My phone kept buzzing on and off thanks to a barrage of messages from Cecilia.

Ever since I’d asked to meet up, she hasn't stopped going on and on about this new art gallery in Londinium Central. Apparently it's meant to be the hottest thing in art since before the conquest, whatever that actually means, I don't know as she has yet to explain it.

From what I can tell, she's been planning to visit this place for weeks now but hasn't been able to yet. So the moment I told her about my Kimina, the final decision about where to go was made.

Still, I wouldn't fault her on it. It was nice to see someone so passionate about something, even if I didn't understand it myself.

In case you're wondering about what I'm doing. Well, right now I'm running around trying to get dressed while answering her frantic text messages.

You see, I may have accidentally overslept. However, I'd rather call it catching up on sleep, but Cecilia doesn't seem to agree. Even when I point out it's only 11:30 AM and that we have plenty of time, her impatience still gets the better of her.

So that's what's currently happening. I'm trying to find suitable clothes, while she complains.

It didn't take long before I found something that'd be just the right amount of elegant to pass. Not exactly what I usually wear, but Londinium Central is barred to all except the wealthy, so going in anything other than what is considered to be the height of fashion was frowned upon and in some places, you'd be outright thrown out. And before you ask, yes the art galley was one of those places.

The style of dress I chose was an A-Line dress in white with gold stripes and matching high heels. I also threw on some accessories that didn't clash too much and then applied some make-up along with a bunch of other things that'd bore you half to death if I continued.

My eyes landed on my pistol and I debated for a second before deciding that yes, I did want to bring it. I then picked it up, made sure it was loaded and placed it in a holster that I attached to my thigh.

I only had one magazine loaded but that gave me 45 shots before I was out. If I needed more than that, then I'd have to get to my car where I kept a few backup magazines.

My personal shield was another item that I was bringing. However, I'd had that on me permanently ever since I discovered I could store it within the empty internal weapons slot in my left arm. It had to be activated manually by pressing a button, but it was better than getting shot.

It was doubtful that anything would happen in Londinium Central that would require a weapon or shield, but I had the credentials to be armed and I would be a fool not to use it. Well, I guess it's actually "Special Agent Adams'' who'll be armed, not me. But you get the picture.

A female servant knocked on my door to alert me to her presence before speaking.

"Lady Valentina, your vehicle has been prepared and is waiting for you at the entrance."

"Excellent, I'll be out there to collect it in a moment."

With that, I grabbed the rest of my things and ran down into my car.

I shot a text message to Cecilia telling her I was coming. Then started the car and drove onto the road.

Cecilia was still at the Academy in Londinium, so I'd be able to pick her up on the way to the art gallery.

Luckily, traffic was light nor did I get stopped at any checkpoints. But considering traffic was always light on the motorways, that shouldn't have come as a shock.

I pulled up to the Academy gates. A guard walked up to my car, gave it a once over with a scanner and waved me in.

It was a little funny that this was my first time entering the Academy that I was meant to join nearly a month ago; things never turn out the way we expect them to.

Cecilia was waiting outside the on-site residence. Upon seeing me pull up, she ran to the passenger side door and jumped into the seat.

She was practically hopping up and down in her seat in excitement as she began to speak faster than a racehorse.

"When did you get a car? Why can you drive? Is it meant to be this old?..." Her questions continued but my ears tuned them out.

"Yes, yes and yes. Does that answer your questions?"

She looked at me in confused silence before she finally realised I was teasing her.

"Funny joke, and no, it doesn't."

"Damn shame that, isn't it?"

"Seriously, where did you get the car?"

"Brought it off a homeless French man down an alley. He was doing a deal, buy two baguettes; get one car free."

"That was the most unfunny thing I've ever heard. It was worse than the jokes my dad makes, and you know how he can be."

"Ha, he's not that bad. I liked the joke about the painter."

"Humour really isn't your strong point. Anyway, tell me about the car."

"Meh, just an old classic I picked up a few days ago. She's kinda like a reward for the whole Crossdon incident."

I opted not to tell Cecilia the whole truth. She had no idea about my past links to the King's Guard and I wanted to keep it that way. It was safer for the both of us. Plus, she was always one to worry and knowledge of that would only make it worse.

"She? Oh my god, I can't believe you've gotten another woman on the side." She teased.

"Y'know, if you want, I can just leave you here and we cancel your little trip to Central." I joked in return.

"Alright, alright. Just drive you humourless jerk."

The drive to Londinium Central was far longer than it would take to go to any other place of the same distance. The roads were the most congested in the country, full of the wealthy and upper echelons of society, all trying to get into what was described as the most well-protected place on earth.

Checkpoints and scanners lined the roads. A military passage ran alongside the main road that had the occasional black armoured vehicle drive down it.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

My hand went down to the radio and switched it on. Fortunately, the technologies behind digital radio hadn't changed much in the last forty years, so the old radio still connected.

A male voice blared out from the speakers.

"Breaking news. The Imperium Romanum and the Rashidun Caliphate have declared war following rising tensions left over from the previous conflict in 2044."

