Dragon's Tale 74 (Patreon)

After Olivia’s cousin entered the room, the festive atmosphere changed irrevocably. Even the show I was putting, one against eight while handicapped by the magical chains didn’t help to distract the noble guests as Olivia and her cousin tried to mingle. 

Despite their obvious discomfort, none of them left the party, and if I was reading their gazes accurately, it wasn’t because they were afraid of offending Olivia. 

No, their fear was clearly about Atia, who watched the situation impassively. They were not sure how to handle what they perceived as a sudden change of personality, afraid of triggering her anger. Of course, that was hardly accurate. So, while I tried to defend the coordinated assault of the soldier, Olivia’s cousin started talking with the rest of the guests. 

Curious, I expanded my senses magically to eavesdrop on them. 

“T-Tiberius,” one of the nobles stammered, which hardly helped to hide his shock. Pity I was busy dodging another attack, so I wasn’t able to examine his expression, as it would have been enjoyable. “I didn’t know you have returned. I thought you were still in Africa.” 

“No, there had been a slight change of plans, so I returned early. Luckily, just in time to put my name for the election,” Tiberius answered, his voice harder than I expected considering his weak stature, yet strangely melodic.

“E-elections,” the noble answered, not bothering to hide his flinch. Clearly, there was a story behind it. “W-will we have the honor of seeing you as a Consul, Tiberius,” he said.  

“Unfortunately, no,”  Tiberius answered. “Such an honor is not something I can handle. I’ll be declaring my candidacy as a Praetor.” 

The Roman Republic had a complicated structure, but it wasn’t inaccurate to say that two Consuls were the most important people for the year they were selected, responsible for leading the Senate — and in cases of emergency, responsible for defending the Republic, sometimes through extreme measures. In comparison, eight Praetors were selected each year, and their sphere of influence mostly covered legal affairs. 

However, not being as important as Consuls hardly meant that they were unimportant. After all, each Praetor was one of the ten most important active politicians for the year, each with a huge width of power, each decision coming with countless implications. 

Yet, when the noble answered, his tone was visibly relaxed. “That would be the honor of the Republic to have such a capable Praetor,” he said as he leaned forward. 

And he wasn’t the only one whose attitude transformed. 

Their reactions made it clear that Tiberius was a controversial figure in Rome despite his social position, but not enough to make him a total Pariah, as evidenced by the attitude change when he declared he would be running for a ‘lowly’ Praetor position rather than trying to be a Consul. 

An interesting development, I thought even as I observed Tiberius mixed with other nobles, chatting calmly, though several subtle perks were exchanged, along with some weak promises for future financial support. 

The promise of financial support was especially important, as it was hardly a secret that Roman elections were aggressively reliant on bribery. No one could be elected without spending a ridiculous amount of money. However, whatever that made those nobles worry during the initial entrance hadn’t been resolved during the discussion, at least not entirely, as the promises of help were very vogue, avoiding any concrete numbers and hard commitment.

And I noticed the anger flashing in Tiberius’ eyes occasionally before he managed to hide it.  

Of course, that left a question in my mind. Why Tiberius, a member of a Patrician house, needed the financial support of the lesser nobles to actually run for Senate. Yes, bribes were necessary, but I doubted the amount that was needed to run for Praetor was enough to turn a Patrician house destitute. 

Clearly, there was something I didn’t know. 

Still, even as I continued to fight, creating a luxurious background to the discussion, the nobles took their seat back on their reclined chairs, the aura of decadence recovering as the earlier fear and shock slowly disappeared. Of course, the fight only continued because it was just a show, as the attacking soldiers pulled back whenever their formation got too strong around me, and never attacked together. And with the magical chains around my wrist, I was hardly in a position to retaliate and get a quick win. 

However, as the discussion continued, I noticed Tiberius’ gaze on me more than once. He wasn’t the only one that was watching me, of course, but unlike others, his gaze wasn’t tainted by anger or amusement. Instead, it was a cold, calculating gaze. 

The kind of gaze a merchant would have before buying a particularly expensive horse, and trying to make sure the horse was worthy of the investment. 

His motives were not that hard to decipher. Even the lowest senators usually had guards with them to protect them from immediate danger, as no matter how strong a mage was, a successful stab to the heart was enough to kill them. Of course, an attack on the senators was not exactly common, nor intense enough to justify the large groups of bodyguards to follow them. 

Of course, with the bodyguards’ constant presence, along with the relative uselessness, in a sense, it turned into a fashion ornament, the kind that highlighted the relative importance of the senator in question. A part of it was the number of bodyguards, of course, with the important ones like consuls and ex-consults sometimes having more than twenty guards. 

Another part of it was was the individual reputation of the bodyguards rather than the capabilities. So, the richer senators loved to buy gladiators to act as their bodyguards, especially from the four great gladiatorial schools. The more famous the gladiator, the more valuable the branding value it brought along. 

It was a cushy job for the gladiators as well, a great salary and eventual freedom without the risk of being eaten by a monster for the pleasure of the others. Even for me, it was a tempting role, as it would allow me to access the patrician estates much easier as my owner was entertained by the others. 

Yet I had no intention of getting that position, as the constant observation it would bring on me was hardly worthwhile. 

It was not a job interview. If Tiberius purchased me, I didn’t have the option of gently rejecting his employment offer. Luckily, it wasn’t the only way of actually doing it. 

If there was one thing that was important for a bodyguard, it was a calm mind, and not all great warriors had it. “Come here, little boy,” I growled as I swung toward the nearest guard, forcing him to retreat. 

From there on, I started acting more and more aggressively, shouting and growling, leaning even harder to the barbarian image, Most of the nobles cheered for it, welcoming the distraction. From their perspective, it was a better show. Even the interested gaze of the ladies intensified, as their attraction to me was about my wild reputation. For them, my growing anger meant that their eventual ‘barbarian’ experience would be even more amazing. 

The only one that was disappointed by it was Tiberius, but the speed he had come to that decision surprised me. I was planning to do some more aggressive stuff to ultimately dissuade him. Him changing his decision just by the initial display of anger was surprising. 

I started acting even more like a berserker for a while for good measure. And when Olivia finally called the show to end, I made a show of breathing hard and trembling, like I was having trouble stopping myself from going forward and killing the guards. 

Just in case Tiberius changed his mind. 

While the audience clapped, Olivia gestured me to take a seat — one that was sufficiently away from the nobles, naturally — while the rest of the nobles continued their entertainment, enjoying wine, fruit, and other delicacies as they discussed politics. 

I continued to eavesdrop on their discussion, trying to get a better understanding of why Tiberius’ presence was such an alarming topic. Unfortunately, that didn’t work particularly well, as their discussion was focusing on very nuanced details of particular political entities, in a level of detail I lacked the context to understand even if they hadn’t been trying to keep things obscure, making it even more impenetrable. 

I still managed to capture a few things, the most important being Tiberius’ political positioning. He was a Reformist, which was not a title that was well-liked in Rome, not when their existence had caused several civil wars. 

Of course, that told very little about what exactly he stood for, as the discussions stayed quite a bit away from the content, but it was enough to clue for me to stay away from Tiberius. 

I had enough problems before involving myself in Rome’s complicated political battles. 

Luckily, as the people’s alcohol consumption heightened, some started to leave, and more than one collapsed, utterly drunk. After their overconsumption, the servants led them to guest rooms for them to rest.  Not every one that left the main area was drunk, of course. Tiberius, along with three that looked the most receptive to his discussion points left the party as well, no doubt to have a deeper conversation about their dangerous political position. 

Their wives stayed behind, their smiles enthusiastically anticipatory.