“Enjoy the rest of the festivities,” said Octavia, and she let go of Constantine and left him behind with the two nations.

“So, are you a nation? What is your name?” Constantine looked down to the ground. He didn’t have a nation name. Not yet.

“I need to train in the legion before I am granted my land. I will be stationed in Gaul, if the war draws on,” Sadik nodded, and he lightly punched his brother’s shoulder.

“Hey, do you want to play the naming game, Ak?” Constantine looked between the two, confused.

“Sure, New Rome would be what Old Rome would like to name him,” now, Constantine understood. They were going to be coming up with his new name. He looked around in panic for anything to take their mind off it. Once a nation name was recognized by two nations, it stuck. He didn’t want a barbarian name!

“Hey, kiddo, where will your lands going to be?” Ak turned towards Constantine, who shook his head.

“My father should be the one to name me,” it was only right, seeing as he was going to be giving him the land. Two matching frowns were his answer.

“And we aren’t good enough?” Sadik all but growled.

“I didn’t say that,” Constantine made a step back. He felt it would be better not to be remembered as the one who insulted them. That was just begging for an invasion while he was still building up his lands.

“But you meant it?” Ak, for once, didn’t seem as benevolent as he used to be moments before.

“Ok, fine, let us play the naming game,” Constantine hung his head low and let these strangers give him the most important attribute of a nation. The name.

“So, where are your lands?” Repeated Ak.

“Balkan peninsula and Byzantium,” his father had told him something about negotiations with a clan named Cappadocian for Anatolia, but that wasn’t as certain.

“Balkanica?” Constantine winced at the crass name.

“Judging by his expression, that is also a no, how about Byzanz?” Offered Sadik with a thoughtful look.

“His name is Constantine, right? So, how about, Byzantine? Do you like it, kiddo?” Constantine felt as if something clicked in his brain. Something, he hadn’t even know it was there until that moment.

“That sounds perfect,” Constantine replied with a smile. Both brothers returned it and took up their goblets again.

“To Byzantine,” took up Sadik as he raised his goblet.

“Future ally and friend,” ended up Ak, and they did a toast. Constantine stared wide-eyed at the two. He knew Scythia did no fight with Rome, but, Persia sometimes did. Yet, both brothers have accepted him.

The naming of Constantine as Byzantine was largely ignored by most of the guests, but, he knew, they would know his name in time. The two adults returned to drinking and Constantine mustered up the courage to ask what has been bugging him for a while.

“Excuse me, but where are your brothers?” He had meant to ask only about Kyla Bolgar, but ended up correcting himself at the last minute.

“We are among the eldest, with me as the firstborn of Xiongnu,” proudly said Sadik. “So, father send us here to negotiate a deal for silk in exchange for wine and grain. But, your father is not here and the consul won’t see us. Caesar is not here either.”

“Do you ask for someone in particular? None of my brothers or sisters have spoken about you,” Constantine felt a pang of something at not being so much as mentioned by Kyla. Had their meeting been just a fluke?

“Yes, Kyla Bolgar. My current mentors were his friends, before…” Well, Constantine was not certain about what had happened. Just that they had fallen apart.

“Mentors? Do you think they are like that thing that has Kyla prancing around Siberia, eh, Sadik?” There was distaste in Ak’s voice when he said the word thing. Was Kyla now traveling with another vampire?

“What are their names?” Any playfulness had left Sadik’s voice and face, his good cheer forgotten.

“Beshter and Antonius,” Constantine didn’t know why he was nervous, but when both brothers stood up and put their goblets down, he understood that he had the right of it.

“No friend of theirs could be our friend. They and their demented dream can go take a hike in a dung pit,” spat Ak, and both he and his brother left the table. Pompeius finally took note of what were his most important wedding guests and rushed to them, speaking quickly to the two of them.

Constantine stood rooted in his spot like slapped. The friendly men hadn’t cared that he had been polite to them, they have damned him by association. He felt a hand wrap around his elbow and turned to see Scribonia tugging him back to the children’s corner.

“If there is a war with people coming from the East, I’m blaming you, Constantine,” she said and, when Constantine wasn’t following her, tugged his ear.

“Ouch!” Constantine exclaimed. Scribonia liked to dig her nails into the ear when she tugged. He had forgotten how painful it was.

“Come on, Octavian wants to know what type of training you have done. He is so nice and dreamy,” Constantine’s legs moved after Scribonia and he sent the two brothers one, final, look.

They were seated on another table, their cheer gone. They still drank, but more to drown unpleasant thoughts, rather than to enjoy a game between brothers. Pompeius was with them with Julia, and they were having a back and forth. Probably about the deal.

“Why didn’t the barbarians like you?” Constantine was surprised to hear Livia Drusilla speaking. She had been silent so far.

“I have friends who did wrong against their brother,” Livia nodded and linked her arm around his free elbow.

“Then you must make amends. To the wronged brother, I mean. With the war in Gaul, we can’t afford one with Scythia too. Their entire population is made up of warriors, even the women,” Constantine hadn’t known that. But he reasoned with himself that the least he could do was send Kyla Bolgar a letter to tell him he hadn’t meant to replace him.