Free Love, Eternally by Morgan O'Neill Page B

of his birds. He began to hum, something she had never heard him do before. This reminded her that she did not know Honorius very well, for he had been out of the nursery and care of women when she came along. Additionally, he and his full brother, Arcadius — so recently dead — were the sons of their father’s first wife; she was daughter of the second, her dear mother, Galla, who died when she was but four years old.
    “We do believe you are pouting.” Honorius offered her a goblet, then took the couch opposite hers. “Smile, dear sister, for the day has dawned bright, and joyfulness awaits you. Why, we even called for an ancient amphora to be opened for our celebration. This is a rare Pollenzo wine, more than fifty years old.” He raised his glass and intoned, “Alas, alas, that wine should live longer than man — ”
    “Brother, forgive the interruption, but,” Placidia’s heart raced, “but what celebration?”
    “First this.” He sniffed his wine. “Drink. Tell us what you taste.”
    Placidia did as she was told. The wine had a pronounced violet fragrance; she let it linger on her tongue. “It’s fruity, but not too sweet. Wonderful,” she sighed.
    Honorius sipped and nodded. “It is sublime, is it not?” He gulped down the rest and burped.
    “Brother, remember your manners,” Placidia teased. “You sound like those ghastly ambassadors from Syria Palaestina.”
    He laughed. “And now, dearest sister, let us return to the reason for our little celebration. Today, we have but one wish, Placidia — to make you happy. You are finally of marriageable age, and, we dare say, in need of a husband.”
    She felt herself blush.
    “Hmmm, we have been thinking … ” His expression grew melancholy. “We consider you our closest kin, even closer than Arcadius was, for we were separated from him so long ago. As such, dearest sister, we would always keep you near, and we intend to do just that.”
    She was instantly aware of the significance of what he had said — he was being quite personal with her, very intimate in tone. But he’d also just eliminated several potential husbands, the sons and nephews of Christian foreigners. What was his aim?
    He rose, walked to the table, and poured himself another glass of wine. Upon rejoining her, he sat on the edge of her couch and looked into her eyes. “Father honored you greatly, Placidia, when he raised your status beyond that of mere princess of Rome. As Nobilissima Puella , you are almost our equal in power and wealth — almost,” he winked, “and long have we pondered how we could surpass — ”
    “Honorius,” she cut in, “please forgive my rudeness, but who shall be my husband? Please, the suspense — ”
    “Is maddening? Hmmm, you are so very different from Pulcheria, aren’t you, dearest sister?”
    Placidia frowned in puzzlement. “How? What has she to do with this?”
    “Surely you’ve heard she declared perpetual virginity for herself, in order to rule as regent,” he glanced slyly at Placidia, “and so she could never be forced into a marriage of state.”
    “No,” Placidia’s voice was low, “I had not heard. Still, what has her decision to do with me?”
    “Ah, but you are eager for a husband, a virile man, one to warm your bed, your body, aren’t you, dear sister?”
    She suddenly felt hot, her cheeks aflame with embarrassment.
    Honorius chuckled. “And what, pray tell, what clue should we first reveal, as to the identity of the one who will have the honors?”
    “Brother!”
    He laughed, then leaned toward her conspiratorially. “We have found a way to pay tribute to you, Most Noble Girl, by giving you something even Father could not. Your future husband is a military genius, a great commander of men.”
    Military genius? Placidia searched her memory, trying to recall the remaining names on her list. But there were no soldiers … unless … Magnus had fought many battles against the barbarians. Yet, she had not put his