Chapter 5

“ ... your crops are purchased, and make sure the larger farms can’t mandate which growers a market is required to buy from. Will that suffice?” Lucilla said, trying to maintain her focus in spite of the last five hours spent listening to dozens of petitioners.

“Yes, Empress. Your wisdom is an example to all of us,” the farmer said, starting to genuflect.

“There’s no need for that. We’re all citizens here. Just ensure you treat your employees well and sell at a fair price, and you will have honored me enough.”

“Thank you again, Empress,” the man said, still bowing slightly before hustling out of the room.

She’d never understand how her father did this, hour after hour, without losing his sanity. She agreed with his policy of having set times to personally hear the complaints of average citizens, both so her people knew she was listening and to keep an ear to what was happening in her Empire, aside from what her spies and advisors told her. It’s why she kept the practice her father had started in the first place. She just hadn’t been prepared for the toll it would take on her. True, she’d sat in for him when he’d fallen ill, but the volume of petitioners had been less when people heard they weren’t seeing their ruler directly. Now that she was Empress, the volume had increased dramatically.

“Who’s next?” she asked Gaius.

“The Flamen Dialis, Lucius Vesnius Sacerdos,” the young man replied.

Lucilla sighed and squeezed her eyes shut. While she understood the need to meet with the average citizen and didn’t mind it except for how long audience days could drag on, this was one audience she wished she could have denied. Pompous, overbearing, and paternalistic in the worst ways, the Flamen Dialis was almost certainly here to complain, as he had numerous times before.

He was, however, the highest religious figure in Devnum, and the Roman state as a whole, and not someone she could just ignore.

“Send him in,” she said, leaning back and putting on her political battle face.

The doors opened and Vesnius marched in, posture rigid, nose so far in the air she thought he might topple over backward. The purple of his traditional toga, a symbol of his office, swished around him as he marched up to the small dais her throne sat upon, a mound of golden bracelets and jewelry jingling softly as he moved.

“Pontifex Maximus, to what do I owe the pleasure?” she asked, greeting him.

His expression remained somber, as pompous as ever, “I have come to speak on behalf of the gods and all the people of Rome. There are concerns which can no longer remain unvoiced.”

“What are the gods concerned about today?”

Vesnius frowned. If she’d been less tired, she would have worded that differently and not had it come off so flippantly.

“The gods are concerned with everything, Empress, and they have begun to show their displeasure as of late. Two blights have broken out among the largest farms, and a calf was born with no eyes this week, warnings from Jupiter of what is to come if we continue on the path we’re currently on.”

“Considering Jupiter sent us his sword to lead our people to freedom, what path, exactly, is he concerned about?”

“The Empire is changing, and at an unprecedented pace. Your father altered much in his time, allowing barbarians into our lands as equals,” he said, a hint of distaste coloring the last word. “But he at least upheld our traditions, the values that have made Rome great. There are those who now fear too much is being lost, absorbed into this new ... amalgamation you and your consort seem so intent on forging.”

“We are fighting for survival, and our strength has come in joining with our Caledonian and Ulaid allies. My father understood this. We honor the values of our ancestors by using them to build a greater society, and by recognizing that the traditions and values of our new allies aren’t that different from our own. We are stronger, together, than we ever were facing the Carthaginians by ourselves.”

“With respect, change brings uncertainty, and uncertainty brings fear. The people look to the gods for spiritual guidance in times of turmoil,” Vesnius said, sighing heavily. “New temples to foreign gods have begun to spring up in our cities. They worship these invading gods as if they are equals of Jupiter and Mars. It’s not just their gods. Their traditions clash with ours, their people refuse to honor the values we hold most dear, even in our cities. This Britannic Empire you seek to build ... it risks becoming unrecognizable. Is our survival worth abandoning who we are?”

“I disagree with your very premise. Allowing our allies or others to follow their own traditions doesn’t make ours any less valid. If you speak to someone who worships different gods than you, does that make your beliefs any less true or your worship somehow less valuable to the gods? My father welcomed progress, including advancements in health and infrastructure. The gods bless innovation, not just tradition. Have faith in our people’s character.”

“Your father may have started us down this path, Empress, but the responsibility now lies with you. These foreign gods and traditions are an affront. If you insist on honoring them as our own, then I must consider refusing to conduct any state religious ceremonies.”

