To Love Again - Bertrice Small [104]
“You may not like Leo, or he you,” Aspar said, “but he is the perfect man to be emperor, and he possesses more common sense than you would suspect. For now he lacks ego, although eventually, as with all men in power, the ego will rear its ugly head to cause him difficulties. He loves Byzantium, Basilicus, and is a good administrator. I chose the right man, and the priests know I did. Although they forced me into that little bargain to gain their most vocal support, they are content with Leo, and so are the people. Marcian gave us prosperity, and more peace than we had had in many years. Leo is his most worthy heir.”
“I would think you would not care much for peace,” the prince said.
Aspar laughed. “Twenty, thirty years ago I could not get enough of war, but now I have had my fill. I am in the twilight of my life. I wish nothing more than to live in peace here with Cailin.”
“May God grant you that wish, Aspar, my friend. It seems a very little wish to me,” Basilicus told the general. “Now, am I to be introduced to that exquisite girl, or must I return to my sister’s with the news I neither saw nor spoke with this divine creature who has made you depart your palace in Constantinople?”
Chapter 10
“Is she beautiful?” the empress demanded of her brother.
“Outrageously so,” Basilicus replied, smiling. He had left Villa Mare in early afternoon of the same day he had arrived, hurrying back to the city to report to his eagerly waiting sister.
“Fair of skin?” Verina asked.
“Her skin is as white and as smooth as a marble statue, my dear.”
“What color are her eyes?”
“It depends upon the light,” Basilicus told his sister. “Sometimes they are like twin amethysts, and at other times they appear like early spring violets,” he reported poetically.
“And her hair?” Verina was growing more intrigued as her brother spoke. Basilicus was not a man to lavish praise easily.
“Her hair is auburn, a mass of little ringlets that fall to just below her hips. She wears it loose, and it is most charming.”
“Do not tell me,” the empress said. “Her curls are natural, I am certain. How fortunate she is, but who is she, Basilicus?”
“A young patrician widow of Roman ancestry from Britain,” he answered serenely. “She is most charming, Verina, and she loves Aspar. If you saw them together, you would assume them to be a happily married couple.”
“How did this woman arrive in Byzantium, my brother? A widow, you say? Was her husband a Byzantine? Does she have children? Come now, Basilicus, you are not telling me everything you know.” The empress looked sharply at her brother.
“Her husband was a Saxon, I am told. Their child was lost to them. I have absolutely no idea how she came to Byzantium. Really, Verina, it was embarrassing enough cross-examining Aspar for you simply to satisfy your childish curiosity. I have done my best and will do no more!” he huffed.
“How old is Aspar’s little mistress, and what is her name?” the empress pressed him. “Certainly you know that much.”
“The girl is nineteen, and her name is Cailin,” Basilicus answered.
“Nineteen?” Verina winced. “Poor Flacilla!”
“Flacilla deserves whatever she gets,” snapped Basilicus, eager to escape his sister’s questioning before he told her something he should not tell her. For some reason, Verina was making him very anxious. She knew something, but he did not know what she knew. He shifted nervously.
Verina saw her brother’s discomfort. “I had a visitor this morning, brother dear,” she said sweetly. Too sweetly. “I probably should not confide this to you. Men are so foolish about these things, but since you are obviously holding something back from me, I must tell you so that you will speak freely to me. You know that Leo rarely visits my bed any longer. He listens to his clerics who declare women unclean, a necessary evil for reproduction