Last King of Kings

Heraclius was going through the reports Jabalah sent him. According to them, he encountered Arabs near a river Yarmouk, but after a few days an Arab messenger arrived, bringing a message from that Arab general. For some reason, Arabs wanted to pack up their things and just leave, and Jabalah let them. Heraclius wasn't mad. He was a bit happy, even, for some reason. But what he couldn't wrap his head around was the reason Arabs just left. Why would they even do that? Heraclius wasn't na?ve enough to think they left just because they feared they'll lose. After all, from all these battles with superior Persian armies, Khalid ibn al-Walid didn't seem to be some coward. He seemed to be more that confident type. Heraclius thought about this seemingly non-important issue over and over. When everyone was glad that there wasn't any need for battle and didn't question the matter further, only Heraclius was rocking his head over this one. Suddenly, a voice interrupted him.

"My Basileus, may I?"

He recognized his friend Bonus. Whatever Bonus wanted from him, it was a great distraction from the seemingly needless worry he had. Heraclius turned on Bonus from behind his table and stood up.

"Of course, my dear friend. But let's go outside, to talk on some fresh air."

Bonus smiled on Heraclius and nodded a little. Then he followed Heraclius. They left the room which Heraclius used as his office of sorts while in the Constantinople. They went down the corridor, until they reached an intersection. There, they turned right and went towards a great stairway. When they climbed up, they stood on a wall that defended the palace. Under them, to the left were the quiet and calm waters of the Sea of Marmara, while on the left still bustling and thriving City of the World's desire, lively as always, even at night. They both looked upon the dark sky, in which white moon was shining brightly, reflecting the Sun's light like a well-polished sabre.

"Well then, Bonus, what did you want to talk about?" asked Heraclius, leaning on one of the battlements. His smile looked very genuine. Almost too much. Bonus quietly observed the lazy waves in the sea, seemingly organizing his thoughts. But the truth was that this view simply blew him away, to the point he forgot what he wanted to say. After a short while, no more than ten seconds, he seemingly remembered.

"My Basileus, it's about the princess."

Heraclius frowned and put his hand on his forehead. His only daughter Roxane was causing him headaches for a while now. He even thought over about his own actions and how he treated her, but couldn't find the flaw. Perhaps there really wasn't one, but perhaps he was just too short-sighed to find one.

"Again? I feel like she's much more daring than before. So, what exactly happened?"

"Well, apparently, her highness, once again, fled from the lecture of Middle Persian. She's starting to be insolent to her teacher and to your servants and retainers. Yesterday, she even insulted the esteemed ambassador from the Persians. Apparently, she called his Majesty their Shahanshah 'Greedy and incompetent old man.'"

Heraclius' eyes widened in terror upon hearing this.

"SHE WHAT?"

He was absolutely mortified. How could his cute and pure daughter, his noble and majestic little princess even dare to say something like that? And to an ambassador from their most valuable ally? And how come he wasn't informed of this before? All these questions lacked any real answers, apart from one. He did realize that he arrived back to Constantinople this morning from some travels. That was pretty reasonable then. But what about the other questions? Anger and terror were swirling in him like waves in a stormy sea. Anger at his daughter, for acting so impudent and unfit of her position, and terror what if the Persian ambassador, and eventually Persian Shahanshah take this insult personally. He had to make sure something like that doesn't happen, to make things right.

He thanked Bonus before he could finish his report and stormed from the walls back into the palace. Although it was night already, it wasn't that much late, so his daughter should be still awake. He half-ran through the palace, not minding any servants along the way. He stormed right into his daughter's room, suddenly becoming aware of his behaviour and his undignified look. Roxane sat in the room at the table, seemingly doing nothing. Upon closer inspection, she just had some notes, presumably from her lectures. She looked on her father, full of surprise. Her expression suddenly and quickly changed, as if becoming aware of the reason her father is in her room. She scoffed and looked away from Heraclius, who was starting to become more and more anxious. His anger subsided and a strange, warm feeling filled his body instead. Perhaps it was compassion. He smiled at her, knowing she was looking away and couldn't see his now genuine smile. But he still had to scold her. If not for running away from the lectures, then at least for insulting his ally's ambassador.

"Roxane, I think you know why I came. I won't punish you for running away from your lessons again. I already accepted and came to terms with it. But I can't let you run around the palace and insult representatives of our most important ally! Why did you even do it?"

Although Heraclius already half knew the answer, he still asked. At first it looked like Roxane won't answer, but she started talking after a short moment. Well, more like she mumbled it to herself.

"I told you, father, I won't marry that guy! Even if you promised me to him, even if he's our ally or whatnot! I won't marry that old man!"

She was very stubborn for her age; Heraclius gave her that. But one thing he didn't understand was why was she calling him "old man." He was anything but that. It wasn't uncommon to marry a small girl off to an already adult man. Sometimes that man could already be a widower. But this wasn't the case at all. This was one of the cases, where the engaged couple was only few years apart. Did he not tell her? No, he most definitely did. He thought for a while and came to a possible conclusion. She was keeping in contact with her already married sisters by letters. They may have put some nonsense in her head. But it wasn't really a surprise she trusted her sisters more than her father. After all, they didn't force her to marry, her father did. Maybe she'd even trust more some father's advisor than her father himself.

"Roxane, my dear, I am sure I already told you, but that man isn't any "old man." He's just a few years older than you."

She turned around and looked at him, her eyes filled with an emotion. Hope, perhaps? But he was sure that wouldn't convince her otherwise. He suddenly remembered what Persian Shahanshah wrote to him when accepting his engagement proposal.

"If I will not be charmed by her when I meet her, I will consider it that your envoy lied to me. And if that would be the case, have his head cut off."

He focused mainly on the first part. "If I will not be charmed by her..." Suddenly, he got an idea.

"Then, Roxane, how about this? You will meet him once, and if you'll still refuse to marry him, I will call the engagement off."

Heraclius was well aware that he very well just can't do that and that she'll have to marry him even if she won't like him during their first meeting. But if he wouldn't have to worry about her until the time comes, he'll be very much relieved.

"Alright, father."

Roxane accepted with a meek and surrendered voice. She probably saw this as her only way out. So she agreed.