The Path to Power (1)
Constantine VIII. Father of Zoi and Theodora, the de facto last emperor of the Macedonian dynasty, and co-emperor ruling the Eastern Roman Empire alongside the current emperor, Basil II. History painted him as debauched, but some scholars argued he handled the social duties in place of Basil II, who shunned public life. Either way, it was undeniable that he had worked in perfect harmony with Basil II to usher in the Eastern Roman Empire's resurgence.
Such a historical figure sat before me now. Unlike the blunt Basil II, he was a master at handling nobles in high society. Naturally, I couldn't help but feel tense. Perhaps sensing my inner turmoil, the emperor tossed a joke my way.
"I'm sorry for dragging you away when you were having such a good time. The Varangians are said to drink like fish, so I wanted to see just how much you could handle."
With that, the emperor offered me another drink. Honestly, one more cup and I'd black out, but I couldn't refuse a drink from the emperor himself. I downed it, and Constantine VIII burst into roaring laughter, clapping his hands.
"What a fun fellow. Lord Uranus seems to think so too."
"Haha, spot on, Your Majesty. He's a man I've had my eye on."
This time, Lord Nikephoros offered me a drink. The two of them clearly intended to get me blackout drunk. As I'd mentioned before, I had no right of refusal here. If the emperor was the CEO, then Lord Nikephoros was like the executive director. That's how it worked in the real world too—the American IT company I'd worked for had plenty of these drinking sessions. You could refuse your boss's drink, but you knew exactly what the consequences would be. And this was the stricter medieval era, far beyond the modern world. So I swallowed down the rising bile with all my might and took another swig.
A sharp throb hit my head. This wine was far stronger and harsher on the hangover than modern stuff, and my body thrashed like it couldn't take any more.
"You really can hold your liquor, Lord Rogerius."
Lord Nikephoros, delighted, slapped my back—wanting to say something to him, but what was there to be happy about? I nearly spewed everything right there in front of the emperor and the military commander. A close call. Whether they knew my inner panic or not, the two just kept grinning at me.
"I'd love to tease you more, but if we keep going, you'll pass out. How about we call it here?"
Nikephoros's suggestion. The emperor nodded and straightened his posture.
"Good idea, Lord Uranus."
Then he turned to me with a meaningful expression.
"A Varangian from the Gallic regions. With so many half-brothers, no land to inherit, so you came down to Italy to plunder..."
His voice was calm and steady, impossible to believe he'd been drinking moments ago. As my personal history spilled from the emperor's lips, my senses sharpened instantly.
"No real records before that. No acquaintances, just training and reading."
His gaze pierced my heart like a blade.
"A man with little experience leading armies—how did you manage such a great victory? Tell me everything, without hiding a thing."
A chill ran down my spine. Who wouldn't call him Basil II's brother? The two overlapped perfectly in my mind. But the pressure was different. Basil II's aura crushed down like a hammer, while Constantine VIII's felt like a viper coiling around my body. Show the slightest gap, and those venom-dripping fangs would tear into my throat.
To survive, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
"I... I just applied what us Varangians have done our whole lives."
"What Varangians do their whole lives? I didn't know they were in the shipping business."
The emperor demanded more explanation.
"The Varangians the world knows are seen as pirates and raiders. But we were originally merchants. In our barren lands, trading as merchants was the only way to get food and survive."
The poor image of Vikings. Even modern media depicted them as savages in horned helmets swinging axes. The medieval world wasn't wrong either—the Eastern Romans back then viewed Vikings much the same.
"To move bulky, heavy food supplies, transport was essential. That's why we sailed ships that could navigate rivers and seas swiftly."
Lord Nikephoros nodded at my words, while the emperor scrutinized my eyes.
"Doesn't seem like a lie."
The emperor lifted one corner of his mouth. Suddenly relaxed and at ease, he continued with a sly grin.
"I'm no expert in military matters, you see."
Then why ask? The retort nearly slipped out. Sensing it, the emperor answered promptly.
"I was testing if you're good at lying. One of my long-time hobbies."
Get a man drunk and quiz him, then brush it off as a hobby? What kind of personality was this? Outrage bubbled up naturally.
"Don't be too upset, Lord Rogerius. His Majesty just wanted to check a bit before appointing you."
Lord Nikephoros's interjection. I shoved down my surging emotions. Ignoring my feelings, the emperor studied my face and pressed on.
"I was hoping for someone cunning with a knack for schemes. Well, honesty has its merits too. Zoi can cover any shortcomings."
Zoi? Was he talking about his own daughter? My eyes widened.
"Above all, your looks aren't bad. I like that."
His assessment of me complete, the emperor leaned back on the sofa. Then Lord Nikephoros spoke up.
"As His Majesty mentioned earlier, we've looked into you a bit. Third son, never married, no children... No obligations to continue your family line or anything like that?"
Continue the family line? Angelos's words flashed back—Lord Nikephoros might adopt me. It felt like it was becoming reality, so I asked to confirm if I'd understood right.
"May I ask why you're inquiring?"
Nikephoros smiled brightly and answered firmly.
"No. Yes or no—that's the only answer you can give."
His words felt like a final warning. I wanted to think it over more before answering, but the situation allowed no such luxury, and the alcohol clouded my rational judgment.
"Lord Rogerius seems to be hesitating. May I give him a little push, Lord Uranus?"
With the emperor's words, Nikephoros bowed as if to say of course.
With permission, the emperor looked at me and spoke.
"You've probably guessed by now. Lord Uranus wants to adopt you and have you carry on his line."
"...Wh...why me?"
"Simple. You're young and capable, so he wants you on our side."
Our side? What did that mean? Was he telling me to dive into this cutthroat noble politics? I wasn't ready for that big a game yet.
"From your expression, you want to stay out of politics. That's impossible."
The emperor read my mind. Like Basil II, Constantine VIII had an uncanny knack for seeing through people.
"In this war, you earned great merit. Thanks to that, you got first dibs on looting Ohrid and took the most spoils. The nobles must have heard by now."
It wasn't about interest in the spoils. The point was how I'd earned the right to loot Bulgaria's capital first. And with approval from Basil II and Lord Uranus to boot. It was like a certification mark that those two acknowledged my abilities.
A talent eyed by the emperor and his right-hand man, Nikephoros—yet a foreigner whose only support was captaining a Varangian unit. Embarrassing to say it myself, but to the nobles, I must have looked like gold lying in the dirt. Young too, perfect for a family with daughters to take as a son-in-law. Like it or not, people would come swarming.
"So... even if you don't want it, everyone will come running to claim you."
If I had a power base, I could marry into a politically advantageous family and build influence. Unfortunately, I didn't even have the strength to refuse approaching nobles. Just look at Lord Nikephoros's offer right in front of me—I couldn't turn it down.
No choices. At least Nikephoros was favorable to me, so if I phrased it politely, I might wriggle out. But refuse a stranger noble's proposal? They might take it as an insult. And if there were several... it would be a disaster.
"Accepting Lord Nikephoros's offer would let you avoid all that. And there are other benefits too."
"Other benefits...?"
The emperor smiled slyly and turned his gaze somewhere. I followed it. There stood a woman. A pure white tunic draped in a purple dress. Her jewels sparkled, accentuating her stunning beauty. She looked like an angel descended to earth.
"You called for me, Father?"
Zoi Porphyrogenita. Hands clasped politely, she greeted Constantine VIII.