“While Germania is a part of your family now, he may yet tell his barbarians to attack,” Octavian was looking straight at Constantine as he said that. Constantine, on the other hand, was looking at a map.

Most of the territory of Rome would remain his. But he couldn’t afford to hold on to this much land. He’d stretch too, just like his father, and then he would die.

“Are you listening to me, Tine?” Constantine snorted and turned to stare at Octavian.

“I know all that already. Kyla will be moving into Dacia and the Balkans. He was promised a dowry when he married me, even if he didn’t ask for one,” Octavian opened his mouth to protest, but Constantine cut him off. “I’d rather be protected by someone who cares for me than give the land to a federate.”

“Be that as it may, Constantine, I advise against it,” spoke Mark Antony from his left. “Once he settles, he will begin assimilating the Romans in the area. We all know of his…track record.”

“He will move, that is final,” Kyla looked from his sit near the edge of the table. He hadn’t wanted to come. Told Constantine that this should be done in private with his human supporters. But Constantine hadn’t listened.

“Tine,” Kyla called, but Constantine send him a glare.

“You will give your land to our children,” Constantine liked referring to them as such. It made him warm inside. “With most of it going to Ivan. He has a big bone structure. He can take all that land easily. And you will return the lands near the river Volga to Ak.”

“You can’t give land to barbarians!” Yelled Antonius. Beshter placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him, but the Ventrue vampire brushed it off.

“I can and I will. Furthermore, I will give these lands,” Constantine pointed at the heartland where the city of Rome was. “To the Italy twins.”

The Italy twins were Rome’s first grandsons. They were the children of a mortal son of Rome. Constantine didn’t remember his brother. But Rome had taken Feliciano with him during his twilight years. Surely, he wanted to leave his heartland to the two, but hadn’t because they were toddlers.

“I will take Anatolia and Byzantium. The entire empire will be ruled by me until all of my brothers and the Italy twins become of age,” which meant that he would need to take the twins to raise them. For now, he had painted a target on their little backs.

“So,” Octavian began snidely. “You didn’t need our advice anyway, did you, Tine?”

“Constantine, not Tine. Tine is a ten-year-old who you met at a wedding feast. Constantine is your empire. And do refer to me as Byzantine from now on too, emperor Augustus,” Octavian blinked at that.

“Emperor?” His friend sounded confused. Mark Antony frowned.

“Surely, there can be someone more worthy of the title,” suggested Mark Antony, clearing offering himself.

“Julius Caesar was my father’s choice, but he died,” Octavian looked murderous at that. “Now, his heir will make me a dynasty. One that I will splinter in two and take to Byzantine when the time is right. Augustus, I expect at least one of your sons to be named after me. I need to rename Byzantium.”

“The Cappadocian clan won’t suffer you taking the Anatolia,” said Antonius, and Constantine turned to him.

“I am certain that you can work your magic on them, teacher Antonius. And, if you cannot, I have forty-five legions. I can uproot them from there. Now that I'm aware that they might be a treat,” Beshter and Antonius shared a look. Then Beshter spoke.

“Leave them to us. You just focus on your family,” and with that, Beshter stood up. “And on the dream.”

Kyla sighed and Constantine send him a look. Now was not the time for his supporters to splinter even more.

“Do you have something to say, Kyla Bolgar?” Asked Beshter, nose high in the air. Every bit the proud vampire.

“Your dream is doomed to fail. It requires for Byzantine to isolate itself. Constantine will suffer from inbreeding within the century,” and Constantine had considered the possibility. He really had. But the dream required an elitist approach.

“You were happy when you considered making the dream in Siberia. You spoke at length about heated gardens with roofs and of a network of roads to connect megalopolises,” Kyla got a faraway look at that.

“Yes, I was blinded by you and your idealism. I know that now. But I changed,” Beshter looked disappointed at the response and moved pass Kyla without another word. Antonius sent the nomadic nation a glare before he, too, exited.

“Why should have a mountain something against you moving to Anatolia?” Asked Mark Antony, confused.

“It is a clan of vampires. That is what Antonius and Beshter are,” Mark Antony looked to the door and raised an eyebrow.

“You consort with demons?” At that, Constantine chuckled darkly.

“They are loyal supporters. Have been for years. They want a heaven on earth. Something to be considered their legacy. I find wanting to give it to them. And their protection is…”

“Not worth it,” finished Kyla with a deepened frown.

“Kyla, you are a ghoul. You keep the company of the Dracon. Why do you judge me?” Constantine snapped and then immediately regraded it. “I am sorry.”

“No, it is the truth,” admitted Kyla, head bowed. “I am a ghoul. Perhaps I should isolate myself and get clean. Will you take care of the children if I die?”

Constantine was as if slapped at that. Kyla thought that he was going to die? But, Constantine hadn’t died. And he was clean of Beshter’s blood now.

“They are our children. Ivan is as much your heir as he is mine,” assured him, Constantine and Kyla smiled at him.

“You are everything I have ever dreamed of,” said Kyla, and he stood up, exiting the door.

“Well, that was cryptic. Care to explain, Byzantine?” Asked Octavian. And so, Constantine did.