Lucilla frowned and said, “You would hold our religious traditions hostage? The gods demand our worship and will know if you’re the one keeping them from their rightful homage.”

Vesnius drew himself up, gold bracelets jingling, and said, “I am bound to serve the will of the gods, not the whims of any mortal ruler. My duty is to uphold their laws and ensure proper respect is paid. I cannot in good conscience support ceremonies meant to honor those who do not share our reverence for Jupiter and Mars.”

Lucilla leaned back in her throne, meeting Vesnius’s defiant gaze with one of her own.

“You would be making a grave mistake. Our cultural identity stems from our values, not just from tradition alone. We must adapt to survive and prosper,” she said, trying one last time.

“Our traditions are our values. They have stood for centuries and define who we are as Romans,” he said, putting particular emphasis on the final word. “I am bound to serve the gods, not any mortal ruler. My duty is to uphold their laws and ensure proper respect.”

“And as ruler of Britannia and consort of the gods’ own avatar, my duty is to my people,” Lucilla said, rising and descending the dais to stand before him. “If you refuse to perform your sacred office, I will have no choice but to remove you and install someone who understands their place.”

Vesnius blanched.

“Y-you would not dare!”

“I will do whatever is necessary to protect my people,” Lucilla lifted her chin, gaze unwavering. “All of my people. Be they Roman, Caledonian, or Uliad. The choice is yours. Do your duty or step aside.”

Vesnius swallowed, shifting nervously before finally saying, “I ... You leave me little choice, Empress.”

He tried his best to seem defiant, but she could see the fear behind his eyes. Men like this never thought they were vulnerable, believing everyone, even their monarch, had to back down to their will. They also all crumbled just like he did when they realized they weren’t as indispensable as they thought they were.

“A wise decision. Our people look to these ceremonies for spiritual guidance, as you said yourself,” she said, turning to walk back up to her dais, dismissing him.

No longer face to face with her, Vesnius finally found his courage, saying, “Do not mistake this for surrender, Empress. I will do as commanded, but I cannot condone the path you seem intent upon. Accommodating these outsiders risks taking Rome too far from tradition. You play a dangerous game, Empress. The sword the gods sent may cut both ways.”

Lucilla turned, tensing at the implied threat.

“Is that meant as a warning or prophecy, Vesnius?” she asked, her eyes narrowing.

“Merely an observation. I have given my warning before. I pray you heed it, for the good of our people.”

“The good of our people is why this path was chosen,” Lucilla said. “If you cannot see that, I fear your council will be of little use in addressing the challenges to come. You should go, before that fear becomes a reality.”

Vesnius looked furious but was wise enough to stay silent, bowing and finally taking his leave.

As soon as he was out of her sight, Lucilla sat down on her throne and laid her head back, sighing heavily. Men like Vesnius almost made this job not worth it. In spite of all the evidence in front of them, they couldn’t escape the past. They’d rather see the world burn around them than accept even the smallest change.

“Please tell me that was the last one,” she said to the ceiling.

“Actually, your majesty, Master Hortensius has just arrived in answer to your summons and is waiting outside,” Gaius said hesitantly.

For a man who worked directly for Ramirus, Gaius certainly was jumpy at times. He also hadn’t picked up on her moods or preferences yet, or he would have known that was good news. Hortensius was one of the few people in her Empire that she looked forward to seeing. As much as his enthusiasm could cause her problems, he was also a welcome presence and a pleasant palate cleanser after her last meeting.

“Good, I’ll see him in my office,” she said, smirking inwardly as she said the word, her thoughts instantly going to her absent husband.

There were a lot of things that reminded her of Ky every day, but it still amazed her how much he’d really changed Rome, even in small ways like the words they used. Before Ky arrived she would have called the room where she did the day-to-day work of governance, rather than granting audiences, her tablinum. When people heard him use his new word, however, it had been picked up to the point where she was using it, even subconsciously. It was like that in many areas. Small things he didn’t even think about had become stylish for others to pick up and copy.

Even the chair she sat in, behind the table already stacked with papers, was one of his changes. High-backed, with supports for her arms, like a small, simple throne, had become the standard for seating over the stools her people usually used. Besides making everyone who owned one feel a little like an emperor themselves, the higher back gave support when sitting for long periods of time and was notably more comfortable. Carpenters across the city had been doing a big business making these. Another ripple from Ky’s appearance.