. He reached out his hand and took hers as he left a lump in his throat. “I want to live my life with you, not someone chosen for me...that is what I want. By God, by any god anywhere, by whomever I swear it,” he finished, leaning forward towards her.

Anastasia gave him a coy look, with squinty eyes and a mewling smile. “With me, eh? That’s...rather flattering. Little ol’ me,” she laughed, before leaning just a little bit closer. “You know, Constantine, you talk an awful lot. I listen to talkers all the time. Perhaps you should spend a little more time showing, and perhaps I might be more convinced,” she teased him.

“Consider it a compliment,” Constantine inched forward from his seat on the table with a smile. He still held her hand, though now he leaned in the rest of the way and kissed her with his other hand now on her leg.

For a moment she kissed him back, before pulling away in order to say, “that’s a start.” Then she returned to kiss him once more.

Constantine smiled when she pulled away, but it didn’t last long once she came back at him. His hand moved from her leg to her back pulling her right up to him as he continued to kiss her with growing passion. A moment later, Constantine reached for her top and and helped it off as he did to his own shirt before turning his attention back to her. Their lips hardly separated until he fully pulled her into his lap and anything that remained on the table soon fell to the floor, vodka and whiskey included.

[Lacus Magni]

Zoe
Castellum ab Alba

Nearly an hour ago, a private jet departed from Utica’s Sulpicius Regional Airport carrying Zoe Verruscosi, her assistant Xene, a Praetorian assigned to her protection and most unfortunately her eldest brother John. Zoe made sure that all she required for a lengthy stay in Castellum was brought along on this flight, or another that was to follow, as she no intention to return to her Utican estate, or my former prison, anytime soon.

She even dressed in a black dress for the occasion, something her brother had warned her of before their left her estate. Unwise he called it to mourn the death of a son. I wonder if he’d say the same if it were his own son who was just murdered. Maybe we should find out, she thought back to how rude and cruel her brother was earlier today and even the preceding months. Not even my brothers care for me now. Constantine...Selene, they’re the only ones who matter. We're the only ones who matter. They’re all I have left in this world.

John spoke to her rarely throughout the short flight, though every time he opened his mouth Zoe turned her head in the other direction. He spoke again just after the pilot announced they were preparing their landing approach. “I know this has all been very hard on you, Zoe,” he began to speak. At least he didn’t call me Vulpecula for once, she thought as John continued to talk. “But please, try not to be overdramatic or make a scene. At least until we reach the Palatine. That’s all I ask.”

Should I even waste my time and shout at him?, she debated for a moment but instead only glared at her elder brother before turning her focus right back to the window next to her seat.

Her brother didn’t care much for the evil scowl, causing him to sigh and rub his forehead. “Please say something, Zoe. Everyone is worried about you. Your son is worried about you, as is your daughter. So am I,” he spoke again, though Zoe continued to look out the window towards the ground below. “Did you know he’ll be marrying soon? The Pompilia girl...Anna, I think is her name. Would you like to meet her while we’re around?”

“No he’s not,” Zoe said candidly, though never turned away from the window.

John let out a boastful laugh. “What do you mean he’s not? I’ve heard it from him and I’ve heard it from the Florentine who spoke with the girl’s father. They’ll be engaged come the new year.”

“Do you want me to say it again?” Zoe snapped at her brother. “I know my son better than anyone ever will. Constantine isn’t marrying that girl.”

“He’d be fool not to at this point,” John said with a laugh although his tone suggested something far more serious.

Their plane soon touched down on the runway, coming to a halt not long after. Once the all clear was given from their pilots, John unlatched his seatbelt and went to help Zoe up from her seat. “I lost a child, not my legs,” she ignored his hand and helped herself up from the seat, skirting past her brother without another word. Her assistant Xene hurried after her, holding onto Lady Zoe’s handbag and waiting at the door for the crew to allow them to exit. Zoe peered out the nearest window, expecting to see her dear, first born boy Constantine waiting down below to welcome her with his baby sister Selene.

The plane door opening and stairs dropping seemed to last an eternity. It was the only thing keeping Zoe from gazing upon the beautiful faces of her only two living children. She was only moments away and yet wait was destroying her again. “Hurry will you,” Zoe barked in Hellenic to whomever was listening. And just before the door was open, she turned on a smile and readied herself to rush down to embrace her dear children.

But when the door opened, no one was there to welcome her. Not Constantine, not Selene, not even a damned motorcade or car. She wanted to collapse then and there when she realized her children weren’t there and cared little for her. If not for her brother gripping her arm she likely would have collapsed. “Come on, Zoe,” he whispered to her in Hellenic before walking her down the stairs to the tarmac.

Off in the distance, the group could see a singular man running towards their landed plane. Zoe looked to the Praetorian as he was exiting the plane and the stern looking bodyguard walked down cautiously with right hand ready on his sidearm and his vision focused on the runner. The runner quickly reached Zoe and the group as they waited just outside of the plane, bowing to her and quickly dropping to a knee before rising again. Based on his uniform and badge hanging around his next, it became clear he was an employee of the airport. “My Lord, my Lady,” he panted, short of breath. “The Emperor sends his apologies.”

And my son couldn’t even send one of his own, only this lowly peon to deliver to tell me he doesn’t care for his mother any longer, Zoe stared towards her brother as if she was near tears, but the runner carried with his explanation. “Your flight arrived earlier than he expected. He’ll be here shortly.”

“See, he’s on his way. You worry far too much,” John rubbed her shoulder, though not before buttoning his jacket in the hopes of providing for protection from the wind. The weather in Castellum was average for Christmas Eve, though warmer than northern parts of the nations; though the wind made the near mid-fifty degree temperature feel far cooler.

And hardly minutes later her son, The Emperor, arrived in middle of a Praetorian and police escorted motorcade in the official state car, which was marked with the purple and gold outlined banner of the Imperial office and the Lesser Arms of House Claudius centered on the banner. The motorcade and all of it’s associated vehicles came to a stop just feet away from the two Verruscosi and their other companions. A man in a plain black suit, sunglasses, and wool jacket was the first and only person to exit the front of the state car. With a quick look at the surroundings, the guard opened a back door of the car and outwalked her first-born son — Constantine.

Zoe took one look at him and the tears began to run down her face. She walked towards her son with a hurried pace, and Constantine moved towards her with wind kicking his black overcoat open. “Mother,” he said with a warm smile as Zoe finally held her son in her arms once again. Zoe wrapped her arms around him with all the strength that she could muster, feeling his head against her shoulder and her hand at the back head where his longer, wavy, pushed back hair covered most of his neck.

