The ceremony was private. Just Constantine, Kyla, Rome, the four children and a priest. Helena was sick, so she couldn’t travel. They had a private feast, where Rome made faces at his new grandchildren and his son, and Kyla kept feeding Constantine small bites from their shared plate.

The night was pleasant too, and, when Constantine awoke the next morning, he was still in Kyla’s arms.

“Good morning, Tine,” said Kyla as Constantine nuzzled their noses together.

“Good morning, husband. What did you dream of?”

“Of you and the children playing together in a meadow,” said Kyla without missing a beat. Constantine smiled at that.

“I dreamed of a splendid city. We were all in a palace and people were throwing petals at us. You were happy,” said Constantine. He now knew that he needed to recreate all the splendor he had seen in his dream in Byzantium.

“That sounds nice. Come on, we need to wash up and wash the children. Then, its breakfast. How would you like to go out to the Mese?” Asked Kyla. Then Constantine got a mischievous look in his eyes.

“Can we go to the common market forums? And then to the public baths?” His day from all those years ago had been ingrained in Constantine. He wanted to experience it again. Now that all of his money were his again, he felt it prudent to do so.

“Ok, we can go there. Tine, you have to release your slaves,” Constantine nodded. Beshter had given him slaves from his manse as a present, but he should have known that Kyla wouldn’t sit still and let slaves be in the house.

“I’ll have diplomas made,” said Constantine. He stood up, stretched, and placed a tunic over his naked body. Kyla seemed to be looking at him hungrily. “You said it yourself, we have work to do, and then we can play around. Come now, Kyla, we have to go.”

They washed the children quickly and handed them to wet-nurses to take care of. Then, they had breakfast consisting of leftovers from the wedding feast, and then they were off.

The two of them rode in the streets and, when they neared the markets, they got off their horses and began to lead them around. Constantine looked for that fermented horse milk stand from his last outing, but couldn’t find it. He did buy some wine and shared it with Kyla.

Then, they were at the public baths and left their wine at the entrance. Unlike last time, Constantine wasn’t even tipsy. He went and undressed in the changing rooms and placed a towel around his waist.

Going out of the changing room, his eyes looked around for Kyla, and he found him lounging in the pool and talking with Pompeius. Constantine approached silently and slipped inside the warm water.

“Constantine, is that you? What a pleasant surprise!” Constantine clasped Pompeius’ arm, and they shook each other’s hands.

“How is Julia?” Asked Constantine and Pompeius looked saddened.

“She passed away in childbirth. I have a new wife now,” Constantine nodded and looked around for anything that could take away Pompeius mind off the thought of his dead wife. Finding nothing, he turned to Bulgaria.

“Pompeius was telling me how Julius Caesar wanted to proclaim himself Emperor,” Constantine already knew of that. After all, Julius Caesar was to become his first emperor.

“I am certain that it is but a rumor,” said Constantine, keeping up the ruse. Kyla raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t comment. “Are you going to become a council again?”

“That is the job for the young. I have the honor of having Magnus added to my name. I think my job is done. Now, I only wish for sons. You are lucky, Constantine, to have one without lifting a finger,” Constantine smiled at that. He was. He had an heir in Ivan and, if Kyla could be talked out of giving him a frozen wasteland, then Constantine would name the baby the Third Rome.

“I married well,” said Constantine, leaning into Kyla.

“But you didn’t invite anyone. Not even your mother attended,” chastised Pompeius and Constantine looked down. Helena was going to die the same year as Rome. Knowing full well her once lover had moved on to greener pastures in his twilight years.

“That was my idea. I just wanted to relax on my wedding with my father, children and brother,” said Constantine and Kyla nodded.

“It was a good reception. Constantine played the high harp,” added Kyla with a dreamy look.

 Constantine remembered how lovingly Kyla had looked on as Constantine performed. Even the children had quieted down to listen. And, the crowning event of the evening was the pride in Rome’s eyes. That was something Byzantine would cherish for the rest of his days.

“Julius Caesar is a threat to the Republic,” said Pompeius when it was time for them to go for their massages. “And you will do well to distance yourselves from him.”

What Constantine did the following days was to support the man. And, when he began moving his legions to Rome and was denied access, Constantine gave the green light for a march through the streets.

Julius Caesar was proclaimed consul by the end of the week and his son-in-law had been pardoned for speaking against him. Everything was going well, until Rome collapsed one day and took ill.

The only ones that Rome accepted in the room were his family members, Germania included. But, the dates weren’t adding up. Constantine couldn’t understand why his father was dying sooner.

Had he caused it with the hostile takeover of Rome? Or, had his father gotten weak by himself? As Constantine held Romulus’s hand as the man was breathing heavily, guilt was eating away at Constantine.

“You are the future,” rasped Rome, and he reached out for a goblet with water. Constantine straightened him up in the bed and handed it to him. “Never forget that.”