The Emperor felt his nose swell, held his hand over his arms above his upper lip, and saw that his fingers were painted red. Here again. All because he was worried, angry, he was bleeding again. When he subdued the rebellious Jews, shed rivers of their blood, he felt good, not a single bleed, not a single seizure. It was as if the gods, always hungry for sacrifice, needed any blood, and instead of his own, he gave them someone else's.

Now, after returning to Athens, his wife's letter was found, and everything turned out to be different. Taking a handkerchief and putting it to his nose, Hadrian lay down on the bed, threw his head.

He suddenly remembered Ceionius Commodus. Cheerful, executive, brave young man, though weak in intellect. How quickly and deftly he dealt with the snake, there, in the cave under Betar! And he was not afraid of this Jewish god with a funny name, not in the example of the former viceroy Tineius Rufus, who was shaking with fear. Among other things, Ceionius did not have such ambitions, burning the soul, as Fuscus, which was an undoubted plus. He would be quite a harmless ruler, which the Senate would undoubtedly like.

As for Marcus, Marcus Verissimus…

The emperor pondered. He would bide his time, because he had high hopes and, if the stars unfolded in the sky favorably, he would still be waiting for the purple cloak of the princeps. If not, he would become a good assistant to Ceionius Commodus, and then to his young son Lucius.

After reading the letter, Hadrian instructed the secretary Heliodorus to summon Ceionius from Rome.

“My dear Ceionius,” he said, approaching the guest, “I have decided to appoint you as consul for the following year, along with Sexton Vettulenus.”

“I am grateful, great Caesar,” said Ceionius in surprise, who did not expect Hadrian to extend his favor to him. The emperor, like every ruler, had long formed a circle of close people, favorites, who received unlimited favors. Getting into their number seemed impossible, especially for young Nobilis. It was only to wait patiently for the hour when the empire would be led by their peers and attract peers to rule the great country.

“But why do I deserve such mercy?” he asked.

“I come from the public interest and believe that you are worthy of the consular rank. You performed well in Judea. Also, the best opinion of you is prefect Regin and many senators. And this is only the first step.”

“What's the second one consul?”

“You'll know everything, Ceionius, when the time comes. But I have one condition. I want your daughter Fabia to be engaged to Marcus Verus. He has a great inheritance from Annius, from his father and great-grandfather, and it will be a good marriage. Let your two glorious families be born, so that the glory of Rome will not fade with our death. We're all mortal, aren't we?”

He looked into the cheerful, expressionless eyes of Ceionius and thought that he had made a good choice. The Commodus would be the façade of the upcoming reign, festive, brilliant, admirable, and Marcus would be the real ruler behind him.

A few months after the beginning of the consulate of Ceionius Commodus, when spring was already well, and the bright sun warmed the Italian land not yet hot, but palpable warmth, Rome, after a cold and windy winter, started living a normal life. Festivities flowed endlessly dedicated to the gods, a variety of games and festivals. Huge population of the city- nobility, freedmen, slaves, all indulged in unrestrained entertainment, which abundantly regaled eternal Rome.