Chapter 8: Chapter 7 – Warning The Emperor

Aster entered Raviel's room without a sound. Rogis had come to fetch him from the garden, after what had seemed like an interminable moment. He glanced at the bowl he held in his hands. An appetizing smell escaped from the broth.

Raviel and Mel looked at him and Aster froze slightly. Raviel's cheek bore marks of blows, and his lip was split.

“Nerilla asked me to bring this to you,” he said a little awkwardly.

A faint smile lit up Raviel's face.

“Thank you,” he replied softly.

He turned to Mel.

“Do not worry about me, go join the others. It will get your mind off some things.”

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. When she got up, she glared at Aster, silently warning him he had better not take a wrong step. She disappeared into the atrium, and Aster walked over to Raviel to hand him the steaming bowl. He took it with a thank you.

“What happened?” The bodyguard asked.

Raviel lifted the bowl to his lips and took a sip of the broth before casting a thoughtful gaze on Aster.

“Nothing important.”

“No, it's the second time you've given me that answer. If I have to protect you, I have the right to know what you are hiding from me, and the dangers to which I may be exposed.”

Raviel sighed softly. Aster's arguments were valid, he couldn't deny it, but he hated having to reveal his flaws and expose himself this way.

"My father didn't like me buying you," he grimaced. “But that's more of an excuse than anything else, I'm not very popular in my family.”

Aster refrained from clenching his fists. He resented this kind of abuse.

"Because you don't have a Gift?"

“Among others. Because I am different. You have seen that my physique is unusual for example.”

He caught his breath briefly, and Aster wondered for a moment if his tunic didn't hide other traces of beatings.

“Ever since I was a child, I have had visions.”

“I thought you didn't have a Gift,” Aster cut him off, frowning.

A strange smile appeared on Raviel's lips.

“It's not one. The Gifts flow from our gods. They must be attached to one of them. It’s not my case, so much so that many just think it's a sign of madness, and I'm making up these visions.”

"However, you Massallians have omens, don't you?"

Raviel took another sip before answering and grimaced slightly. The contact of the bowl against his split lip was painful.

“Yes, which are attached to temples. But it is not comparable. They follow a whole series of rituals to receive the word of the god to whom they devote themselves. My visions can happen at any time.”

Aster raised an eyebrow.

"And that's enough for you to be considered mad?"

“Let's say it's just another insult. And that I carry a rather heavy heredity.”

“What do you mean?” Aster asked, suddenly less confident.

Raviel hesitated for a moment before finally revealing:

“Yesterday, I went to see my mother, who is consumed by madness. That's why you haven't seen her, and why she's locked up in an adjoining house.”

Aster remained silent, pensive. A veil darkened Raviel's gaze when his last confrontation with Cecilia came back to him. He had understood for a long time that he had definitively lost his mother, but this fact was still so painful to accept. Especially since her frequent crises forced him to visit her regularly when he would simply have liked to be able to forget this facet of his life.

His fingers unconsciously tightened their grip on the bowl. Sometimes, Cecilia had a few outbursts of tenderness towards him, and that made the moments that followed even more difficult. That moment when madness took over, and when she suddenly remembered she had hated her son for years. He inhaled deeply. It was useless to think about it. It would only hurt him more.

“Tomorrow, I must go to the Emperor. I would like you to come with me.”

“Why?”

Aster bit his lip lightly. Decidedly, his bodyguard struggled to stick to his simple slave status.

"You're supposed to protect me. If you never come with me when I go out, it will end up looking suspicious,” Raviel explained simply. “I will give you a sword.”

Aster stared at him in astonishment.

"Aren't you afraid I'll use it against you?"

Raviel looked at him defiantly for a brief moment, but when he answered, he sounded genuinely sincere.

“No, I prefer to trust you.”

***

Despite the early hour, the sun was already beating down on the city when Raviel and Aster started on the path leading to the Emperor's palace. Aster felt against his thigh the weight of the sword that Raviel had entrusted to him. He had kept his word and, it seemed, had chosen to trust him.

Walking behind him, he could watch the young patrician discreetly. Raviel could have gone all the way to the palace with a litter. Instead, he had chosen to come on foot, despite the heavy toga he had to wear for the occasion. Given the heat, it must have been a real burden, especially since Raviel seemed to favor lighter tunics when he was at home.

"It's much cooler in the palace," The young patrician said, half-turning his head.

The marks on his face had faded during the night, thanks to a particular ointment, he had briefly explained to Aster. They quietly continued on their way, until they arrived at the foot of the palace. Aster observed the place curiously. He had to recognize that the people of Massallia liked doing things in a big way, and they were good at it. He recovered quickly and followed Raviel, who had already taken the steps leading inside.

