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Flavius Livius Secundas sat within the confines of his villa in Constantinople. He was one of the many Patricians who had fled the Western Roman Empire after conspiring to assassinate its newest emperor. Under the protection of the Eastern Roman Empire’s regent, Yazdegerd, he lived a life of quiet luxury.

Secundas came from a long line of patricians and senators, and though the power of the senate had waned in recent centuries, there was still a certain amount of power held in the hands of Rome’s elite families. However, that all came crumbling down when Marcellus ascended to the throne and butchered the senate.

Patricians soon found their lands appropriated by the state, and placed under the control of military officers. If that was not enough, Marcellus had ordered the confiscation of treasuries that belonged to the various Patricians clans, leaving the once wealthy aristocrats poor and destitute. In this new order, there was no need for such useless wastrels, instead capable men who had the means to rule efficiently, and defend the land, were chosen from the ranks of the military.

Some of these men were patricians, those few aristocrats who had learned valuable skills and volunteered for military service held great esteem in the new imperial order. As for the rest of the patrician class, they were cast aside and left to fend for themselves.

This had caused the overwhelming majority of the upper class to turn on Marcellus, however in the end, many of them were identified and executed without trial. Causing those who remained to flee to the east, where they were protected by its regent.

However, recently there were reports of these exiled western patricians ending up in pools of their own blood, or being poisoned from their meals and beverages. A great sense of paranoia loomed in the minds of many, including Secundas, fearing that their executioner was lingering just around the corner._.

Despite this fear, Secundas was currently in the sanctuary that was his villa and at the moment, he was balls deep in his favorite slave. She had served his family for many, many years, and was completely loyal to him. This was not a loyalty based on love and admiration, but rather abuse and intimidation.

If one were to approach her and tell her she had a chance to earn her freedom, she would deny it in fear that by simply thinking about such a possibility, her dominus would punish her severely. Thus she lay on the bed and took the pounding her dominus was giving her while staring out the window with lifeless eyes.

However, in the next moment, she saw a twinkle in the darkness, a flash of light that came from the outside. Or perhaps it was moonlight illuminating a metallic object. Either way, it lasted for but a minute before the glass of the window shattered, and a small iron bolt stuck through the neck of the slave’s master.

The man gazed at the window in shock as he collapsed on top of his favorite slave and bled out all over her. The slave girl was petrified as she stared at the pale, lifeless face of the man who had tormented her for so many years. She was so terrified that she could not even scream. Instead, it took her several moments to recover before she poked the man in the eye to see if he was really dead. Indeed, he was, for he did not even react to her aggression.

It was only after she realized the man was truly dead did she let out a scream, which alerted the guards standing watch outside the door to the death of their master. The villa’s guards immediately rushed into the room to find their master lying dead on the bed with his blood staining the naked slave’s body and face.  They could immediately tell by the broken window and the bolt in the man’s neck that the attacker had come from outside, thus they were quick to alert the other guards.

“Quickly, they can’t have gotten too far. We must get to this assassin immediately!”

However, unfortunately for them, the assassin had already absconded into the night, leaving behind the arcuballista they used to slay the exiled patrician.

—

Marcellus was preparing for his upcoming wedding to Placidia. He was currently in the study of his old villa in Rome where he was going over the venue, and the vows which he had designed. The entire wedding was loosely based upon the traditions he had observed in the memories of his past life.

Though Frank seemed to have significant issues with the purpose of marriage in the amoral wasteland that was twenty-first century America. There was still a longing in his heart for an actual wife and family that he could come home to after a long day’s of work. A simple life that he knew he could never have, at least not in any lasting fashion.

This bitterness in Frank’s heart, which Marcellus had personally felt while in the dream, led the Roman Emperor to design the perfect wedding for him and Placidia. A blend of Roman-Christian traditions, and modern Christian traditions.

While Marcellus was writing down his grand plans for this significant event, the door to his office opened to reveal Sigefrida, who had a wide smile on her face. Upon seeing the woman in such a pleasant mood, Marcellus quickly questioned her about it.

“It’s unusual to see you in such a good mood these days. What happened? Are you perhaps pregnant?”

Sigefrida scoffed at the notion, before dropping a pile of papers on his desk, all while responding to his crude joke.

“How can I be pregnant when you never finish inside? No, I’m happy because another exile is dead. This is the fifth one this week!”

Marcellus gazed at his beloved concubine with a hint of worry in his eyes, just a few years ago her kind soul would never allow her to be happy about the death of another human being, even if they were an enemy, now she was orchestrating the deaths of Marcellus’ rivals left and right, and she was smiling about it.  The woman noticed his gaze and pouted before insisting that he read the document.

“Stop looking at me like that, and read!”

Marcellus did as he was instructed and read through the document. It was a list of names that his assassins had gotten rid of over the past few months. By now, most of the conspirators were dead, and the remainder were starting to hide, no longer trusting the power and prestige of the Eastern Roman Emperor, or more specifically, his regent.

Despite the news, Marcellus was not as happy as Sigefrida thought he would be, and he quickly lectured the woman on what this meant in the grand scheme of things.

“This just means the conspirators who remain will go underground. They will be more difficult to root out and eliminate. I know you want these bastards who have conspired to assassinate me dead, but if you go about it too quickly, you will cause them to scatter and flee to the ends of the earth, where our agents will no longer be able to pursue them.

If we want to get rid of these bastards once and for all, we need a way to lure the survivors into the open so we can eliminate them in one single strike. Find a way to do this, and fix your mess. I don’t want to have to chase these sons of bitches across Asia!”

Sigefrida pouted after she was scolded. She thought she would be praised for her efforts, but in the end she had made a miscalculation and was lectured about it. She walked away with a sunken head, causing Marcellus to realize his mistake and call out to her.

“Sigefrida, you’ve done a good job, you’re just a bit overeager. Make sure to treat this as a learning experience…”

After hearing that, she felt a bit better and smiled bitterly before nodding her head. She planned to do just as Marcellus had said, and lure out the enemy so she can kill them in a single strike before they can flee the range of her influence.