He was in some kind of stone mansion. He didn't recognize it, but he felt as if he saw something very similar before. But this mansion was completely empty. Without any furniture or servant in sight. Despite that though, it was cleaned and obviously taken care of. And, for some reason, Yazdegerd wasn't afraid. He knew well that being in an unknown environment should invoke fear, but he felt everything but fear. As he walked down the unknown corridors, he realized something. He realized that he knew this mansion – this palace. It was his own palace, in Istakhr, where he was held imprisoned and where he began his rule.
As he glossed over his past during the walk, he stumbled upon the stairs leading to the subterrain part of the palace – the part where the palace prison was situated in. He remembered the struggles he faced during his imprisonment. But now that he thinks about it, perhaps he viewed it differently as a child, and it would be much less bearable now than it was at the time. The cell he was held in was actually quite nice. It wasn't for common rubble and ruffians, those were in the city jail. The cells in the palace were meant for political prisoners. They had comfortable beds, access to toilet and bath and three good meals a day.
When he reached the cells, they were all closed and locked. Apart from one cell. One singular cell was open, instead of being closed. And Yazdegerd realised it was the very cell he was held in. Sweat rushed from him, but he didn't know why. He felt fear and anxiousness, but he didn't know from what. He looked around him frantically until nausea kicked in and he felt himself collapsing.
He woke up, sweating and breathing frantically. It was early in the morning, perhaps six or seven. He could hear faint footsteps as the palace servants attended their early duties. He could also hear some kind of metal-like sounds very close. Most likely his pushtigban, struggling to stay awake. He looked out of the window. The sun was just rising, the reddish shine enveloping him and the whole palace. The clouds turned red from the sunrays and the sky looked both menacing and beautiful at the same time. Some cultures and religions considered this to be a bad omen, while some considered it a good omen. And Yazdegerd? He couldn't care less at the moment, thinking about the weird dream he had. Why was he there, back in Istakhr? And what was it supposed to mean, that only his cell was open while the others were closed? He didn't know. He couldn't know. And he realized it doesn't matter. He had a big day in front of him, a big event to take care of, something that would shape his life, his whole world for decades to come. He didn't have time nor energy to think about some weird dream he had.
As he made up his mind about what truly matters and was back on the right track, he decided to go outside. When they arrived, he saw a huge garden enveloping the palace, and he wanted to properly explore it while he had the chance. Each and every palace garden was different. He knew that very well and that is one of the reasons he wanted to take a look at it – simple curiosity. The other one was, well, that he simply wanted to go somewhere where he could relax, take a breath of fresh air and think about things properly.
It was decided. He put on his other robe, less formal and less lavish. It was something any noble would wear. The other robe he had was the formal one, the one in which he arrived and the one in which he would attend the meeting. He scratched his stubble that was starting to grow nicely thanks to some ointments he used daily. He went outside of his room, which startled the guards, as they didn't expect him to be awake so early. He told them they can be at ease and that they can return to their room. Both of them insisted that at least one should go with him, but he told them off. And what can they do against the word of their liege?
He left the palace through some side entrance to which he asked directions from servants. Their Pontic accent was still strange to grasp for Yazdegerd, but he could communicate with them well enough. Through the side entrance he ended up being instantly in the garden. It seems the servants that he asked didn't tell him to go through here just for the sake of it. The garden was beautiful, with all sorts and manners of exotic flowers, trees and bushes. Of course, next to them were the common plants, such as roses or orchids. He was especially charmed by the fountain enveloped by a huge flower field he saw in the back of the garden.
As he made his way there, he noticed the serene atmosphere the whole garden had. There was no life – other than the plants, of course. He could hear some birds chirping and some cicadas that were especially obnoxious, but other than that – nothing. No humans, mainly. He found this strange, but not enough to think about it for too long. As he reached the fountain, he realized it was truly beautiful. Made of polished marble, at the centre stood a statue of two-headed eagle, an emblem of the Byzantine Empire. The claws and the beak were made of gold, or at least covered with it, which made the statue seem more majestic. As he observed the fountain and absorbed the atmosphere, his mind started to calm down. He suddenly felt more relaxed and much more at ease. The coming responsibilities as if weren't there. As if he didn't have any important meetings, no responsibilities and no things he needed to take care of. Nothing. Just him, the bustling sound of water, smell fresh morning air and sounds of cicadas and birds chirping.
Suddenly, he heard footsteps. He turned around, still relaxed and at ease. He recognized the man. Bonus was his name, if he remembered correctly. He simply looked at him, until he came closer.