Suddenly, Raviel jerked back, and his back hit Aster's chest.

“What…”

Aster felt him stiffen against him and followed his gaze. A patrician who must have been their age was waiting, her back leaning against a column and her arms folded across her busty chest. She smirked at them and straightened up before taking several steps in their direction.

"It's been a long time, Raviel," she said mockingly. “Saccius told me that you had seen his father yesterday in the Grand Amphitheater, I would have liked to have had the pleasure of meeting you there.”

Raviel remained strangely still. Aster couldn't see his face, but he felt that his whole body was frozen with apprehension. The patrician suddenly fixed her curious gaze on him.

"So he's the famous gladiator," she laughed. “I really appreciated your prowess… But I must admit that I particularly like this turn of events, I wonder where it will lead us.”

She erased the distance that separated him from Raviel, and Aster took several steps back, to give more space to the young man while keeping an attentive eye on them. Raviel stood very straight as if trying to fill in the few centimeters he needed.

"What do you want, Helvia?"

“Come on ... Why such coldness?”

She held out a hand to Raviel's face, still with that same smirk on her face. Slowly, she slid a silver lock of hair between her thumb and index fingers.

“You are too predictable. When Saccius informed me that you probably had one of your visions in the Grand Amphitheater, I immediately suspected that I would find you here this morning.”

Raviel shoved Helvia away with the back of his hand.

“What do you want?” He hissed.

“I'm just curious. You hate being noticed, so why did you buy a gladiator during the games?”

Helvia's eyes fell on Aster again.

"He's quite nice to look at," she said.

Aster frowned and was about to send her away, but Raviel intervened more quickly.

“That's enough! I didn't come here to waste my time with you!”

"No, but you have no choice," Helvia replied mockingly. “I am now the head of my family. We no longer have the same status.”

Raviel glared at her, and Helvia chuckled.

“I missed these discussions with you. In memory of the good old days, I would like to invite you to my home tonight. I am having a small intimate banquet this evening.”

“I will not come!” Raviel cut her off.

Aster observed the scene without understanding. He had never seen Raviel so aggressive, including in front of Mordax, who wasn’t going easy on him. Whatever happened with Helvia, it must have ended badly. Helvia sighed, but there was still an amused gleam in her gaze.

“I thought you would say that. In that case, consider that your absence would be perceived as an insult.”

"It won't change anything," Raviel replied through gritted teeth.

Helvia seemed to come closer still and leaned forward slightly.

“Come on, stop being so stubborn,” she whispered in his ear. “You wouldn't want me to use my Gift to make you give in…”

Raviel turned pale.

"I won't come," he repeated flatly.

"You're not making it easy for me. Especially since I have to introduce you to someone.”

Suddenly, Raviel's legs buckled, and his knees hit the ground violently. Aster took a step forward, but Helvia's gaze stopped him. She seemed to have suddenly changed and now gave off something unfamiliar to Aster. Something dangerous. An overwhelming force emanated from her body.

Raviel's face was contorted with pain, and he seemed unable to move. Helvia towered over him, then finally arched her chest to slowly slide a finger across his cheek.

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“Still not coming?”

“No.”

Raviel gasped in pain as the pressure on his body increased.

"You quickly forget your place.”

Aster brutally intervened between them, his knees bent and his sword half drawn.

"I think that's enough," he said sharply.

Helvia burst out laughing.

"You trained him well!" she said to Raviel.

But Aster's move had made it possible to break Helvia's concentration, and therefore, the hold she had on Raviel's body.

"I'll let you go to your audience with the Emperor. See you tonight, Raviel!”

"Don't wait for me," he said harshly.

Helvia just gave him her eternal smirk. She took a few steps before suddenly stopping.

“By the way, I can only advise you to be careful ... Your relationship with the emperor raises many questions.”

Raviel froze as Helvia continued on her way as if nothing had happened. Aster ended up interrupting the train of his thoughts by putting one knee on the ground.

“Is everything all right?” he asked calmly.

The look of surprise in Raviel's grey eyes surprised him, and he added with a sigh:

“I am not heartless. And I didn't like her behavior.”

"I'm fine," Raviel replied.

But his voice was still shaking slightly. Aster didn't insist and held out a hand to help him up.

"How did she do it?"

Raviel dusted off his toga and explained in a voice that wanted to appear controlled:

“The Gift of Helvia stems from the Huntress. You could see what this could lead to.”

"The Huntress?" Aster repeated, frowning.

"We don't name our gods," Raviel replied simply. “This makes it possible to mark a distance between men and what belongs to the domain of the divine.”

He seemed to hesitate for a moment before finally adding:

“Thank you for helping me.”

Aster shrugged and replied nonchalantly:

"That's what I'm here for, isn't it?"

