Chapter Four: Omaha

Aeneas had been looking at the crowd inside Castle Aquila from afar for quite some time. After saying goodbye to Giulia, Aeneas was content to watch the people interact with one another. He enjoyed watching people interact with one another while simply remaining on the side. One can learn so much by simply watching.

The young Inquisitor’s eyes are turned towards two people. The first was a statuesque woman with a long golden blonde hair. She carried herself as if she was the Queen of the Earth. The second was a man somewhat shorter than her. The man had hair like a lion and a beard like that of an Eastern Rite priest, perhaps a little thicker. Despite his robust stature, his greying hair and beard showed his advancing age.

Aeneas recognized the girl, she was Omaha, the Princess of Texarkana. The eldest daughter, and eldest legitimate child of the reigning Emperor of Texarkana. But the man she was talking to, his identity was unknown for the moment.

As Aeneas watched on, he saw the two of them parting ways. The man had gone away but the woman was approaching Aeneas. Seeing this, Aeneas tensed his once relaxed posture. As she was getting closer close to him, he knelt before her.

“My lady,” Aeneas said. He couldn’t afford to disrespect the Princess of Texarkana.

But Omaha chuckled and waved her hand at the young Inquisitor.

“At ease, Sir Inquisitor.”

Aeneas stood up, putting the two at equal height. Though the young Inquisitor was naturally taller by one Imperial inch, the princess’ footwear made up for that deficit.

“What is it you want of me, Your Highness?”

Once again, Omaha was unimpressed with Aeneas’ show of respect. “You can dispense with the formalities, Sir Inquisitor. This is the 74th century, the Age of the Holy Empire is long gone.”

“No, my lady,” Aeneas said flatly. “The Holy Empire remains, even if none acknowledge her as such.”

The Princess of Texarkana giggled as she heard this. “I’m glad we get to talk more. I had pegged you to be a fellow traveler. I am not disappointed.”

“I don’t think so,” Aeneas said, waving his hands in an attempt to emphasize his point. “I recall that you believe in the military conquests of the other factions.”

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“Yes, if we have the military capability to succeed,” Omaha answered nonchalantly.

“What if the Church gets in the way?” Aeneas asked. “What if you have to invade the Papal States to bring about your Imperial supremacy? Will you do what you believe to be necessary?”

Omaha was about to answer but was surprised when she saw Aeneas’ hand over her mouth.

“Don’t answer that question,” Aeneas warned sternly. “Not in front of an Inquisitor.”

As Aeneas took his palm away from Omaha, the princess glared at the young Inquisitor. Despite her earlier attempts at informality, she was indignant that her interlocutor had dared to touch her, especially a part of her face.

“You’re not as smart as you think you are, Princess,” Aeneas stated coolly.

“No,” Omaha conceded. “But I have ambition.”

Aeneas raised his eyes curiously in response to his interlocutor’s claim.

“Join me, Sir Inquisitor,” Omaha declared. “With your cunning and my ambition, we can restore the Age of the Holy Empire. Our dynasty will be unstoppable.”

But Aeneas was unimpressed by the princess’ bluster. “Why should I?”

“A lot of things, of course,” Omaha answered. “It just makes sense: Church and State, Pope and Emperor. Then there’s the history. During the Vampiric Revolutions of 7001, our ancestors teamed joined forces to save the Holy League. And of course…”

“…Alright, I get your point.” Aeneas held up his hands to acknowledge his interlocutor’s argument.

In fact, Aeneas understood Omaha’s point perfectly well. But there was something that he needed to know.

“And what of His Majesty the Emperor?”

Omaha sighed when she heard of it. “Papa doesn’t understand. He wants me to wed Santa Claus.”

“Who’s Santa Claus?”

“Umm, Tsar Nikolai,” Omaha clarified. “The man I talked to earlier.”

“Ah,” Aeneas said in understanding as he finally discovered the missing identity of the earlier man. “What’s wrong with him? He’s the Tsar of Slavia and a veteran of many wars. He seems to be your type.”

Omaha looked at Aeneas like he was crazy. “He’s old, Sir Inquisitor! Old enough to be my father!”

“But you’re acting like it’s some grievous sin to marry someone much older than you are,” Aeneas said. “But that’s not true in the slightest. You know your history, Your Highness.”

“Are you trying to be rid of me, Sir Inquisitor?” Omaha asked accusingly.

Aeneas was taken aback by the sudden question from the Princess of Texarkana. But he recovered quickly.

“No, not at all,” Aeneas clarified. “I just want what’s best for you, Your Highness.”

The eyes of the princess narrowed in suspicion. “Of course you do,” she said sarcastically. “Who is it?”

“What?”

“Your beloved. Is she the fish girl from Pacifica? The sour-faced Venetian? Someone else perhaps?”

Omaha asked these questions rather quickly that Aeneas had to mentally step back and process them.

“I, I don’t have one,” Aeneas confessed.

The Princess of Texarkana smirked confidently, as if she had gotten what she came for. She took a few steps away, ready to leave. But instead, she turned to face Aeneas, and reached out her hand to him.

“I promise you this, Sir Inquisitor. I will make Texarkana great again.”

Aeneas said nothing as he took Princess Omaha’s hand and kissed it.