She pulled him back so she could look at his face once more, her hand finding his thick brown hair. He trembled slightly that much Zoe could tell, but he looked unnerved. “My sweet, sweet boy….I missed you so much,” she took a deep breath and worked out a meek smile. “I’d almost forgotten how handsome you were….”

“I missed you too,” he replied as his mother held him tight.

“Where is your sister?”

“She’s at home resting,” Constantine said, his mother looking unaware of what he meant. “Her ankle, she’s resting and told me to give you her apologies for not being here.”

“Ah...I understand” she whispered to her son and wiped her own tears away. “You look tired...you should get more sleep,” Zoe gripped him by the arms one last time before finally releasing him.

Constantine gave her a nod and smile before looking to his uncle. “Uncle John,” he said with a roar as John Verruscosi approached the pair. The Emperor stepped aside and gave his uncle a brief embrace.

“Your Majesty,” John bowed his head after their short hug. “You look well.”

“As do you,” he smiled weakly. “Come, let’s get out of the cold.”

Zoe walked nearest to her son as she, Constantine and her brother John approached the state car. A guard opened the car doors, allowing the Emperor and his mother to enter the back and and John filing into the front seat afterwards. “Are we off to the palace?” John asked once everyone was situated.

“The crypt,” Constantine replied. “I thought you may want to take a moment to uhh...pay your respects, mother.”

Only because he wishes for me to get all of my mourning out now, though Zoe responded with silence and a nod of her head in approval. The drive to the crypt was near ten minutes as all traffic along the motorcade’s route was stopped by local police until the emperor reached his destination. Along the way, Zoe spoke at length of her desire for a family dinner with her children, Audric of Vannois and even Constantine’s intended. However, that was the only mention of Constantine’s proposed marriage for the time being as Zoe took notice of her son’s reactions to her mention.

And then they arrived at the neoclassical styled outer buildings of the crypts, with the Palace of Augustus atop the Palatine hill looking down on them. John exited the vehicle first once they came to a stop, helping his sister out of the car, and the Emperor funneling out last. Zoe took in her surroundings, having visited the crypts only once before during the funeral procession of Leo X Augustus nearly twenty years prior. Other than that sole occasion, she did her best to steer clear of it and hoped that she would never have to lay eyes upon it or her lay one of her own children to rest here. The thought of seeing her Michael made her sadder than she possibly imagined, though based on facial expressions alone, neither her son or her brother seemed to hold any type of sorrow.

A Praetorian in full ceremonial garb was stationed at the front entrance, stepping aside for the Imperial party to enter and take the steps down to the main level. Inside the entryway rotunda was the casket of Emperor Jason VI Augustus prominently displayed directly below the center of the ceiling’s dome. “Is that really him….is that your father?”

Confused, Constantine raised an eyebrow. “Yes. His ashes are inside of an urn within at least. Michael disregarded father’s burial wishes…” he looked on as Zoe walked past the decorative casket marked with the heraldic achievement of the Claudii and ran her fingers across the top of it with a wide grin.

“And your brother?” she said as that grin faded and stared into her son’s eyes. “Where is he?”

Constantine couldn’t look his mother in the eye, shifting his focus to the floor, his dead father and even his uncle John. “Down the nearest flight of stairs and to the left,” he said, standing stationary near his father’s casket, refusing to move along with his mother - something that made Zoe think of her divorce all over again.

She took a few steps before it clicked that Constantine wouldn’t be accompanying her, nor was John. “Aren’t you coming?” she turned and looked over he shoulder at the two of them with a heavy sadness.

“No,” Constantine told her plainly. “Take all the time you need, I’ll here when you’re ready.”

Zoe bit her tongue and simply walked away towards Michael’s resting place. She followed her son’s instructions, walking down the stone steps to the next level of the crypt and turning to her left. The sound of her high-heels hitting the old stone floors reverberated throughout the narrow walkway as she passed by the tombs of other royal or imperial dead, ignoring them as if they were no one of importance.

Finally, she came upon Michael’s tomb. The stonework looked fresh, with the carving of his name in the largest writing. His birthdate, death-date and cause of death were found below — his cause of death listed as killed in action. She began to cry yet again, her hand running over the letters of his name. She cried out for her youngest son, asking God why He saw it fit to take him from her. He was my son...my baby boy. Why God? Why?, she kept saying to herself with a voice too weak for her to be audible.

“Why do you punish me? You take and you take and you take from me. My father, my youth, my innocence, my son…” Zoe muttered softly in Hellenic, though no one was around. “I know he wasn’t perfect nor an angel, but he was my son. You had no right...” She brushed a tear off her cheek before kissing her hand and placing it on Michael’s name. She closed her eyes, holding her hand against his name with a deep breath. Zoe remained a few moments longer before she attempted to compose herself and return to her son. My only son.

Zoe took one long, last look at her son’s resting place before removing her hand. When she turned to walk away her legs struggled to move. You need to go, her thoughts told her as her feet finally began to shuffle along the stone floors. After she brushed her face clear of any remaining tears Zoe headed up the steps and to Constantine and John.

The two had been talking when Zoe reached the highest step, but she couldn’t tell quite what they were discussing as they both hushed once they heard her shoes clopping against the ground. “Are you alright?” Constantine appeared concerned for his mother, taking a few steps toward her.

Zoe nodded, clasping her hands and holding them to her chest. “May I have a word with my son,” Zoe directed to her brother, though looked at Constantine.“Alone,” she finally turned to her brother, who in turn looked to Constantine for approval, which he received.

“I’ll be in the car,” John replied before bowing his head and excusing himself. The main entrance closed behind him after he exited, the heavy doors creaking as they did.

“Killed in action?” Zoe fixed her eyes on the steps leading to Michael’s tomb. He can’t hate me for asking a single question, can he?

Constantine lingered near the center of the room, his hands reaching into his pockets. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it before uttering a word with his tongue pressing the inside of his mouth. “A few hours before the palace raid took place,” he was hesitant, looking for the right words. “Their orders were to arrest him, but he was killed some of his former guard before any of my soldiers arrived. I’m sorry things happened the way they did but….the things he did, they can’t be so easily forgiven.”

