Chapter Thirteen

[Athaulf] was helped especially by his wife, Placidia, who was a woman of the keenest intelligence and of exceptional piety; by her persuasion and advice he was guided in all measures leading to good government.

—Orosius, Historiarum adversus paganos libri septem (7.43)

P lacidia stood in front of Athaulf's desk as they faced Constantius, who had come to hear their answer to the ransom offer. Constantius inclined his head and murmured some niceties about hoping Athaulf's injury was healing well. His appearance was as unappealing as Placidia remembered, but his eyes shone with anticipation as he looked at Placidia, no doubt envisioning her as his bride and himself on the throne.

"Thank you for coming all this way," Placidia said. "King Athaulf and I have discussed your offer at length. Unfortunately, we have determined that it is impossible to accept."

Constantius's gaze flicked from Athaulf to Placidia, frowning likely in confusion at the fact that she was delivering the decision, not Athaulf. "Is this true?" he demanded of Athaulf.

Athaulf, seated at his desk, merely glanced up at Placidia.

"You may address me, Constantius, as it is my future we're discussing," Placidia said crisply.

He shot her a glare, bulbous eyes narrowed. "I cannot imagine what you found unsatisfactory about Honorius Augustus's most generous offer."

"It was a generous offer," Placidia conceded. "But a condition of that offer was my hand in marriage, correct?"

He gave a sharp nod.

"That will be impossible," Placidia said, "as my hand is already spoken for." She gave Athaulf a significant glance.

Constantius took a moment to absorb this. Then, his face turned a mottled red. "You cannot mean—you would give yourself to a barbarian?" he hissed.

"I have given myself to the king of a powerful state, one whose alliance will greatly benefit Rome. Is that not what is expected of an imperial princess?"

Constantius strode forward, grabbed Placidia's forearm, and dragged her several steps away from the desk. Athaulf shot to his feet as soon as the general touched her, but Placidia did not resist, regarding Constantius calmly as his fingers tightened around her wrist.

"Has he taken you by force?" Constantius demanded. "Is he threatening you to say such things, to make such promises?"

Athaulf suddenly appeared at Placidia's shoulder; she hadn't even noticed him approach. "I would thank you to unhand my wife," he growled.

Something warm and tingly uncurled in Placidia's stomach at his words. My wife. They were not yet married, but the small matter of a wedding ceremony seemed inconsequential to Athaulf in this moment.

"Wife," Constantius spat, but he did release Placidia's arm.

Placidia stepped back until she just brushed against Athaulf's body. "I have chosen Athaulf freely."

"The emperor will not stand for this!" Constantius's knobby hands clenched into fists. "To allow his sister to be defiled by a barbarian—"

She cut him off before he could continue insulting Athaulf. "I am confident that in time, Honorius and his advisors will come to see the value in this arrangement. After all, what more could he wish for than to turn the Goths, who have wrought such destruction throughout the empire, to allies rather than enemies?"

"Rome has no need to ally with savages."

Placidia took a step forward. Constantius was treading on thin ice with these continual insults toward Athaulf and his people, but she gathered a veil of calmness around her. "You know better than I how many threats the empire faces. Usurpers have been popping up like weeds, and there are more tribes than only the Goths threatening the empire's borders. It would only benefit Rome to have such a large military force allied with her."

Constantius, to his credit, seemed to listen to her, though his jaw remained clenched and anger still burned in his eyes. "You expect me to believe that a Goth would turn his hand to defending the empire, instead of trying to destroy it?"

Athaulf placed a hand on Placidia's shoulder. "This Goth will, if Galla Placidia asks it of him."

Another tendril of warmth spiraled through her, and she turned her head to smile at him. He returned a grin, and before they could spend too much time smiling stupidly at each other, she forced herself to return her attention to Constantius. "I don't believe there is anything more to be said here. I trust you will take our answer back to Honorius at your convenience."

His thin lips tightened. For a moment, it looked like he was trying to summon another retort or objection, but finally, he seemed to concede. Without a word of parting, he turned and left the tent.

"He is insufferable, isn't he?" Athaulf murmured when they were alone. "Good thing I saved you from marrying him." He wound his arm around her waist, pulling her close.

She jerked her head away from his kiss in mock affront. "It seems I've chosen to marry someone equally insufferable."

"And you will have no escape from him." Athaulf captured her chin in his grip and planted a deep kiss on her lips. "You will spend the rest of your days being…how did Constantius put it? Defiled by a barbarian?" He chuckled.

Placidia joined his laughter. "I cannot wait," she whispered, and kissed him once more.