Making Rome Great Again or how I was born as Constantine IX, Emperor of the Romans ch 46 (Historical Fiction SI)

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The night ended well. The Emperor even stayed up late to see the party through which was a miracle considering his famous dislike for merriment. Zoe thought that she could sneak away a little, spend some time with her brother. But the damnable man had went off to the Hagia Sophia instead to pray and converse with the Ecumenical Patriarch. That had severely cut back on her plans. It...disheartened Zoe that Constantine would not see her first. But disheartening as it was, she knew their places. For the sake of their house, for the sake of Constantine, she had to bear it a little longer. 

The morning found her rising early. She could not sleep well, not when she tossed and turned in her chambers. It was anxiety. it was maddening. So close, yet so far. Her hair frayed, Zoe stared at the ceiling, and sighed. Why could she not have been born a man. That way, she could have been with Constantine wherever he went. They could have adventures together, slaying barbarians wherever, and bringing riches to the polis. But she was born a woman. Her life belonged to the palace, not the fields. At this point, she should have been married. But everyone knew what she had done, running away from a betrothal. That made her unmarriageable, she supposed. 

Or maybe people were scared shitless of her Uncle who had returned Jerusalem to the Empire, or her brother, who had brought the ancient homeland back into the fold. Now, Zoe had no interest in the classics, she was far too beautiful to spend her time hunched over a book like Theodora. But she was still a Roman of high birth. They all knew where they came from but it had been ages since anyone of them went there. Perhaps she should petition to visit there? Such requests were within her power after all. 

She sat up on her bed, her eyes wide as an idea stuck her head. Yes! She could frame this as a way for the Imperial family trying to reach out to their new subjects! 

This was absolutely the only reason, and not because it gave her an excuse to travel with Constantine!

And thus, she made her move. She rushed out of her room, the door swinging with open, and turned for the room across hers. The maids ought to have been away by now but they weren't present. She ran up, and all but kicked the opposite door open, yelling, "Theodora! I have an idea!" Zoe yelled. 

On her bed, her sister groaned. She shifted under her blanket, burying her face into the pillow. 

"It's too early for your ideas," Theodora muttered, her words muffled by the pillow.

Zoe marched into the room as if she was Titus storming Jerusalem. The room, modest compared to Zoe's lavish chambers, was neatly organized, save for the pile of scrolls and parchment scattered across Theodora's desk. 

"Theodora! This is important!" Zoe demanded, hands firmly planted on her hips. 

Theodora peeked out from under her pillow, her eyes half-lidded and irritated. "What could possibly be so important that you must yell so early in the morning?"

Zoe huffed. She perched herself at the edge of Theodora's bed. "I have a plan. A brilliant plan. It involves you, me, and..." she paused for effect, "...escaping this dreary palace for a while."

Theodora groaned again, pulling the pillow back over her face. "Why would I want to leave? I have everything I need right here. A comfortable bed. Scrolls. Silence. What more could I ask for?"

Zoe gasped as if Theodora had just uttered the gravest blasphemy. "Silence? Theodora, you can have silence when you're dead. Don't you want to see the world? Smell the fresh air? Feel the sun on your face?"

"It's hot," Theodora deadpanned, her voice muffled once more by the pillow.

"It's beautiful!" Zoe countered, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "Honestly, you should be ashamed of yourself. Our ancestors from Troy did not complain in the face of the great outdoors, no, they rushed into it with their head held high and sword in their hand!" 

Theodora slowly sat up, her hair a tangle of dark curls, her expression one of half-hearted annoyance. "Aeneas ran because he did not have any other choice. I however have a choice. And my choice is to stay at home." 

This fucking malaka....!

Zoe clicked her tongue. "And here I thought you liked exercise." 

"Yes. Exercise. At home," Theodora deadpanned. 

"Damn it, Theodora," Zoe groaned. "I need your help in this. They never let us out. But if we both want to, the Emperor and Father might listen to us." 

​Theodora did not look impressed. But her sleep was already bothered anyway. The least she could do was hear her sister out. She would not hear the end of it. "Where do you even want to go?" she asked.

"Italy," Zoe declared triumphantly. "I mean, why not? Don't you feel even the slightest bit of curiosity to see it?"

​A flash of curiosity appeared on her sister's eyes. "And do what?" 