Zoe was near tears once again, her heart nearly shattering as she felt Constantine’s enmity towards his deceased brother. But she did her best to hold them back, for she didn’t want to alienate her only remaining son. “Mother, if you need some more time I can go outside or….”

“No, I’ll be fine,” Zoe interrupted Constantine, and while he appeared anything but convinced he went along with it. Zoe took a step towards her son, who still lingered at the center of the room. He was hesitant though that didn’t deter her. “I’m worried about you, Kostas. You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“There’s nothing to worry about,” he looked to the floor when she finally stood between him and his father’s casket.

“I’m your mother, there’s everything to worry about,” she momentarily took his hand. “You have many enemies, we have many enemies.”

“And who are our enemies?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Everyone who isn’t us is an enemy,” she said, but Constantine didn't take the advice to be serious.

“Are you trying to turn this into some parental talk when you puff your chest and tell me to send Leo and them all away...like you asked father to do so many times? I won’t.”

“I don’t like the boy. But no, I’m not asking you to do that,” Zoe confusing her son even more. “Tell me about this girl you’re supposed to marry. The Pompilia girl?”

Constantine shook his head, “That’s not happening any more. I’m calling it off.”

Zoe smiled and said, “Does she know that? Or her father? He’s a very powerful man. Then yet again, so are you.”

“Not yet. I’m going to tell them after the holiday,” Constantine nodded his head as if he was thinking more than what he revealed.

“And the other girl, what’s her name?” Zoe grinned proudly as her son appeared to be inspecting the floor.

“What makes you think there’s another girl?”

“What’s her name?” Zoe gave her son a coy look as her stared bashfully at the floor.

“Anastasia,” he replied to his mother, looking up to her with a budding smile.

“Ah, a Hellene then. That’s good,” her son’s smile made her smile for the first time in months. Oh, he thinks he loves her. “I imagine your uncles would approve of that, even if they are so far up Pompilius’ ass it’s a surprise they don’t suffocate.”

“No. Ghantish,” Constantine stated bluntly. He took his hands out of his pockets and crossed his arms. And here he comes, ready to plant his foot down like when he was a boy, she thought as her son continued to explain who this mystery woman was. “We met last June at her cousin’s wedding in Allamunnika. She’s here now, well at the palace.”

Keeping Ghantish whores in the palace, is this my son or his father? “Is this the one your sister told me about, the crass Gentry girl?” Zoe said uncomfortably given Constantine's knowledge her own known dislike of the country and his closeness with Prince Leo of Ghant.

“Oh, please, mother. Just stop it, you don’t know anything about her. Selene doesn’t know anything about her. Neither of you know her like I do,” Constantine snorted and seemed irritated. “And I don’t want to hear you talk poorly of her or her family again. Most of all when we return home…”

I should have been more forceful and raised him all my own. God willing it would have prevented those people from sinking their filthy claws into him. Zoe shook her head and held her hands up, showing Constantine her palms. “I only mean to know if you’re aware what spurning the Pompilia girl will do. Are you aware? Is this Gentry girl worth it, Kostas?”

The Emperor nodded his head. “She is, absolutely,” he said firmly.

“You’re going to marry her then?”

“I’d like to. We’ll see. Things are kind of just starting. So Ana and I are working on figuring them out.”

Constantine smiled before staring at his at his mother. She went to hug him one more time and said, “This girl makes you happy doesn't she? You are my son, and you were put on this earth to rule. And By the Grace of God it is Your right. This world is yours...anything you want is yours. If this girl makes you happy, well, that's all I want to see.”

“We should get going, Selene will want to see you,” Constantine said as he smiled after looking at his watch.

Zoe nodded and began to walk out of the crypt with her son. As exited the building and approached the state car she said, “I’d like to meet her, this girl. Maybe something after the new year, I wouldn’t want to put a fright in her so suddenly.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” the Emperor helped his mother into the state car after a Praetorian opened the door and then they were off for the Palace of Augustus where Zoe would be reunited with her daughter.

---

Felix Verruscosi Building
Justice Department
Mons Pincius, Castellum

Peter Abronius was first appointed Emperor’s Counsel in 2007, and later made Attorney General by Emperor Jason VI Augustus in February 2016, though at the recommendation of his wife, the now Dowager Empress Marsella. Abronius had remained silent during the first month or so of the succession crisis, only coming to Emperor Constantine’s aid a week after the Consul and Senate had. The Attorney General, among others, was a personal witness to the signing and drafting of the late Emperor’s Last Will and Testament, though more by convention of office and not so as a close confidant.

Abronius had called for a meeting at the Felix Verruscosi Building, the headquarters of Latium’s Justice Ministry, located in the Mons Pincius borough of Castellum. In a conference room of an upper-level floor, the Attorney General was joined by the freshly appointed Special Prosecutor for investigation of Prince Michael’s associates and the coup, Paul Ummidius, also a member of Emperor’s Counsel; recently promoted Deputy Prefect, and former Legate in the Latin Army, Celus Fontieus of the Praetorian Guard; Secretary of State for Justice Leo Sevso; and Damiane Tineia of His Majesty’s Imperial Offices.

The group had begun with the list of names provided to Attorney General Abronius by Emperor Constantine’s personal assistant, which had served as the initial base for the investigation. Among those listed were all known associates of Michael within the Palace of Augustus at the time just before the Prince’s death, including Antonia Frontalia; Adrian Ulpius - The Duke of Haenna - the man who provided Michael with a permanent justice; along with other high profile names John Synnodus, the now former leader of the far-right nationalist, Popular Social Party; and even names of those not directly linked to Michael such as suspected crime boss, Victor d'Tolosa. Though not on the official list from the Palatine, a name that was also intended to be discussed was Andronikos Mavrozomes, the former leader of the now defunct Scholarian Guard.

“The Frontalia girl has been very open whenever we’ve spoke with her regarding Michael’s dealings, whether they be domestic or foreign. Her lawyers have been seeking a severe lessening of her charges due to her cooperation,” Special Prosecutor Paul Ummidius spoke up when the conversation led to a discussion of the names and what information they had been able to gather from them. “She spoke at length of Michael’s with the Edomites near the beginning of the coup, as did she of Akai’s intentions to provide ground support for the rebellion.”

“We believe that this was what the naval standoff between allied and Akai navies was regarding around the time of the boy’s death,” added Deputy Prefect Fontieus. Fontieus had recently been appointed, by the Emperor on the recommendation of Prince Leo, to oversee the Praetorians assigned to take over former Scholarian duties.

