Constantius sat within the eastern roman royal palace. He gazed in awe at the opulent tapestries and the elegant trappings that littered the building. One thing was abundantly clear from the moment he stepped foot into the city of Constantinople: the eastern roman empire was significantly wealthier than the west.
Centuries of accumulation had made Constantinople the jewel of the east. Meanwhile, Rome had fallen in to decay, and the two other cities that had the honor of the being the capital of the west could not compare to the luxury that the east held within the palm of their hands.
The Byzantine regent was also the Sassanid emperor. He was a man by the name of Yazdegerd. He was as swarthy as Constantius had expected him to be. Hawkish features, brown eyes, sun-kissed skin, and an earthen mop atop his head. There was nothing distinctly Roman about the man.