A female voice continued.

"This marks the 12th war between the two powers since the dawn of the new millennium. Experts have stated that the relationship between these nations is only set to worsen and that no matter the outcome, more conflict will follow, continuing the trend of the battleground that is the Middle East that has presided since 629 AD."

The male voice jumped back in.

"These wars, commonly referred to as the Eastern Perpetual Wars, have been on and off since 629AD. And have only increased in frequency since the loss of the 2nd Reconquest War, which caused immense damage to the Imperial Federation military image and has destroyed its ability and willingness to commit troops to foreign peacekeeping operations."

"I'm your host, Julian Kohdor."

"And I'm Eleanor Tanna."

"And this has been Radio Dash News. Tune in again, tonight at Six to receive the latest updates from around the world." They both said in sync.

I switched the radio channel to another that was playing modern music.

Cecilia looked uncomfortable. She was one of the people who hated hearing about the outside world, especially when it was always about war. Honestly, it was hard to say how much of what Radio Dash reported was true or just propaganda to show other nations in a bad light.

We continued on without a word between us.

The motorway was filled with high-end energy cars, which brought a lot of attention to my Kimina as passers-by stared on in both wonder and confusion, most never having seen a petroleum engine vehicle.

We were coming up to the final checkpoint that led into Londinium Central. It was oddly enough the least protected checkpoint on the route, mainly because no rebel trying to attack ever made it this far.

A guard in white armour guided us to a special gateway for military vehicles, which my Kimina was still classed as. This meant we could skip the tedious and lengthy waiting times that often involved searching and ID checks.

I was thankful the guard didn't say anything to me as I didn't want Cecilia to know this vehicle was technically military, as it'd only unnerve her.

In continuing the theme of not letting Cecilia know, I ignored the military parking area and instead went towards the civilian one. This drew some glares from the guards, but there wasn't any rule against it, so they let it go.

We parked up the midnight blue Kimina, got out and headed towards the art gallery, sharing some light chatter between us.

Londinium Central was the same as I remembered when I last visited five years ago. Towering buildings of glass and steel, drones buzzing overhead holding advertisements of all sorts, and the most unique thing; foreign shops filled with foreign brands.

You see, it's incredibly difficult to get goods into the country thanks to the fact that any and all ships were confiscated and scraped. The few that still operate today are all large shipping vessels run by government-owned companies.

Yet the hard part is actually finding countries that will accept our trade. So far only three countries are willing to defy the Imperial Federation and their trade embargo. The Confederacy of Germanna, a significant industrial power on the mainland of Europe and probably the closest thing we have to a genuine ally. The Eurasian Khanate, a massive country that spans from Eastern Europe to Asia and houses one of the largest deposits of natural resources, second only to the Imperial Federation. And finally, the Qing Dynasty, a vital agricultural powerhouse in Asia, acting as the breadbasket for most of the eastern world and our primary food provider for much of our population.

The resources they provide are the sole reason why these stores can be packed and resupplied with goods from foreign companies and manufacturers.

In return, these countries gain access to our extensive high-tech industries and the massive range of quality goods they can produce that can't be found or recreated anywhere else in the world. To put it simply, it's a win-win on both sides.

Cecilia tapped my arm, informing me that we were nearly at the art gallery.

"Oi! It's over there." She said as she took my hand and guided me the right way.

The art gallery was a mix of pristine white metal and glass. At its doorway, the words "Creative Hamlet Art Gallery" were written in black.

Cecilia led me through the doorway and into the entrance, where a woman was standing behind a desk. She walked up to her and began to speak.

"Hello, I'd like two tickets." Cecilia smiled and placed down her ID.

"Of course, ma'am, it will be but a moment." The woman replied.

The tickets to the Creative Hamlet were not paid with money, neither were most things within Central. As long as something was not kept, it could be bought with your ID. So movies, activities and many other similar things could be experienced without currency.

The woman finished processing Cecilia's ID and handed it back to her along with two tickets.

"Here you are ma'am. Have a pleasant day." She said with a practised smile.

"Thank you." Cecilia returned before turning to me and saying. "Come on, let's go inside."

Without waiting for a reply, she dragged me in, her excitement was too much even for me and I'd seen similar scenes from her all my life.

We ran into the main gallery and Cecilia stopped in her tracks, her mouth agape in some sort of mix of wonder and shock.

The room was filled with paintings, some depicted battles, others buildings. A few showed off lovers and the many recorded a variety of gatherings. Here and there you found an oddity, a picture of fruit, simple, yet filed beside a million masterpieces.

I almost wanted to laugh at the range of art from beautiful to outright strange. But who was I to judge what was and what wasn't art?

Cecilia composed herself quickly and within seconds, she was studying a painting of a nude man lying within a pool of helmets.

"He looks small." I commented.

"The painting portrays survivors' guilt, the helmets are a representation of the nude man's dead comrades. He lies there because he cannot let them go, his soul crying out, demanding to know why it was them and not him." She corrected, her tone a little annoyed at my childish comment.