“Her testimony, along with the documents confiscated by Latin forces following the Palatine raid will prove to be extremely beneficial throughout this investigation,” Special Prosecutor Ummidius continued. “She also spoke at length of Prince Michael being increasingly ‘unhinged’ in the latter days of his, well life. He was, quote ‘losing his mind...and only searching for more bastards.’ Ms. Frontalia has also providing a list of those whom Michael was responsible for killing and those who carried out the killings.”

“However, she still claims to be unaware of Prince Michael’s role in the death of His Majesty Jason Augustus, correct?” Ms. Tineia of the Imperial Offices inquired from the Special Prosecutor.

“That’s correct, Ms. Tineia,” Special Prosecutor Ummidius nodded his head. “Records we’ve obtained, along with third party testimony have corroborated Ms. Frontalia’s own statements that she was not in the capital on 11 September 2016, only arriving on…” Ummidius paused, scanning through his notes, “…the 14th.”

“The Emperor remains confident that more information regarding His Imperial Majesty’s death will become apparent in the coming weeks,” Tineia added before turning to the any others in the room who wished to add more about Frontalia. When it was clear no one had anything further to add, she said with her pen in hand, “The Attorney General’s recommendation?”

Abronius pushed his glasses down his nose some and looked to his notes. “For the charges of High Treason and accomplice to regicide with the penalty of death, the Attorney General recommends life imprisonment, parole after forty. However, given Ms. Frontalia’s cooperation, we find ten years imprisonment or twenty years house arrest to be acceptable.”

“The Duke of Haenna,” Special Prosecutor Ummidius pulled the next file, with a photograph of Adrian Ulpius-Anicius, 4th Duke of Haenna attached to the front. “His Grace has been cooperative in regards to our requests and has refused his right to proper counsel. His rights as a peer complicate any such trial he’d face.”

“He served as a member of Prince Michael’s personal guard from September until sometime in late November,” the Special Prosecutor nodded before continuing. “His own statement, as well as Ms. Frontalia’s records demonstrate that he was declared an enemy of Prince Michael and relayed orders for his arrest or death around the time Ms. Frontalia states he arrested and imprisoned former Consul Dowager Duchess of Vindóbona. He’s also the…”

“The one we should thank for ending the fighting,” Deputy Prefect Fontieus added bluntly.

“His Imperial Majesty will be exercising his imperial prerogative by issuing a full pardon for The Duke of Haenna,” Imperial Offices representative Tineia stated confidently. “He wishes for no further discussion on the matter.”

“Duly noted,” Attorney General Abronius nodded, allowing Ummidius to carry on with the next individual. “Next”

“Regarding the John Synnodus and Senators of the Popular Social Party,” Special Prosecutor Ummidius moved on to the next group of individuals. “Most, including Leader Synnodus were key members of Prince Michael’s inner circle, providing political and policy advice. As far as the investigation goes, they offer little in the way of pertinent information on the level that Ms. Frontalia or others were able to provide.”

“Attorney General’s recommendation?” Ms. Tineia asked.

“The Attorney General recommends charges of treason for the deprivation and hinderance of His Majesty's lawful succession to the imperial crown, holding the penalty of death; however, life imprisonment, no parole is appears the most likely. But will fifty years imprisonment would be acceptable,” Abronius glanced at his notes. “Our friends at the Ministry of Justice have begun the process of banning the political organization, I'm told.”

“That’s correct,” Secretary of State for Justice Leo Sevso leaned back in his chair. “His Majesty and cabinet have agreed to initiate the process. The case will be presented to a judge at the start of the new year. We expect some pushback from their supporters and an appeal, though nothing terribly frustrating.”

“Next is Victor d'Tolosa,” Special Prosecutor Ummidius read off of the list of names.

“The crime lord,” Deputy Prefect Fontieus added with a laugh and roll of his eyes.

“Alleged,” Secretary Sevso said without looking up from his paper. Fontieus mocked the man by silently mouthing ‘alleged’ as he grinned.

“There is evidence that he was in contact with Prince Michael prior to 11 September 2016, based on phone records, emails and information from Ms. Frontalia,” the Special Prosecutor read his notes. “At this time we suspect he may have provided funding to Prince Michael; however, there is nothing further to suggest he or his known associates were complicit in the coup or the death of Emperor Jason VI Augustus. We’ll continue to look into his finances.”

“At this time the Attorney General cannot recommend charges for Mr. d'Tolosa.”

After moving on, the group discussed a number of other high value individuals accused of treason, including the great value of Antonia Frontalia’s openness in her testimony and willingness to provide record of all she could. Before concluding, the Special Prosecutor moved onto the topic of Andronikos Mavrozomes, the former Lord Commander of the Scholarian Guard.

At the present, Mavrozomes was still in Ghant, having been sent by the Duchess of Vindóbona as a show of goodwill after the foolish assault on the Marble Palace in late October. What the Duchess and her allies did not expect was Mavrozomes to survive long, having placed the entirety of the blame on him. Each individual was given transcripts from the Ghantish Parliamentary Inquiry pertaining to Princess Theodora of Ghant, the attack on the Marble Palace and the testimony of Mavrozomes. They also inquired to receive correspondence relating to Mavrozomes, Empress Marsella, and all matters pertaining to the death of Emperor Jason and the Marble Palace.

“This is pretty damning information,” Deputy Prefect Fontieus stated after skimming over the transcript of Mavrozomes speaking to the Ghantish Parliament. “Even with all of the deflection by the informed.”

“The Consul and Ministry of Justice, along with the Belisarian Commissioner for Foreign Affairs and Security Policy are working with our counterparts in Ghantish government towards the return of Lord Commander Mavrozomes to aid in the investigation,” the Attorney General led the discussion before turning to Ms. Tineia of the Imperial Officers for the Emperor’s opinion.

“Correct, Caesar has spoken with the Ghantish emperor regarding Lord Commander Mavrozomes and his return to Latium. He has been assured of Mavrozomes’ return,” Damiane Tineia added. “However, Emperor Constantine would prefer such an exchange to happen through the proper channels for the sake of transparency and the continued independence of this investigation, allowing for the Ministry of Justice and Foreign Secretary to work out the details.”

“Very well,” Attorney General Abronius nodded, closing the last of his folders and removing his glasses. “I wish you the best of luck Special Prosecutor Ummidius and we all await what your investigation brings to light. This meeting is at an end.”

