Marcellus sat in a villa within the city of Lugdunum with his nephew by his side. Together they had butchered the deer which the young boy had slain during their hunting trip. Currently, the meat was roasting over a fire, while Marcellus prepared other portions into jerky, and sausages.

Theodosius had a stern expression on his youthful face, while watching the meat cook. At first, he was rather soft about his first kill. However, now seeing its flesh being cooked over the fire, he felt nothing but pride.

Pride that he had taken up arms and provided food for his household. Make no mistake ,the boy had done this. What remained of the beast would be smoked, salted, and preserved so that it could make the trip back to Rome, where his sisters would be able to taste the fruits of his labor.

When Marcellus saw the haughty smirk on the young boy’s face, he could not help but question what had made him so prideful.

“What are you smiling about?”

Theodosius looked up at his uncle with an excited glint in his eyes. He was quick to give voice to the thoughts which fueled his emotions.

“I’m just happy that I am able to provide for my sisters in a way that is meaningful.”

This remark caused Marcellus to chuckle, before rustling the boy’s brown hair in a playful manner.

“One day, your sisters will look to you for guidance. However, for now, you can take joy in the fact that your uncle is proud of you. It is not easy to claim the life of another living being. In fact, many kids your age would have faltered at the idea of slaying a buck. Yet you let loose that arrow as if it were second nature.

Once I have preserved the beast’s flesh, we will bring what remains back home so that your aunt and sisters can enjoy it. Here, give this a taste!”

After saying this, Marcellus handed a cooked venison sausage over the boy, who was quick to bite into the juicy meat. With an excited smile on his face, the boy voiced his thoughts about the meaty treat.

“Mmm, that’s good!”

A slight smile appeared on Marcellus’ face as he continued to prepare and cure the sausages and jerky so that they were preserved for the road trip. Not long after, the remainder of the meal was fully cooked, where Marcellus and Theodosius enjoyed a hearty serving of venison. After ensuring that the food was sealed away, Marcellus tucked the boy in bed before finding his way to his room, where he lied down on his own bed and fell asleep.

Before he knew it, morning arrived, and after packing away the butchered deer’s cooked contents, Marcellus, Theodosius, and the armed escort rode off to Rome, which they would arrive in after a few weeks of travel.

Upon returning to the Palace, Marcellus was greeted by his wife and concubine, while Theodosius was greeted by his sisters. Sigefrida had every desire to smack her man across the face for travelling all the way to Gaul without any hint of warning, all for a hunting trip.

However, when she realized that her man was safe, and so was his nephew, her wrath quelled itself. Despite this, there was still a bitter look on the woman’s ice-blue eyes as she looked away and muttered under her breath.

“During your absence, there has been news about Persia. I suggest you follow me to your office so I can recount what has happened to you.”

Marcellus hugged the woman and kissed her on the cheek, seemingly ignoring her words. He then did this to Placidia, before finally responding to Sigefrida’s request.

“First, we will eat. I did my best to salt and cure this meat, but I’m afraid if we wait any longer, it will be too spoiled to properly eat. So, prepare the kitchen, as we are about to feast on venison!”

Sigefrida merely rolled her eyes before doing as instructed. For a brief lunch period, Marcellus and his family dined upon the flesh of the buck. Where Theodosius told his hunting tale to his sisters with much enthusiasm.

Marcellus had his fill of wine and meat before absconding off to his office, where Sigefrida glared at him intensely in silence. Finally, after several moments, Marcellus spoke up, taking this chance to avoid an apology.

“So…. You said something happened in Persia. What is it?”

Sigefrida was not quite finished being angry with Marcellus, but this was a matter of urgency, and thus she put aside her rage for a brief moment before explaining to the man what had happened in his absence.

“Khosrow is dead…”

Marcellus’ olive green eyes narrowed when he heard this. He was not expecting one of the many claimants for the Sassanid throne to die so soon. He was quick to voice his discontent as he questioned just what had occurred.

“How did this fucking happen? Did we not have Mitra maintaining the balance between the various factions?”

Sigefrida leaned against a nearby counter and sighed heavily before revealing how things had come to this point.

“It was Bahram. Khosrow sought to antagonize his cousin by announcing his engagement to Mitra. As you know, Bahram has an unhealthy obsession with his little sister, and responded by having Khosrow murdered in his sleep.

As a result, one less faction is vying for the Sassanid throne, and the others are now on full alert. The cold war that existed between those who wished to be crowned King of Kings has now gone hot, as they are all preparing their forces for an outright civil war.

If Bahram succeeds his father, he will spend the next decade recovering his forces to march on Rome. Especially when he finds out that his sister has been working for you all this time. We can’t allow the man to seize the throne, however, we also can’t allow his brother Shapur to take his father’s place, either. After all, the man will stop at nothing to avenge Yazdegerd.”

This statement left many questions in Marcellus’ mind, ultimately he was forced to directly ask his concubine for a more clear answer.

“So you’re saying?”

Without hesitation, Sigefrida responded to this question with a confident smirk on her pretty face.

“We will secretly back Narseh’s claim to the throne. He is the weakest of the surviving candidates, and will not pose a threat to Rome in any means should he become King of Kings.

Upon hearing this, Marcellus’ worries were dispelled, and he nodded his head before responding to Sigefrida’s claims.

“Good, then get on it. The last thing I need is another war with the Persians. If we do end up at arms, then it will be my decree, not theirs!”

With this said, the Roman Emperor was now engaged in a conspiracy to seat a puppet on the throne of his rival Empire.