"Beautiful garden, isn't it? I see you already uncovered its true charms, my excellency."
"That's right, Bonus. When I arrived yesterday, I was already curious to see this garden for myself. It didn't let me down, that's for sure."
"No offense, my excellency, but I wouldn't expect you to be awake so early. It has surprised me."
"I wouldn't normally be. It's just that all the things happening around me, all these responsibilities, everything has piled on me so much that I needed to clear my mind somewhere. I thought the garden should serve well for this purpose – and it did."
"I understand you. Each time I visit this magnificent palace, I always go here at least once per visit, if not more. This kind of serene atmosphere is very rare. Not every palace garden has it."
"I agree, but I'd say the palace garden back in Istakhr was very similar, albeit perhaps smaller. But I wasn't there for several years now, so perhaps my memory doesn't serve me well."
Bonus smiled. "Are you prepared for today, your excellency?"
This question caught Yazdegerd by surprise. He felt a bit embarrassed. "I believe I am. As in, I know my goal and purpose. I know what I have to do and mainly what I want to do."
Bonus looked Yazdegerd straight in the eyes. "I am not sure what kind of banter did you have yesterday with my Basileus, but knowing him, he probably told you about her highness' feelings, and how she is strictly against marriage. Am I right?"
Yazdegerd simply nodded.
"Well then, I wanted to tell you that she may look forward to the meeting much more than she lets others see. By a large margin. I hope it puts you at ease at least a bit."
Yazdegerd was stunned by Bonus' words and simply stared at him.
"Well, I now have to take my leave. Take care, your excellency. Meeting will begin in several hours, around twelve. Be sure to be ready. Farewell, for now."
With those words, Bonus simply left Yazdegerd in the gardens with lots to think about.
--
After remaining in the gardens for another half an hour or so, he returned to his room, where Rostam was already waiting for him. He told him that palace servants have prepared a bath for him, and that he should go. For some reason, Yazdegerd was really looking forward to the bath. Perhaps he wanted another kind of relaxation as well. And so right as he arrived, he also left. He was there for an hour at least. He most likely fell asleep in there, but after the hour or so he got out and returned, reinvigorated and ready. He felt as if he weighted nothing. As if he suddenly became light as a feather. He was ready and prepared for everything today would throw at him.
It was around eleven hours in the morning. The meeting was supposed to begin in a short while. Yazdegerd was inside of his room, waiting until Bonus and Rostam come and pick him. He wore his finest royal tunic with intricate embroidery made from silk. On the tunic he had a long robe, on which was embroidered Derafsh Kaviani, a symbol of Sassanid Empire. On his neck he had a necklace with a beautiful ruby along with some smaller sapphires and emeralds – all from Badakshan, mined and manufactured in the Empire. On his head he had his formal crown, simply to show off his authority as a foreign ruler.
He walked from one corner of the room to another, clearly nervous. Not even morning walk and bath didn't help in the end. Or perhaps they did, and it would've been much worse if it wasn't for the relaxation he did prior. After a while, he heard a knock to his room. It was exactly who he expected – Rostam and Bonus, both already clothed amply for the occasion. Rostam also wore an embroidered tunic with a robe – albeit slightly shorter than what Yazdegerd had – to show his loyalty and subordination. Bonus wore some typical Greek robe, not decorated much, only its hems had golden threads embroidered into them.
They walked through the hallways into the ceremonial hall – which was supposedly the biggest hall in the palace. Huge doors fit for the ceremonial purposes of the hall were opened before them. Yazdegerd found himself much more and more sweating. He was extremely nervous all of a sudden. He took deep breaths as he tried to calm down. He peeked into the huge hall, and saw many people inside. Most of them were servants, but could swear that there were also some curious couriers that sneaked inside, wanting to see what's going on. He also saw someone very familiar. Someone he saw few years back. It was Jabalah ibn Al-Aiham, the one who visited him when he was still in Istakhr and brought him this proposition. It felt like an eternity already. So much has happened since then.
Heraclius noticed him before Yazdegerd could see the one person he was truly looking for. Rostam patted his shoulder which made him snap back into reality. He could see Heraclius saying something to the man next to him. A herald, most likely, thought Yazdegerd. An echoing, sharp and loud voice proved him right, as the herald blew his trumpet and announced their arrival. Yazdegerd looked around only to see that Bonus has somehow evaporated.
"Please, welcome, his excellency Yazdegerd III., Basileus of all Iranians, Persian Shahanshah. And with him, Rostam Farrokhzad, Persian magister militum!"
