Acacia

Chapter 7

As Anna reached the gates of the castle, a thick layer of snow began to cascade down from the mountains. She thought instantly of the missing woman, this weather was dangerous for anyone left unprepared. The winds picked up, howling like ghosts against the stone walls. The soldiers had begun to set up planks of wood to cover the openings, ensuring that the cold would remain outside. The seas beat mercilessly against the shores by the market.

Inside, a center flame had already been lit quickly warming the expanse of the building. Ophelius was warming his hands speaking to his advisor Quintus. "I'm telling you, we've angered Demeter. In all my years here never has the white rain come to Thessaloniki." He was saying.

Inside, the castle was filled with comforting scents of wood smoke and spices. A slave, a kindly old man with a twinkle in his eye, greeted her with a welcoming smile and a cup of warmed chamomile. The crackling fire danced brightly, casting shadows that flickered like satyrs on the walls. Anna felt an immediate sense of safety. She sent her soldiers away to rest, they'd had a long few days and it surely was not to end soon.

"It is not Demeter," Quintus scolded. "It is winter, it is cold. We are by the mountains. Good weather does not always last even in Olympus." As the snow piled higher against the wood outside, she took a moment to appreciate the colors of the room-rich reds and deep purples that reflected the prosperity the city had over during Ophelius' reign.

"Yes but at least on Olympus they don't have to deal with the mobs of Macedonia." He muttered.

"Every kingdom has its mobs, keeping the people happy is the first priority of the crown. But I'll be the first to admit that you cannot please everyone." Anne spoke up, drawing nearer to her friend.

"Anne!" Ophelius greeted her warmly. "I did not expect you to return so soon, but I am glad you did. Based on the stories and the weather this is a time for all to be in their houses." Anne couldn't help but roll her eyes.

"Even in our darkest hour I will still be out in the wilderness." She said, "Was a man brought before you? I came with a group carrying a suspected perpetrator yet here it is just the three of us."

"Yes," he nodded. "They wanted me to send a man to the executioner without cause. So I told them justice would be done and the man is now in my guest quarters enjoying one of our... lesser known beauties. I know every denizen and citizen of this city and this man they brought before me is as much of a killer as I am."

"You know him?" Anna asked.

"All of the city knows him. This city was named after his sister." Quintus said, sipping his chamomile.

"That is Arrhidaeus. He was supposed to be the next ruler before I arrived with the romans. Ironically we did not have to usurp control-we left it up to the people." Ophelius explained.

"He's... different." Quintus added.

"His brother, Alexander, was set to take the throne and even the senate agreed. Until he was killed of course." Ophelius explained. "I was declared praetor by the senate for Macedonia, this was years ago of course, given this beautiful land and they decided to make me king." He smirked. Anne chuckled. "Never went back, they never reclaimed their land because I'm still relatively loyal to them, and they know your father and I are great friends, Anna. They don't want to risk a loss and look like fools."

Quintus rolled his eyes, an unspoken truth between them. Ophelius was a placeholder in case of an assassination attempt. Only the senate knew that it was Quintus who was the true Consul. Ophelius was wise and trusted enough, however, to make serious decisions in the moment if needed.

In the dim light of the fire, Quintus snuck away to his room in the back of the palace, tempted to peer out into the streets of Thessalonica, but weighed against it as the winter chill was already piercing the abode. As the Roman Consul in Macedonia, he understood the weight of his position; the vibrant city before him was not only a vital hub of trade but also a melting pot of cultures, where Greeks, Romans, and local tribes intertwined their destinies. With the delicate balance of power shifting among these groups, Quintus knew he had to tread carefully, navigating the complex politics that defined this region.