"Reconnect, of course," Zoe scoffed, as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. "When was the last time anyone from here went there? It has been so long. It is our duty as daughters of the Eternal City to pay homage." 

A tear went down her eye. "It is what...."

Her mind flashed. 

Theodora raised an eyebrow. Zoe glanced around, trying to remember her lessons. She glanced outside the window and thought of the Columns...

She got it!

"ItiswhatTheodosiuswouldhavewanted," Zoe finished dramatically, a closed fist to her chest, pure patriotism flowing through her veins. Theodora remained unimpressed however, giving her sister a good lookover. 

"You never cared about the Empire, sister. Where is this flair coming from?" Theodora asked.

Zoe gasped, covering her mouth, offended. "Excuse you. I care, very, very deeply for the Empire. I just happen to show it in different ways!" 

Theodora raised an eyebrow but said nothing. She knew better than to push Zoe when she was in one of her moods. The last thing she wanted was to say no to the woman and put up with her moaning. And unlike Constantine, who could come and go as he pleased, she was the unfortunate one who had to live with her. Theodora sighed and swung her legs over the side of the bed. "Fine," she grumbled. "Let's go on tour." 

Zoe clapped her hands together in delight and sprang to her feet. "Let's go ask Constantine to bring us with him!" 

It only made sense. Italy was going to be his playground so they had to ask him first. Then, bump up that request to the Emperor and Father.

Surely, they would be heard out, right?

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​Sleep did not come easy to Constantine. It was impossible to, not when so much was on his head. 

Firstly, he had that council to organize. He already had his uncle giving his assent but now, it was time to get to the Patriarch. Sisinnius II was a fairly pleasant man, not without his own convictions, but deeply interested in theology. That was a good thing since that was his job but a well-versed theologian meant that they had authority on matters related to their ken. They could at least agree on a few matters at least. The decades long separation from Imperial oversight had rendered the Pope in Rome with the false idea he was supreme, as well as letting the position orbit around the Frankish King. Albeit, for understandable reasons, for the Emperors could no longer protect Italy as effectively in the days of old. 

But that was a far different case now. 

Nikea was an acceptable location to hold an ecumenical council. Officially, to celebrate the coming of the new millennium and the return of Jerusalem to the oikumene. Unofficially, to discuss how the Christian world was going to move forward. What a conversation that would be. One could call it black humour, but Constantine was mildly excited to see what sort of fist fights would occur in the council. Santa Claus did it to Arius who had dared claim that Christ was not equal to god, and other such examples. 

Secondly, he needed to get his retinue in order. With the deaths of Miroslav and Dalassenos, he was bereft of people to trust. It was not too bad however. The Taronitai were firmly behind him, and Prince Stjepan was a friend of sorts. He would be happy to call upon Damian's sons to enter his service. Constantine Dalassenos was stubbornly loyal to the Makedonian house after all and an equally capable military commander like his father. John Ammiropoulos, he was going to keep close for Italian matters. It really was a great pity that Xiphias was too impatient otherwise Constantine would have been happy to let him serve in his court. Then there was a bevy of other historical figures he could utilize for his own purposes though he was going to avoid having those who had proven treacherous to the House. 

He wasn't going to tempt fate like that. 

Thirdly, he now had the time to look back at his own personal investments. He had largely left it all to Stephanos who had pretty much became his second in running his unImperial ventures. And now, standing before him, the eunuch gave him a formal bow. And he was not alone. Behind him, a trio of secretaries carrying leather bags filled with parchment. 

It was unlike most to start business so early. But an early riser, Constantine was. He stood up from his seat, a sleepy robe clinging around his body. This was utterly out of protocol, to discuss serious matters in medieval equivalents of pajamas, but Stephanos had long since understood that in private affairs, Constantine gave less shits to protocol. 

"I have progress reports for your projects, Caesar," Stephanos began, getting straight to business. "I can talk about the long points or just give you a summary." 

"You can leave the reports here for me to review," Constantine said, waving the eunuch off. "Do tell me, Stephanos. How much money have we made?" 

The eunuch clicked his tongue, glancing to his secretaries, and waving them to go away. The secretaries bowed, and turned away. Now alone, Stephanos turned back. "Most of Moesia has adopted your new techniques. We have thrice the yields of wheat, beef, and vegetables. The price of food and leather has dropped there." 

"And not here?" Constantine asked. The accumulation of one thing meant its price dropped. 

