Germania, much to Constantine’s happiness, left his sons in camp with Rome’s. Rome teased him, singing wedding marches. Constantine was happy that, in Rome’s final years, he had found love again.

Constantine had taken to learning German and teaching the two brothers Latin. He had also gotten better with the die, so now Gilbert ended up spilling much of his secrets. Like, how the bird that was always on his head was called Gilbird and how he had found it underneath a tree one day, and it hadn’t aged a day.

Constantine was happy for the boy and his familiar. When the slave entered and left Constantine his letters, he rushed to check if he had one from Livia. It has been three years since he last saw her, and he was fourteen. Old enough to marry.

The thought of how beautiful she might have gotten made Constantine blush. He had made her portrait one day and had shown it to Gilbert. He had joked she was good enough for a flock of sheep to be exchanged for her hand. Constantine had just looked confused at that.

One of the letters was indeed from Livia, and he opened the scroll and began to read.

Tine,

I am to be married in ten years to Tiberius Claudius Nero.

Constantine gripped the scroll tighter, and he looked at the surrounding tent. How could this have happened? He fell down where he stood and kept reading.

I hope to see you at the wedding. I do hope I make my husband happy and that you are happy for me. Furthermore, I will endeavor to name one of my children after you. Not the first one, for that honor will go to his father, but perhaps the second? I am certain that I will grant my husband many healthy sons. I hope your future wife does the same.

Love,

Livia Drusilla of the Cloudii.

Constantine, in a daze, went out of his tent and into the camp. He walked to Gilbert’s tent until he found the boy with his brother. Practicing with wooden swords. Constantine picked up a wooden gladius that was lying to the side and approached the two brothers.

“Gilbert, can we spar?” Constantine’s voice was low as he said so. Gilbert said something to Ludwig in German, and he sent the boy away. Constantine charged with the gladius as soon as the toddler was at a safe distance.

He stabbed at Gilbert, who parried, and then stepped unreachable of the sword.

“What has gotten in you, Tine?” Asked Gilbert as he aimed his sword to Constantine’s left arm. The boy sidestepped and brought the gladius at Gilbert’s stomach. Gilbert threw himself to the side, and Constantine’s gladius hit the air.

“Livia Drusilla is getting married,” Gilbert nodded, and they began to circle each other. No more words needed. They sparred for the reminder of the afternoon and finally, just before dinner, Gilbert laid Constantine flat on his back. The albino offered a hand to get Constantine up, and the boy took it. Allowing the gesture.

“Is she getting married these days?” Asked Gilbert, and Constantine shook his head.

“In ten years,” spat the Roman.

“Well, then, what is the problem? Ten years are a lot of time. You can sweep her off her feet. And you will be a better match than anyone else. You being the son of Rome and a nation in your own right,” Constantine looked hopeful at that and Gilbert elaborated.

“Your mother is the daughter of a nation, too. So, you are noble on both sides. Livia is a human. For her to be married to a nation, for as long as she is alive, is quite the boon. My dad’s former wife preened when people asked her about her husband,” true, the woman had been lukewarm towards Gilbert and Ludwig, at best. But she put on pretenses, so she wouldn’t alienate anyone.

“I don’t want her to marry my status. I want her to marry me,” protested Constantine. Gilbert clapped him on the back.

“People will always vie for your status, Tine. That is the way of things. If it is any consolation, though, I will never see you as anything but an equal,” Constantine smiled at that brightly.

“And a brother?” Asked Constantine, hopefully. Gilbert sent him a beaming smile, and they entered Constantine’s tent, where there was already food by the couches. Ludwig was eyeing it, but not partaking.

“Why aren’t you eating, Lu? Come on, you must be hungry,” said Constantine in German, and the boy smiled shyly at him.

“I was waiting for you both. There is a new letter for us, big brother Gilbert,” Gilbert went to the desk and found a fresh parchment. He opened it and runes, and a bit of Latin at the bottom, stared back at him.

“It is from father!” Exclaimed Gilbert, and Ludwig and Constantine huddled closer to Gilbert to hear what the letter was about. Gilbert began to read with barely vailed excitement.

Gilbert and Ludwig,

I have found you brides. Human noble princesses. You are to go and court them. I understand that, if Ludwig doesn’t grow up fast enough, his marriage will be called off. But you, Ludwig, have been growing like a weed, and I am certain you will look fifteen in ten years.

How are your lessons progressing? Are you happy? Do you eat enough? Your mother, Hilda, sends her love. Do me proud, son. You know how to treat a princess and ladies in general. I better not hear anything bad from you.

Hey kiddo! I attempted to tell your pops to not force you into a marriage. You are what? Three hundred years old? But he wouldn’t have it. So, advice. Ladies like love letters and flowers in their hair. And a couple of other things, but you will find about them on your own.

Stay safe,

Germania and Rome.

“What other things?” Asked Ludwig, confused. The two older boys exchanged a look and snickered. It was time for the talk.