"Father-in-law," Constantine's voice carried across the lamplit hall of Arelate, deceptively soft amid the ring of layered mail and boot-scrape on marble. "It seems your mourning period was brief."
Maximian Herculius stood chained between two guards. Purple rage mottled a face that had once cowed generals; yet defiance still glinted in his eyes. "You were reported dead—felled by your own recklessness!" he barked, pulling himself straighter. "I acted to preserve order, to rally Gaul's legions against collapse."
"You acted to seize my treasury and my eagles," Constantine answered, each word as level as a plumb line. He descended a single step, cloak whispering behind him. "You lied to steal an empire. You betrayed your oath at Carnuntum; this is your second and final treachery."