[Lacus Magni]

Imperial Suite
Palace of Augustus
Castellum ab Alba
(Co-written with Ghant)

The main Imperial suite, within apartments of the Palace of Augustus, was a more secluded and personal area of the residence. Unlike the older Aemilian suite, it wasn’t a single room or even a wing closed off on it’s own. Instead the Imperial suite did not have a traditional point of entry and could be entered through the main hallway on the first floor of the residence. However, on the upper floors, the suite became more closed off from the rest until one reached the third floor where it was only reachable though formerly hidden doors.

On the third floor sat the Emperor’s bed chamber. While not the largest room of the suite, it was among the largest of the actual living quarters in the entire structure. It’s walls were beige and decorative though lacked any paintings or photographs, with the exception of a large television hanging off a wall opposite a larger-than-king sized bed, which was well kept and spotlessly made.

The Latin Emperor was within the adjoined bathroom, trimming his facial hair into a more kempt look. He was preparing for a string of public appearances within and around the capital; the upcoming, traditional upcoming Consul’s audience; and perhaps what he was worried most about - a dinner with his mother.

Constantine’s mother, Zoe, had been handling the death of Michael much better than he anticipated, though all he could think that meant was she was just seconds away from one highly embarrassing moment. And he desperately wanted to avoid that as far as Anastasia was concerned. Once his facial hair was trimmed to a sufficient stubble, the Emperor washed his face and after throwing on a plain white t-shirt, left the bedroom and walked into the connected living room.

The Emperor found a seat on one of the couches, across from the only television in this room. He pulled a folder off the nearby table, flipping it open and reading as he turned on the television, though keeping the volume low. He tried his best to keep focused on the papers, this folder pertaining to a report from the new Praetorian Deputy Prefect Celus Fontieus – who came highly recommended from Constantine's cousin, Prince Leo. But Constantine couldn’t take his mind off of all the things revolving around Anastasia.

Everyone privy to the information had their own opinions, though not all were about the girl and some simply of the situation. He received mixed reactions from his sisters. Maria seemed thrilled, mostly due to Constantine’s own happiness; however, she spoke highly of Anastasia after their trip through Ghant and Vannois together. While not told the who, Selene seemed entirely apathetic, though she’s been far more relaxed since coming home...not to mention with Audric being around, he thought as he looked up to the television, the broadcast discussing something about Liga Magna hockey and Liga Premier football.

Even Leo’s comments were a mixed bag. On the one hand he appeared happy for Constantine, that was clear enough, but on the other he said very little and even appeared to be holding back a few things. That struck Constantine as very odd, since they had shared almost everything with one another since they were boys. At least mother seemed to not hate the it, he thought as he started to doze off.

Constantine jolted forward in his seat when there was a knock at the door. He turned to face the door, his cousin Leo walking in only second later. “Oh, you saw the news then?” Leo pointed to the television, walking towards some tea and coffee that had been recently brought in.

“I wasn’t paying attention,” Constantine put the folder aside and watched Leo pour a cup of coffee. “Pour some for me, will you.”

Leo nodded and soon walked over with coffee for each of them. “It’s good, the sooner the athletics and the like get going again, the sooner everything will be back to normal again. It can’t come soon enough,” he smiled, handing Constantine his cup.

“I’m more concerned with my mother and this Consul’s audience at the moment,” Constantine said after nodding. “You think I’m making a mistake don’t you?”

Leo finished taking a drink before answering truthfully. “I don’t know,” he placed his cup down on the nearest table and sat across from his cousin. “Any other time or person maybe...I’d say it’s probably not the most prudent thing to do. But, and I mean no offense, your parents hated each other when they were forced into their marriage. Not to mention the Consul was trying to take advantage of you when we were all spread around and distracted.” He took a deep breath and shrugged his shoulders. “The heart wants what the heart wants. It also won’t be the end of the world after you tell the Consul your new plans. He’ll be upset, but what’s he going to do?”

“I mean, it might not be the most fun conversation you’ve ever had, but it’s just like ripping off a bandaid. Besides, he’s a politician and a rather bold one. That’s something you should distance yourself from.”

“What else? I know you’re holding something back,” Constantine said after a quick drink.

“She knows she can influence you, or at least likes to joke that she can. Again not the end of the world, but…that’s always something you should know.”

“I know,” he laughed lightly, “but I’m not concerned.”

“Well, if want any advice I know what your father would say to the Consul if he complained,” Leo said with a laugh. “He’d tell him…”

Constantine joined him with a laugh and together they said, “…to shove it up his ass.”

---

o o o o o o o

---

“...You can shove this game up your ass,” Anastasia said lightheartedly to her cousin, the Emperor of Ghant. “I swear to god you beat me every time, and it doesn’t matter what I do with this fucking dragon. You always find a way to kill it.”

Nathan laughed as he watched his cousin storm off from the table. He put the pieces away and observed, “you play the game intelligent until you lose patience, and then you overextend yourself and get pissed off when you start getting beat.”

“That’s because the game is boring as fuck and I don’t want it to take forever,” she laughed as she reached out for a bottle of alcohol. “If I played defense like you do, we’d be here all fucking day.”

“Sometimes, Anastasia, to win you have to play the long game,” her cousin explained as he continued putting the kerbasi set back in its case. “You have to spend time positioning your pieces, studying how the other person plays, and reacting accordingly. That’s why the key to this game is patience...waiting for the right opportunity to take control of the board.”

“Honestly, I got better things to do with my time than to worry about all that,” she countered teasingly.

The Emperor gave her a serious look. “Oh yeah, like what? Sneaking off to get high?”

“...Yeah, basically.”

“There’s something else, isn’t there?” Nathan asked with narrowed eyes. “You’ve been acting differently lately...less...crass.”

Anastasia laughed. “Crass, eh? I’m not really sure what to say, cousin, other than I’m in rather high spirits since I’m somewhere where my sister isn’t,” she replied, concerning Cassandra. “Nevermind all that though...we should talk about the situation here. Apparently, the Latins are gathering intel for the Edomites, we’re bleeding strength back to Ghant and Uncle Albert is perched in the Marble Palace until he feels satisfied enough to go back home.”

Indeed, the Ghantish lords had been steadily trickling back to Ghant by way of Vannois since they arrived in Castellum. Martin of Dakmoor was among the first to leave, as his wife was heavy with child. The men of Dakmoor mostly followed suit, and then those of Arrautsa and Gaemar. By the time the Emperor went back to Ghant, Anastasia suspected that most of the Ghantish would have already been departed.