"How do you know all that?"

"I read it in a book. The painting is called "Solitaria," it was the first piece by the famous Roman artist Valuion Canusla in the year 1745, shortly after he returned from a campaign in what we now know as the Perpetual Wars."

"Why am I here again?" I joked, referring to her already extensive knowledge.

"Something experienced without others; isn't experienced at all."

"When did you become so wise?"

She smiled at me.

"Did you only just notice?"

"Eh, I've had my suspicions for a while now." I teased.

Cecilia was about to reply when her eyes landed on another painting. She shouted out in surprise and ran towards it.

The painting she ran towards was of a massive ship that seemed to be cut in two, doubled and put back together again. The picture was clearly a mix of non-realism and realism, and combined with the blurred style it used; it formed a strange picture that you couldn't take your eyes off.

"Oh my! This is a genuine Henri Picique, who was born in 1856 during the height of the Expansion era."

"Henri Picique?"

"A Frankish painter who redesigned art and formed the Art-Picou style that became widely used throughout his era. But I don't recognise this one from any of my books..."

A male voice cut in.

"This piece is "Le Régime; Divided." The ship symbolises the government during the Expansion era. The way it has been ripped apart, doubled and then put back together is meant to show how poorly the government managed its newly gained territories in the new world and the stark divide that formed between them and their citizens both home and abroad. Eventually, this division led to a revolution that remodelled the Kingdom of Francia into the country we know today, a nation that grants citizenship and equal rights to all peoples under its banner."

"Wait seriously? This is "Le Régime; Divided", one of the legendary lost classics? But from what I've researched, it went missing in 1918 and hasn't been found? How did it turn up here?"

The man laughed, clearly impressed with Cecilia’s knowledge and then began to explain.

"Ah, I see I've found a fellow lover of the arts. Now, I wouldn't usually do this, but I guess I can drop a little secret for a lovely flower such as yourself."

I saw the small traces of a blush form on Cecilia's face from that compliment. If the man saw it, he didn't show it as he continued with his tale.

"The "Le Régime; Divided" was found relatively recently, in fact, it was only two years ago if I remember correctly. A team discovered a shipwreck in the North Sea and upon searching, the painting was recovered. It was in surprisingly good condition for over one hundred years in seawater and it only took us a few months to fully restore it. Now it's here permanently, and it'll stay no matter how much the Franks complain."

"Wow, that's amazing. Are they any other pieces like it here?"

"Many, and I'd be happy to show you around. But first, your name, please?"

"Oh, sorry. I'm Cecilia Hadriana and this is Valentina Octavia."

"Hello." I chimed in before the man could reply.

"Cecilia Hadriana, what a beautiful name, fitting for such an elegant lady. I'm Samael Ashdown. It is a pleasure to meet you."

Samael was tall, he seemed to be about 6'4ft. His face was attractive, and he had light blonde hair with a pretty boy look to him. The only thing that was concerning was that he looked to be in his early twenties, he may have just looked older than he actually was, which was something I definitely could relate to.

"Likewise. I do believe you offered to show me around?" Cecilia teasingly asked.

"Haha, that I did. Come with me, this here is a..."

The rest of the day continued like this, Samael would point out a painting and explain it to Cecilia, who listened attentively. Honestly, as the day dragged on, it felt like I'd become a third wheel to their date, even though today was meant to be our day out.

Whatever, there was no use dwelling on it. As long as Cecilia was happy, so was I. And it did appear as if she greatly enjoyed today's outing.

The two of them exchanged contact information and we were on our way.

The drive back to the Academy was done in complete silence other than the radio and the occasional text message beep that rang out from the two love birds.

As we pulled into the Academy and stopped outside our on-site residence, I turned to her and asked.

"So... Mister Ashdown? Had no idea you were into pretty boys." I teased.

Cecilia's face went red at that, she quickly tried to defend herself, but it only made her look more guilty.

"I'm not into pretty boys. I just like talking to someone who has the same hobbies as me."

"Ahhhh, that's how it always starts. Next, you'll like talking to him because his surname has a nice ring to it."

"Shut up." She laughed. "You know it's not like that."

"Oh I must not know anything then, because from what I saw... it definitely is."

"Well, what about you? Aren't you usually the one battering boys off you left and right? Why haven't you made a choice yet?"

"No comment, next question please." I shot back, mocking the government officials who always did the same.

"Ok, ok. I have to go, but I'll be getting my answer next time. Alright?"

"Maybe. That's all you're getting. Now run along Mrs Ashdown."

As she was exiting the car, she whispered back with a smile.

"Hush, I don't want to hear it."

Cecilia ran to the door, gave me a wave and then disappeared inside it.

I reversed the car and began driving back to my manor in Camulodunum, her final question still on my mind.

How could I tell her that I had no time for love, that it seemed so unimportant in the grand scheme of things. Falling in love would only increase the people I care for by one, and I was already struggling to protect the current ones. Could I even manage another?