"The Eparch of the City has restricted importation to a 'moderate' amount," Stephanos scoffed. 

"Excuse me?" Constantine blinked. 

Stephanos nodded. "Yes, the Emperor had ordered the Eparch to restrict Moesian products as to not shake up local prices." 

​Constantine frowned. The Collegia were the guilds of the city. They controlled what went in and out, if the Emperor did not interfere with that. "What have you done in the meantime?" he asked. 

"I directed the exports to other markets," Stephanos answered. "Thessaloniki, Athens, Dyrrachium, Illyria. They had been damaged by the Bulgarians and welcomed the foodstuffs." 

"Good," Constantine nodded. He could care less if he made money from that. No, the real cash was in luxury goods. The cheaper food had profits in other ways. It was a type of math any respectable administrator with big plans could love. More food + more babies = more soldiers. "We can get the imports back to the City with my new popularity. The Collegia will need an extremely good reason as to deny Moesian exports now." 

Speaking of foodstuffs. "And the thing which I asked for?" Constantine asked carefully. 

Stephanos expression turned sick, then he shook his head. "I can have it brought in," Stephanos said.

"Bring it. Now." Constantine ordered. 

Stephanos turned to his secretaries and gestured. Constantine stood up, excitement burning through him. While there was a great many things that was lost to him now: tomatoes, maize, chocolate, potatoes! (And good God how he missed French Fries), there was still a few things he could reasonably reach. His excitement peaked as the secretaries man-handled a familiar smelling sack of beans. 

Constantine beheld it as if it were the last pieces of cheese in a world about to become cheese-less. 

"Your...your devil-beans," Stephanos spat. 

Constantine bid the secretaries open it and they did. Inside, the little black coffee beans glimmered. Constantine leaned over, reaching down and holding them up. They were hard in his hand, and looked slightly smaller than he remembered. But size does not matter and these little beans would be lightning for the Empire. He glanced to Stephanos, and smirked.

"I told you to try it with milk and coffee," Caesar chided him. 

"I did," Stephanos tutted. "I did not like it. It made me uncontrollable."

"That's the point," Constantine smirked, dropping the beans into the sack. The smell was still strong in his hands. It was an expensive bet that coffee existed at this point in time. He left Stephanos specific instructions to find black beans in the Red Sea that smelt good and made one energetic. Stephanos had no idea what the hell Constantine was talking about but the dutiful eunuch was paid more than enough to note care. 

Apparently, the man proved his worth. "Wait till you find out what I can do with it," Constantine giggled. 

"How did you even think of such things?" Stephanos asked.

"As I have told you a dozen times, it came to me in a dream," he snorted. "Now, the other thing?" 

"Should I just bring everything in, then?" Stephanos raised an eyebrow. 

"Yes!" Constantine chuckled, rubbing his hands together. 

​And thus, extra sacks were assembled onto his room. His nose twitched, familiar. Stephanos lightly tapped the next sack. "This, this was much more palatable," he proclaimed. Constantine bid it to be opened, and fragrance filtered into his nostrils. The leaves were dried, desiccated. 

"I prefer the devil beans," Constantine cleared his throat. "But the leaves are good too. I think the Emperor would find this interesting." 

​A great merchant made a market. The Constantinopolitan elite craved for luxury goods, to be the first in everything. That was why he made a killing off selling modern style sanitary products to them. Coffee's benefits would be obvious. The soldiers would crave it, the bureaucrats would need it. Tea, Constantine felt, would be much more slower. But he was more than happy to make the elite have tea as their whole personality. It was calming, refined, and compared to the effects of coffee, mild. 

The gentleman's drink and the soldiers brew. 

But Constantine wasn't just going to tunnel-vision on luxury goods. As much as he craved espresso and milk-tea, he also craved another thing too. Unironically, from the same place which he was going to conquer. "Sakcharon and roz," Stephanos introduced. 

Sugar and rice. Both items weren't exactly strangers to Europe. Both were brought from the East in times of antiquity, though mostly as imports rather than homegrown. But the Arabs had brought both for cultivation in Sicily, as wells as lemons, oranges, and cotton. Most of whom were in the same sacks being presented to him. "Were these easier to find?" Constantine asked, running his hand through the finely grained sugar then the rice, his thoughts of making a paella with the former and a sweet coffee with the latter. 