“Aye, apparently this is so, about Uncle Albert,” the Emperor said as he rubbed his chin and sunk back into his cushy chair. “Hopefully he doesn’t get too comfortable, because I’m sure his presence is unsettling to some. Although I do appreciate his efforts in assessing the damage to the fine art there and his efforts to replace what was lost or damaged.”

“Speaking of assessing the damage,” Anastasia said lazily. “I should go look around the palace and admire the architecture. It’s become one of my favorite past times.”

The Emperor nodded slowly with a look of bewilderment. “Yes I’m sure. Go on then.” With that, Anastasia curtsied and showed herself out of the room and down the hall.

Nearing the Imperial suite, a woman walked alone through the halls, exiting one room and appearing to enter another. She paused before entering when a Praetorian began to approach, causing her to pull out her phone. With her other hand, she ran a hand down her brown hair, pushing it back behind her ear as the Praetorian whispered something into her ear. The woman turned away from the room she had been facing once the Praetorian was finished and began to walk in Anastasia’s direction with her phone in hand and guard following.

Anastasia stopped when she saw the woman, and tried to fade away out of sight. She knew that the woman was Constantine’s mother, and didn’t want to deal with the awkward tension that she would no doubt impose. Yet, Anastasia was hard to miss, and so she braced herself for the inevitable meeting. Perhaps it’d be better just to get it out of the way, she thought. And all the invasive questions I’m sure she’ll ask…

Before reaching Anastasia, Zoe looked over her shoulder and said, “Thank you, that will be all,” to make her guard disappear.

“Mi Lady, the Emperor…”

“...is my son,” she interrupted the Praetorian. “Perhaps I’ll inform him of your insubordination the next time I see him...Refusing to follow an order, I can’t imagine he’d be thrilled at the prospect of that,” Zoe scolded the guard, staring him down until he finally bowed his head and left her and Anastasia in the hall.

Zoe smiled the rest of the way, walking in a dignified manner. She grew a slight grin as she watched the girl appear to hesitate. “Anastasia, isn’t it?” Zoe spoke in an artful and animated voice to welcome the girl with a smile once she finally stood near her, with final glance up and down. “My you are just beautiful, aren’t you, dear?”

“...I’d certainly like to think so, your Highness,” Anastasia replied plainly. “I certainly don’t get my looks from my father...”

“You know who I am, I didn’t expect that,” Zoe gave a half smile in reply. “And you should think that because it’s true. A great beauty, indeed. In fact, I’m sure that’s one of the reasons we find ourselves here right now.”

“Well, I know who you are from the internet,” Anastasia laughed, though reservedly. “I’d like to think I am where I am today due to a combination of luck and charm. After all, good looks can only get you so far.”

“True, the Pompilia girl was only beautiful and look how far that got her. Everyone who walks these halls does so through a combination of luck and charm. Lord knows it’s not by their competence, half of these people make Theophylactus III look like the pinnacle genius,” Zoe examined Anastasia with a plain look. “It’s those with the insincere charm that concern me.”

Anastasia considered this for a moment. “I’ve heard it said that one of the most exhausting things in life is being insincere. I don’t know how people do it...I’m tired enough as is,” she said with a grin. “I don’t know the Pompilia girl, but I haven’t heard anything bad about her. Then again, I don’t know many politicians or their families, because they always seem to want something.”

“I can tell you from personal experience it is rather exhausting. Thankfully those days are far behind me,” Zoe smiled to her, neglecting to comment on being from a political family herself. “But I’m more interested in how you could be so tired. Are the weather and time differences making things difficult for you here? Or maybe something else…”

“All the war, intriguing, dangers that lurk around every turn,” the Ghantish princess clarified, “it can all be rather taxing on one’s mind. Mental fatigue, if you will.”

“Of course, we never experienced anything quite like this the last time I was in these halls,” Zoe nodded. “It’s certainly a new experience for a great many people here, my son included. But he seems to be handling it well, wouldn’t you agree?”

With a slightly aloof look, Anastasia said “from what I gather, I’d say so.”

“I’m not keeping your from anything, am I?” Zoe inched slightly closer to Anastasia. “I wouldn’t want to make you late or miss out on where ever it was you were off.”

“I’m just taking a stroll to relax and admire the architecture,” the princess began to explain. “Exercise notwithstanding of course.”

Zoe took a deep breath and looked around the hall before speaking. “As much as I hated living here, it always was a very beautiful structure. Almost breathtaking in a way,” she smiled. “My family was wealthy, but never anything to this magnitude. Maybe you, being a princess from birth, have a different look at these things, but…there is something admirable about it. The gardens especially, you should see them soon if you haven’t already. I spent so much time there with my children when they were much younger.”

“I’m sorry about Michael,” Anastasia told Zoe soberly. “I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you. Being a Princess from birth however has taught me one thing, and that’s that people in our positions carry a monumental weight. Some of us rise to the occasion, like your son Constantine. Some of us run from it, like I did for many years. Then others, the weight breaks them. Such is the peril of our strata.”

“Thank you,” Zoe’s smile retreated as she took another deep breath with her eyes fluttering. “Michael was always difficult, even as a boy. I guess it should have been obvious then. But Constantine, he was...well, he was always a good, kind boy and far more independent. And through all the horror that’s put him where he is, I’m just glad he’s alive. Crown or no,” Zoe paused once more. “He’s probably waiting for you now. That’s where you’re going isn’t it?”

“...What makes you think that?” the Ghantish princess asked coyly.

“A mother’s intuition, perhaps,” Zoe gave a quick shrug of her shoulders.

Anastasia pursed her lips. “Well, I was headed in that direction, and I suppose the chances of running into him are fairly good…”

“You had better be off then. I’m sure we’ll cross paths again soon,” Zoe smiled. “It was very nice to meet you, Anastasia.”

“Thank you, your Highness,” the Ghantish princess said with a acceptable curtsey. “And you as well. Until next time.” Having said that, she was off, continuing her way down the palace corridors. She made her way down the hall, admiring the architecture as it were, before finding her way outside of the imperial suites. She did her best to enter discreetly.

Inside the suite, laugher could be heard. “What about the time when you told her you could jump across that creek? Jesus, I don’t know why you thought you could do that.”

“I was trying to impress her,” Leo laughed in reply. “And I thought I could actually do it. It was like hardly a foot wide.”