Yazdegerd felt strangely embarrassed. This was the first time he did any of this and it felt so weird and so strange. He walked forward to greet Heraclius and Jabalah, and then promptly wait for the one person he wanted to meet.
"Your excellency, welcome. I hope you are enjoying your stay so far." Spoke Jabalah with a smile. It seems he was also happy to see the young ruler after such a long time. "You have grown up to be a respectable young man. I am happy to see that."
"King Jabalah, my honor. Why, are you implying that I wasn't a respectable boy when we met?" Asked Yazdegerd with a taste of irony.
"If you ask me now, I have to say I was impressed with your Greek at the time. I see you grasped the opportunity and improved even more."
"Well, I say that's only polite, considering the status of our nations." Answered Yazdegerd with a carefree expression.
"Are you saying I am not polite, Yazdegerd? Maybe I should show my impoliteness more and pour you sour wine and oversalted meat, what do you say?" Said Heraclius as he squeezed himself into the conversation. Yazdegerd and Jabalah both laughed.
"Oh, but Yazdegerd, don't worry. Princess speaks both Greek and Persian very well, or so I've heard." Said Jabalah, and Heraclius agreed. "Aye, I had her take lessons on Persian language every day since the agreement."
"So over six years, huh…" Said Yazdegerd, bit lost in thought.
"It's a bit early to be so lost in your own imagination. You've yet to see her, young man." Said Heraclius, now with a comforting smile. "She'll be here in a while. You will sit together at the head of the table. This meeting will serve as a formal and public proclamation of the engagement. That's why all those people are here – because of what use are public proclamations when there's no public to see them. But don't worry, these are all people I trust. Just relax, drink some wine if it helps you and be yourself."
It was almost unbelievable how quickly could Heraclius transform both his speech, but also his mindset. Just a second ago he was all fun and games, joking and laughing, but all of a sudden he started being serious and ushered some good advice to Yazdegerd, who simply stood there, stunned. He looked at the table. And indeed, at the head of the table stood two particular chairs, seemingly different from the others. They had their handrails and backrest gilded and padded. For some reason though, there was no surge of nervosity or anxiousness, only of pure anticipation.
He returned to Rostam, deciding to simply enjoy the occasion while he could. Because he knew that his heart wouldn't let him later.
--
The loud shouting of court herald startled him. His crown jumped in his head as he did. He looked around to see Heraclius looking at him, gesturing for him to come there. And so, Yazdegerd stood up and left the table to go see Heraclius. The herald kept shouting something incoherent to Yazdegerd. Must've been that weird accent. But then, the herald began to speak coherently and crisply.
"Please welcome, her highness of the Roman Empire, daughter of our Basileus, Princess Roxane!"
The doors started to open. Heraclius patted Yazdegerd on his shoulder and said "Here you have her. Good luck."
Yazdegerd's heart started to race. His palms were sweaty all of a sudden and he felt like he would keel over. But the sudden surge of emotions were quickly over him, and once the doors fully opened, only a handsome young gentleman stood there. First entered guards, who stared menacingly from under their helmets. Yazdegerds guards that were also present in the room also stood alerted. But Yazdegerd was interested in the person who walked in after the guards. He saw a white-clothed silhouette emerging from behind the guards. Her long, chestnut hair shone through the veil she had on her head. She had beautiful emerald eyes, prettier than any gemstone. Her petite figure could be seen even through her dress. Yazdegerd heard many times that he would be charmed by her appearance, but he didn't understood how much. Now everything was clear. It was as if a whole new world appeared in front of him. A world he didn't yet understand, but wanted to at all costs.
She walked gracefully towards him and Heraclius, dragging her gown behind her. On her head sat a tiara inlaid with gemstones of all kinds.
He straightened his back and stood tall, looking straight in her eyes, smiling. As she closed in, he knelt in front of her, taking her hand and kissing it.
"Welcome, your highness. I am Yazdegerd III., Basileus of all Iranians, Shahanshah of Persia. I am pleased to finally meet you."
The height difference was quite obvious. One could say it is due to the age difference – after all, Yazdegerd was about two and a half years older, but for the matter, he was also taller than your average twelve year old. Heraclius was only head taller and Bonus was only slightly taller. Can't compare with Rostam, who was also incredibly tall. But Yazdegerd noticed, as he stood up, that she barely reached to his neck, so he had to lean forward just to look at her. But he didn't mind.
"Thank you, your excellency. I too am happy to meet you."
Yazdegerd smiled at her, all tension disappearing from his body. Heraclius, who stood beside them the whole time chuckled and invited them to the table. And so, the meeting began.