Raviel nodded, still looking troubled.

“Who is really Helvia?” The gladiator asked.

“Since her father died last year, she's been the head of one of the most influential patrician families. She also took her father’s place in the Senate. She is only a year older than me, so we have regularly come across each other during our lives.”

He stated all this as if they were only trivial facts, but his gaze seemed distant.

"Are you going to visit her tonight?"

"No," Raviel replied a little too abruptly. “Certainly not.”

And with those words, he headed inside the palace.

***

Unlike Raviel's last arrival, Valens received him in a large living room, bathed in sunlight. Lying on one of the long sofas, he sat up when Raviel entered the room without a sound.

“Raviel,” he greeted.

“Your Imperial Majesty.”

“I'd like to say I'm glad to see you again so soon, but I heard about what happened in the Grand Amphitheater yesterday. I take it you had a vision?”

Raviel nodded slowly and approached.

“I saw a shroud,” he whispered.

He seemed to struggle for words, but Valens let him continue without interrupting him.

“I have no certainty, but given the importance of the ceremony that I saw, it is very likely that it is yours.”

Valens nodded slowly, his gaze darkened.

“Please, sit down,” he said finally, pointing to a second couch. “Are you hungry?”

Raviel shook his head as he sat down. He usually ate little, and his meeting with Helvia had completely taken away his appetite.

“I'm not overly surprised,” Valens sighed.

An unhappy gleam flitted across Raviel's eyes, but he remained silent. He waited for Valens to confide in him and reveal the depths of his thoughts, as he often did.

“The Senate keeps getting in my way. The reforms I am proposing would give too much power to the people by giving them a greater place in the Senate. Not to mention granting legal status to slaves. This does not please, and my detractors are more and more numerous among the patricians.”

Raviel listened in silence.

“I'm getting old. The Senate is just waiting for my death now. When Severus succeeds me, he will probably make sure to tighten his powers around the great patrician families.”

Valens gave Raviel a thoughtful look. The idea of ​​making him his heir had briefly crossed his mind because the young man shared his vision of things much more than his own son. Raviel was open-minded, aware of the value of each life. Conversely, Severus was much more belligerent and did not hesitate to crush those who proved weaker to establish his authority. But by doing so, Raviel's life would become hellish. Too many hated him within their caste, and he would find little support. Especially since without Gift, Raviel would have no legitimacy as an emperor.

Valens loved his son, but as things stood, Severus would not make a good successor. He simply hoped that the time between him and his death would be enough to grant him the maturity necessary for the role of emperor. But that day, Raviel would find himself alone, without the informal protection that Valens offered him.

“What are you going to do?” Raviel finally asked.

“Nothing.”

He raised his hand to tell Raviel to listen to him when he saw the young man ready to protest.

“We have little information; it would be useless to try to act now. I can only increase my vigilance.”

Raviel nodded slowly.

“Can I ask you a question?”

"Of course," Valens agreed with a slight smile.

Raviel hesitated for a moment.

“Why do you believe the visions I have, when the patricians almost unanimously consider this to be just another sign of my instability?”

Valens took his time before answering, aware that Raviel was waiting for a sincere explanation.

“We live in a particularly violent society, where everything is about domination. To curry favor with the most powerful, to stab each other in the back… All this is frequent, so much so that it has become normal. Except for you.”

He paused slightly, searching for words.

"You never tried to curry favor with me. You just do what feels right to you, and I like that. The first time you came to tell me about one of your visions, you were really worried about me.”

Raviel remembered that day. He was still very young at the time, but he had escaped the supervision of his parents, fearing that the emperor had succumbed to an assassination attempt. Raviel had been severely punished by his father. But a few hours later the imperial guards saved Valens from a fanatic convinced that a new religious cult had to be established.

“You are a good person, Raviel. But you've been unlucky in your life. That's why I'm trying to make it somewhat easy for you as much as possible.”

A glint darkened Raviel's grey eyes. Without Valens, he would probably be dead by now.

“It would be wiser for you not to see me anymore,” Raviel whispered. “False rumors about our relationship begin to spread.”

“I got wind of it, indeed.”

Raviel gave him a surprised look.

"But if I had to pay attention to every rumor, I would have retired to a remote island a long time ago," he added with a smile. “Especially since these rumors only serve to discredit me. The patricians know perfectly well that we are only good friends.”

Raviel pouted slightly, obviously unconvinced, and Valens watched him with a sorry expression. He was aware that Raviel's past kept blowing up in his face and that he suffered from it.

“Try not to worry. The rumors will disappear soon enough, as soon as they find a new target,” he tried to reassure him.

Raviel nodded wearily. He had been the target of the patricians for years. He doubted it would end overnight.

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