Antonius had stopped Beshter from giving him more money, and now Constantine could kiss his freedom for the rest of the year. No more fun was to be had, that much he knew.

So, he did what he had been doing every morning and ran around the yard. He had taken a bath in the morning and would have another after his training was complete. Then, breakfast.

When Antonius had found out that Constantine had drank alcohol, he had been furious. So, he had forbidden the slaves from giving Constantine anything for the hangover.

Which wasn’t fair, Constantine thought. He was entitled to get drunk with his friends, if he wanted to. Now, he was under house arrest and on a new nutrition plan. Beef, mostly. Constantine felt like he would be forced to bite a cow, one of those days.

“Dominos, Dominos Antonius wishes to speak with you,” Constantine wondered why that was. Usually, Antonius and Beshter slept during that time of the day. Still, Antonius went back to the manse and went to Antonius’s private study.

He knocked and when he heard the “enter” he went in.

“You are to go to Gaul and study under Julius Caesar. You leave in a week,” that came instead of a greeting, and Constantine was left stuck in the doorway.

“Excuse me?” Antonius frowned at him.

“I will not repeat myself. Your father has been noted about your drunken escapades…”

“I didn’t do anything. I just went to the public baths,” defended himself to Constantine. Antonius silenced him with a glare.

“You will not interrupt. Your father needs someone to look after your infant brother while he conquers his land. Someone he can trust. It took Beshter and I many letters to convince him that you are still worthy of having land of your own,” which wasn’t fair. Romulus drank and feasted and whored constantly. So, why was he getting on Constantine’s case?

“Because he wants you to have none of his vices. Unfair, I know, but parents are often such,” came from Beshter from the doorway. Constantine knew he couldn’t argue with both of his guardians.

“Is Octavian coming too? Is Marcus?” Both looked at him incredulously.

“Why should they? They are minors,” Constantine wanted to remind them that he, too, was only eleven. But felt it would be a loss of time.

“Will you come with me?” For all that they were distant, they had been a constant for him in these past months.

“No, we have work here. To pave your way into becoming a nation worthy of the dream. But, know something. We will know if you develop vices again and there will be repercussions,” warned him Antonius.

“Know that, despite your misstep, we are proud of you, Tine. Even if Antonius will never say it,” Constantine smiled at Beshter. Ever the carrot to Antonius’s stick. It was nice to hear something like this, regardless if it was just empty words.

“I will do better,” words like sorry would only aggravate the two vampires, so, Constantine held himself from saying them.

“Now, you will be sent with retainers, and we would expect for you to keep to your training and eating arrangements,” said Antonius. He handed Constantine a piece of paper.

“Yes, sir,” spoke Constantine mechanically. He was basically told to behave for the rest of the conversation and to attempt to wrap his brother around his finger. Which was underhanded, but it aligned with Antonius’s character perfectly.

Beshter too gave him a gift to go with the instructions of what he should eat that Antonius had given him, and it was a dagger with an eagle’s head. There was a lion that was preparing to roar on the scabbard. It was expertly painted.

“I made the scabbard myself, to remind you that you are precious to Antonius and me. The child we can never have,” Constantine beamed at Beshter. A part of him hoped that this was not an attempt to manipulate him. But he knew better.

“That was all, Tine. Go and see to your friends before you leave,” came from Antonius. At having heard his shortened name from his stern guardian, Constantine turned to stare in bewilderment. Then, he remembered himself, nodded, and ran out of the room.

“You are spoiling the boy,” spoke Antonius when Constantine was out of the room entirely. Beshter went and sat on the chair opposite him.

“And you are too harsh. The dream needs to be nurtured with love, lover,” Beshter winked and raised his sandal covered foot to rub it over Antonius’s leg.

“When the kid leaves, we are going to have a long discussion about your parenting strategies,” retorted Antonius as he took Beshter’s foot and gently set it down.

“What I have in mind has no talking involved. Rather, the answers to all your dreams, my love,” Antonius quirked an eyebrow.

“My dreams are your dreams, I thought you knew that?” Beshter felt touched at that, and he leaned forward.

“Tine has his first federate,” Antonius snorted.

“He has a mentor, not a federate. One whose brothers are hostile,” Beshter smiled as if he knew a secret. “Speak, my heart.”

“When Tine grows up to be a handsome young man,” Antonius rolled his eyes.

“If. Some Romans are not handsome. What with their noses. Like a hook,” Beshter giggled, and Antonius’s eyes softened.

“Regardless, when he grows up, we will need to marry him. Who do we choose? Scribonia Ledo or Livia Drusilla. Both are from good families,” Antonius reached out and took up Beshter’s hand in his and brought it to his lips.

“We have to pick him a nation that lives close by. A military one that can protect his borders so that he can have more time for civil pursuits,” Beshter smiled wider.

“Well, he already gave him a love letter…”

“No, he is a failure!” Snapped Antonius.

“You are only angry at him because I keep moaning his name from time to time. For which I am sorry,” Antonius stood up, went around the desk and scooped up Beshter in his arms.

“Let us fix that, my heart,” Beshter chuckled low in his throat, which made Antonius harden. He had been preferred over a nation, he had won. And now he was going to enjoy his conquest.