"They were," Stephanos nodded. "Th-" 

Constantine looked up sharply as the doors to his room swung open. Zoe strode in with confidence, her head held high and her smirk firmly in place. Theodora lingered behind her, half-hidden by her sister's billowing robes, her eyes tired and half-asleep. The guards stationed outside his chambers glanced in, their expressions caught between unease and resignation. Constantine noted their hesitance with a flicker of irritation. If Miroslav had still been alive, no one would have dared to barge into his chambers uninvited. Constantine sighed. He needed another loyal Varangian, someone with both the strength and the nerve to enforce boundaries, even with family.

Zoe, oblivious to or perhaps purposefully ignoring her brother's annoyance, strode forward and placed her hands on her hips. "Good morning, brother," she greeted, a mischievous glint in her eye. Her gaze swept over his robe, and her smirk deepened. "Still in your sleeping attire, I see. Very imperial of you."

Constantine glanced down at his loosely tied robe and bare feet, then back up at Zoe. "And yet, somehow, still more dignified than barging into my chambers unannounced."

Zoe ignored the jab, turning her attention to the sacks scattered around the room. "What are those?" she questioned, leaning over the rice sack. Theodora, meanwhile, kept her eyes firmly on the floor, scandalized. 

"The future of Roman cuisine," Constantine answered. His lips clicked. "What are you doing here?" he asked, his tone clipped.

"We've come to see you, of course," Zoe replied sweetly, though the gleam in her eyes betrayed her true intentions. "And to tell you about our plan."

"Plan?" Constantine repeated, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," Zoe said, her voice bright with enthusiasm. "We want to go to Italy."

Constantine stared at her for a long moment, then shook his head. "No."

Zoe's smile faltered. "What? Why not?"

"Because," Constantine said, his voice firm, "Italy is a freshly reclaimed territory. The countryside is still unstable, and there are folk who would love nothing more than to capture two porphyrogennete. You'd be walking ransom notes."

Zoe pouted, crossing her arms over her chest. "All I...we want is to spend some time with you. We haven't seen you since you left!" 

 Constantine sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Zoe," he said flatly, "I am still not taking you to Italy. The answer is no."

Zoe's pout deepened, her bottom lip jutting out in an exaggerated display of hurt. She clasped her hands together, swaying slightly where she stood, a practiced motion that had worked on countless admirers and servants. "But Brother," she whined, her voice taking on a saccharine lilt, "don't you want to spend time with your darling sisters? We've missed you so much."

Constantine's expression didn't waver. Then, he turned to the sacks.

An idea formed in his mind. 

"Fine," he said at last.

Zoe's face lit up. "Fine?" she repeated eagerly. "You mean, you'll take us to Italy?"

"No," Constantine said, shaking his head. "But we can spend time together."

Zoe frowned in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Constantine gestured to the sacks. "I've always wanted to go to the beach."

Zoe blinked, clearly caught off guard. "The beach?"

"Yes," Constantine said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I've been working nonstop, and I could use a break. A day at the beach sounds...refreshing."

Zoe tilted her head, studying him suspiciously. "You're serious?"

"Completely," Constantine replied. "Pack what you need. We'll leave soon."

Zoe looked like she was about to protest but then seemed to think better of it. Instead, she turned to Theodora, her expression triumphant. "See? I told you we'd get him to spend time with us.

Constantine turned to Stephanos, who had been standing silently off to the side throughout the entire exchange. "Make the arrangements," he said. "And bring the sacks with us. I wish to revolutionized cuisine."

Stephanos inclined his head, long used to Constantine's wording. "As you wish, Caesar."

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A/N: Beach episode. 

Apolocheese for the lack of updates. Taiga is sick, again. It was also time for Sinulog which is a religious festival here. But I was mostly with Taiga. He has sepsis, and his infection has got him paralyzed. I was not in the right head space to do anything since Taiga had his shit kicked in and seeing my boy whom I had raised since he was a kitten look like that did a number on me. 

Now, he is being stabilized. Here are some pictures of him. Please, pray for the little man. 

Now, back to the fic, Sicily is going to have some actual practical benefits for the wider Empire. The Arabs had introduced plenty of crops onto the island and by the current year, it has become widespread there. It is quite interesting actually. Much of the crops mentioned existed since time of Antiquity but they became widespread much later. But why wait for later when it can be done now?

When Sicily is going to be retaken, Constantine will do everything in his power to ensure that they will become widespread.