“By jumping across that stupid creek?” Constantine snorted as he laughed from one of the couches further in the main room. “God, then when father pulled you out of the water.”

“He was angry wasn’t he?” Leo continued to laugh.

“Mine would have been,” Anastasia laughed as she entered the room. “Sorry to interrupt, I was just passing through and thought I’d stop by and say hello.”

“Ah, I didn’t even hear you walk in,” Constantine said once his laughter subsided. He extended his arm across the back of the couch, “Come on, join us. Take a seat.”

Leo continued to laugh with a smile, though offered no words of welcome for his cousin.

Anastasia, noticing this, sat next to Leo and folder her legs. “So, how’s it going? Any news on that intel or anything else exciting?”

“We were just discussing tomorrow’s Consul audience,” Constantine told her. “I hope you’re ready for an election, he’s been clamouring for one since before Christmas.”

“And the last bits of intel, of course,” Leo just looked down to his watch. “Then the rest of the foreign forces should be gone and it’s hopefully smooth sailing from there.”

“Right, then the politicians side-show begins. That’ll be a treat all it’s own,” Constantine yawned while nodding in agreement.

The Ghantish princess yawned as well. “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you said ‘I hope you’re ready for an erection,’” she laughed riotously. “How improper, but I thought it was funny. Well, the last of the foreign forces will most likely be Nathan and his goons and Uncle Albert. Most of the Ghantish have already gone home.”

Each of Constantine and Leo laughed, though Leo’s appeared more feigned than anything. “Nathan’s hardly the person we have concerns over,” Leo remarked.

“I have no concerns,” Constantine added. “The Chacanos are gone, Audric will likely leave with Selene when she’s ready, and we have our intel arrangement with the Edomites that is going as planned. They’ll be gone just as soon. If anything, we should be concerned about Audric given his...actions in Espo.”

“I expect things to go smoothly as well,” Leo said with a sigh, “but we should remain vigilant.”

“...What actions in Espo?” she asked the two of them.

Constantine immediately closed his eyes, possibly realizing the slip of his tongue. By the time he opened them, Leo had already stood and threw Constantine a look. “I should get going, I told Anna I’d call her at…” he looked at his watch, “…ten minutes ago. You two have a good night.”

“But I just got here, cousin,” Anastasia frowned, but it seemed to be to no avail.

Leo gathered his things and promptly exited the room. “Would you like anything?” Constantine stood and went to pour a glass of water for himself. As he stood near some refreshments in the room he said, “What do you remember hearing in the news about Espo and my illegitimate brother George?”

“All I know is that they’re dead,” she explained. “Not sure how. Something about Espo was bothering Catherine and Constantia.”

“You have to promise me you won’t tell another person what I’m about to tell you,” Constantine remained near the pitcher of water, but faced Anastasia now. “For the sake of those two girls, if nothing else.”

“Not even Nathan?” she asked carefully. “Or Paul?”

“Not even Nathan or Paul. No one,” he said with a strained voice.

Anastasia sighed. “Okay...what’s this dark secret then?”

“George had reached out to Audric sometime prior about terms for an alliance or at least support. Apparently Audric replied by offering Catherine’s hand in marriage to George in the hopes of solidifying that alliance. He accepted, invited Audric and his army to Espo,” Constantine explained. “Sometime after the ceremony, Audric betrayed and killed them all – George, his brother, the nobles. We assumed it was a battle at the time, we didn’t really have much intelligence that way at the time. But a few days later, a survivor arrived in Adrianople and told us the whole story. Everything checked out. He was who he claimed to be, and had been reported to have taken up with George. That’s the dark secret.”

“...Are you going to do anything about that?” Anastasia asked pointedly. “The man murdered your brothers and is bandying about with your sister. You cool with all that? No wonder you don’t want anyone knowing about that. It’s pretty fucked up shit.”

“I don’t know, I haven’t figured that out yet,” Constantine tapped his fingers against the table. He took a few steps and began to approach the furniture again. “I want to tell Selene, but even if I did and showed her irrefutable evidence she’d say it’s not true. Part of me even wants to forbid her from going, but that would cause it’s own set of problems. I don’t like it, but it may be best to just leave it be for now and remain cautious...look for the right opportunity,” he shook his head after resting his hands on the back of a chair. “I don’t know.”

“She needs to know,” Anastasia insisted. “Teresa was there, she knows. Same with Catherine and Constantia…” A thought suddenly rushed over her. “Oh my...what if she’s your sister too?”

“You’re right,” Constantine sighed and gave his neck a rub. “I’ll tell her.” The Latin Emperor found his way to Leo’s former seat next to Anastasia and continued, “Funny thing about Constantia...she very well could be.”

“I hope not though. She’s had a rough enough go of things and that’d only make matters worse,” he leaned on the nearest armrest, slowly moving his hand over his forehead. “I really hope not.”

“Well either way you should protect her,” she pointed out. “She could be at risk if her identity got out...assuming she is your sister and all.”

“I’ll keep her safe, regardless of who her father is,” Constantine nodded to her.

She nodded too. “That is good, because I do like the girl. I’d even consider her my friend.” Anastasia laid down on the couch and sighed. “By the way, what’s up Leo’s ass? He’s been acting weird lately.”

“I think he’s uncomfortable with your uncle Albert being so close. Leo’s always on edge when he’s around, not that I blame him,” Constantine turned his head to take a look at her. “What was it like on the day he left?”

“What day?” she asked, confused. “On the day Leo left Ghant? I don’t know I was only three, but from what I’ve heard it was a sad day.”

Constantine yawned once more. “I heard people had interesting nicknames for him – like Leo Lovechild.”

“...That would have been my father,” she sighed heavily. “He thinks he’s funny.”

“Well, maybe it would have worked for a different audience,” he smiled as he was took a seat next to her lying there, placing his hand on her legs in the hopes of lightening the mood.

“My father is like that with everyone,” she laughed. “Doesn’t matter who it is. He’s always gotten away with it too, and you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”

“Are you telling me that you’ve never called him out on it then?” he said with a laugh, running his hand across her legs. “As outspoken as you are. That I find hard to believe.”

Anastasia laughed. “Called him out for what?”

“Whatever it is he’s getting away with. It sounds like you don’t like it.”

“When I was younger, I tried. Never did me much good. I was bad for questioning him, and eventually I just said fuck it and gave up.”

“At least you tried,” he told her while jokingly patting her on the legs. “That’s more than most people ever do.”

