The Purple Shroud: A Novel of Empress Theodora Read Free Page A

couple, Theodora whispered, ‘Head up, shoulders back, look straight ahead, north to the horse statues, back to the obelisk, then south.’
    Justinian nodded. ‘Acknowledging the highest benches as well as the senators and the wealthy in the front, yes I know.’
    ‘It’s the people we need on our side, as much as the rich.’
    ‘I agree, but perhaps you don’t need to remind me every time?’
    ‘It’s my job, to remind you of the people.’
    ‘It’s your job to be my wife.’
    Theodora gave a little curtsy. ‘That too.’
    Then they walked out into the light, and a full Hippodrome crowd saw the Empress arrive a half-step behindher husband, her head bowed as Justinian acknowledged his people – he the country boy made good, she the infamous ex-dancer, ex-actress, ex-whore, now loyal, royal Augusta.
    Thirty thousand spectators, and almost as many opinions about the August and his wife. Over two years since they came to the throne, almost four years since the law had been changed permitting Theodora-from-the-Brothel to marry Justinian and become Empress of Rome, the citizens of Constantinople and beyond were still divided as to whether their double act was a good thing or not. For now the division was in the new leaders’ favour, but there was no guarantee it would stay that way. The Imperial couple worked daily at making their presence felt, and harder at making that presence welcome.
    The Empress stood beside her husband in the Kathisma, the strength of two as one, the many as one, a symbol of the new Rome. The people cheered and Theodora waved back, feeling the rush of their approval, enjoying it as much as she ever had as an actress. Enjoying it more now because, in her plans for the City and for those closest to her, she finally had some measure of control. Her sister Comito was well married to Sittas, one of Justinian’s favourite generals, and the sisters would soon begin considering husbands for their daughters Ana and Indaro. There were staff to command, her entourage to organise, extended family on both sides to care for, and always, primarily, Justinian to counsel and support.
    Back in her rooms, the Empress’s staff helped her remove the ceremonial robes. She’d quickly learned that while her preference was to wrench off the chlamys the moment the Kathisma doors were closed on the Hippodrome crowd, disregard for the symbols of state did not go down well in thePalace. Many of the staff had been raised in the court, most knew far more about protocol than she did, and they all had an immense respect for the purple, if not always for the person wearing it. Emperors might come and go, and with them their political and religious appointees, but those who actually kept the Palace running, turning the cogs of state, usually remained in place. Theodora needed them on her side. The gossip that linked one set of Palace rooms to another also spread well into the City and beyond. Now that she could not charm her audience with a sly smile or a quick wink, the exactress had to win her applause by proxy, letting the rumour of her brilliance within the Palace bring the people to her, not as theatrical star, but as worthy Augusta. She had been subject to the whims of the powerful all too often in her youth; now she preferred her staff to enjoy working for her because they liked and respected her, not because it was their job to do so. If she must pretend to love the heavy Imperial chlamys and venerate the purple in order to gain that affection, then Theodora would do so.
    Free of the cumbersome symbols of state, she began the rest of her day’s work, accepting the civil and Palace petitions brought to her by Armeneus, the eunuch who was lover to Narses, her husband’s Chief of Staff. Armeneus had worked for Theodora years before when she had lived in the Pentapolis in North Africa, had known her both destitute and riding the waves of success: now he was her assistant in all the business associated with her role, just