“Well sometimes, people shouldn’t even waste their time.” the Ghantish Princess said candidly. “Life’s too short to waste your time. Might as well enjoy it.”

“Well there’s plenty to enjoy, I think,” Constantine said with a smirk, carefully pulling her closer before leaning over to kiss her. Anastasia kissed him back, and indeed, she enjoyed his company for a time.

[Lacus Magni]

Praetorian HQ
Royal Borough of Ardea
Castellum ab Alba

The recently appointed Deputy Praetorian Prefect Celus Fontieus looked around his office at the Praetorian headquarters located in the Royal Borough of Ardea inside of Castellum. It was different than what he was accustomed to, having only so recently been in the field serving under Prince Leo as a Legate in the Hellenic based legions. The appointment caught him at quite the surprise, for Celus was as low and common born as one could be in Latium, hailing from a small town in the rural county of Savo. And to find himself in an office only just recently held by the Dowager Empress’ own cousin was quite the meteoric rise.

In fact, his loved ones could hardly believe it was true. His girlfriend didn’t believe him until he was able to pay for a train ticket to bring her to the capital. Even his mother was without belief. When she finally accepted it, she told Celus that he needed to leave his girlfriend at once and find a more “suitable woman of proper position” now that he held the second highest command position in the prestigious Praetorian Guard. It was all quite a bit for him to take in, but he had proved his loyalty and commitment to the Emperor’s cause early on and showed his value to Prince Leo enough for the latter to recommend his name for the vacancy.

Though the new role was busy, far busier than Celus had ever expected or handled before. He was given responsibility for serving as the head of the temporary gendarmerie and had been on the phone or in communication with his own legates throughout the ten regions of Latium to sort out what resources they had, the manpower, among other things. And if that wasn’t enough, Fontieus had also been handling, more like rubber stamping, the Emperor’s personal security while his superior the Prefect of the entire guard remained in an undisclosed location safeguarding Prince Peter – Constantine’s heir presumptive – until such a time it was deemed safe to come out of hiding. Not to mention that he also handled whatever else was thrown his way.

Which as luck would have it, Prince Leo asked that Celus serve as the main go-between for the collection of intelligence on the Jedorians that the Latins had agreed to pass along to the Edomites as per their agreement on the remainder of foreign military pullouts. That when all that could be gathered was gathered, Celus was to personally take it to the Edomites embassy and hand it to no one but the Ambassador. The collection had begun the day the arrangement was proposed, at a feast between Latin, Edomite, Ghantish and Vannoisian representatives and rules – of which Celus was lucky enough to be invited. That very night, even before either side had formally agreed to the terms, Latin intelligence officers began to take all the information they had concerning the Jedorians.

Along with all of the information gathered during the course of the “succession crisis,” as Celus had heard it dubbed on more than one occasion, Latin intelligence had continued to do what needed to be done over the span of December through parts of January in the hopes of obtaining further information that the Edomites might find useful. And now, in the second week of January, the Master of Soliders, Flavius Vipsanius, had given Emperor Constantine his recommendation that they’ve obtained all they could from the Jedorians. Now, it’s my job to pass that information along, Celus thought as he began to gather his belongings for his drive to the Edomite embassy to deliver a message, by hand, to Ambassador Randronth along with relevant tapes and files of intelligence gathered. And once he was at the embassy, Celus was to only hand the message and intelligence gathered to the Ambassador so that Randronoth could hand it to his superiors.

To:Ambassador Vice-Admiral Matthias Randronoth
From: Flavius Vipsanius, Master of Soliders and Knight Premier
Cc: Offices of Their Majesties, The King and Queen of New Edom
Subject: A Gift from His Majesty
Encryption: Most Secret, Eyes Only – Hand delivered to Ambassador

---

Your Excellency,

As per the agreement between our two governments, you will find enclosed the information gathered by Latin intelligence over the course of the brief succession crisis as well as everything from within the last month. Similar messages and communiques have been sent to The King and Queen of New Edom as well. His Imperial Majesty wishes to thank you for your cooperation in this endeavor and for your support over the last month in assisting local police and Praetorian forces to a proper and peaceful turnover of former checkpoints throughout the capital. He also sends his best wishes to the New Edomite fighting men and women as they make their journey home for what he hopes is a long and well earned vacation.

And for their continued good faith, His Imperial Majesty would also like to confer the chivalric honor of Dame of the Most Noble Order of St. Maria onto Her Majesty Queen Mara, and Knight of the Most Noble Order of St. Maria onto His Majesty King Elijah IV.

Sincerely,
Flavius Vipsanius
Minister of Defense
Master of Soliders & Knight Premier of Latium

[New Edom]

To: Flavius Vipsanius, Master of Soliders and Knight Premier
From: Vice-Admiral Matthias Randronoth, Ambassador for the Allied States of New Edom
Subject: Information
Encryption: Most Secret, Eyes Only

---

Your Excellency,

Thank you very much for the letter, and for your office's cooperation with ours in obtaining necessary intelligence towards general security in the straits. We assure you that this intelligence's use will be towards the general benfit of this part of the region for the purposes of safe travel, friendly commerce and anticipation of danger to the general security of the region.

I would like to propose that as our forces leave your country that a parade should be held where they can be publicly honoured for their role in ending the rebellion. This would involve a march down an agreed upon and suitable street in Ravenna which appropriate public media present.

May your nation continue to prosper and be guided by your wise counsel for its general safety and peace.

I have the honour to be,
Vice-Admiral Matthias Randronoth
Ambassador

Ambassador Randronoth had his staff working on research and plans to improve trade and naval/air security agreements between the two nations as well. The previous indolence, he had been told from Fineberg, was no longer acceptable, especially in light of new developments in diplomacy and cooperation between the Belisarian states. No more surprises, Geta had warned him. Randronoth was dubious. There were always surprises. Who could have anticipated a coup?

One thing that did concern him was this apparent courtship involving Princess Antastasia. She was a rather opaque person, difficult to get a read on, though Colonel Brero said she was just another spoiled Ghantish princess with a remarkable tolerance for hard liquor. Randronoth had pointed out to him that Ghantish women were the point persons for Ghantish Imperial foreign policy. However he was hardly a young ambitious man, Randronoth, but rather an older, cautious one, and he was content to begin to move his pieces slowly now that peace had been reestablished. His radar warned him that with the political battles raging at home that this was the wisest thing...