I really wanted to write a piece on Roman wedding traditions, since I sort of skipped over the actual ceremony in the Rome x Sabine chapter (I just love wedding traditions, okay). Everything you see is a real part of Roman wedding traditions (with the exception of some lines of dialogue which I came up with to help illustrate what's going on; but anything in Latin is real).

Plus, this chapter is intended to give an explanation on why Romano and Veneziano are Rome's grandchildren rather than just his children.

Warnings: Divorce and some prejudicial views consistent with Roman culture. Some animal sacrifice is also depicted. Also, Rome is a bit of an insensitive man-whore (hey, it's canon, don't blame me).

Flammeum

In all honesty, Rome never thought he'd live to see his son married. Let alone married for a second time.

Ramnes, the first tribe of Rome, now served to represent the whole western half of the Roman Empire. As such, the boy more than deserved to marry a woman he actually got along with rather than the huffy southern province he'd been stuck with for over a century. Or was it two centuries? Yes, definitely no less than two and no more than three. He remembered that he'd basically given Magna Graecia over to his son as a gift following the downfall of Carthage. Magna Graecia hadn't been too pleased when Rome ransacked her city of Syracuse and killed her beloved scientist Archimedes while the old Greek man was working on a mathematical equation, but she brought it on herself by siding with Hannibal and the Carthaginians.

She hadn't been the most agreeable daughter-in-law since then and, frankly, Rome was actually quite happy his son had divorced her to marry a sweet, obedient woman like Venetia. In truth, Rome figured that the only reason Ramnes hadn't divorced Magna Graecia after her little Sicilian Revolt was because of Rome's indiscretions with Egypt causing a massive civil war – something which Sabine was still angry at him about over a year later. At least Rome's family got to keep custody of the children, not that Magna Graecia would have won if the whole dispute went to the courts, all things considered.

"Ave, my good man," Rome called out as he approached the priest he had hired to read the morning omens for the wedding. "What do the gods say about my son's new wife?"

"The signs are very fortuitous," the priest replied, pausing to duck out of the way as some slaves passed by carrying a table. In the background, one could also hear other slaves and servants loudly continuing the preparations for the ceremony, decorating the atrium with flowers, tree boughs, garlands, banners, and tapestries. "Young Lucius should expect a very happy union."

"Romanillus," Rome corrected.

"I'm sorry?"

"My son prefers to go by his nickname of 'Romanillus.' Do make sure to address him properly when you speak to him."

"Of course," the priest replied with a bow. "And the young lady, does she have a preference for her name?"

"We call her 'Rufina,' because of her red hair, but she likely won't mind if you call her 'Adriana.' Or even 'Valeria.' She is proud of all of them."

"I see. Is not your family's own name 'Valerius'?"

"It is. Rufina is an orphan from the Veneti people. She did not have a family name of her own, so I granted her use of mine. I mean, it's not like it's a big deal. The Veneti are descendants of Troy like all the rest of us, after all."

"Indeed. And a woman of such heritage makes for a better match than some Greek."

"Oh, my previous daughter-in-law was even worse."

"How so?"

"She was a mixed Greek and Carthaginian."

The priest made a disgusted face. Even after all these years, Rome's people still cursed vile Carthage and all his family.

"A Carthaginian? And you let her marry your son? I hope you do not intend to name any children of hers as your heirs."

"They are still my grandchildren," Rome said with a shrug. "No matter who their mother is."

Rome meant what he said. He did love his grandchildren regardless of who their mother was. Sicily was such a curious and adventurous little girl. Little Sardinia was keenly intelligent and charming for so young a child. The eldest boy was very stuffy and serious, especially considering it was determined he only represented a swampy little stretch of marsh called 'Vatican Hill' – Rome doubted the child would amount to much, but he would ensure Vaticanus was well-educated and looked after, regardless of his prospects. It was the youngest child that Rome was most interested in, though – Romanus Neapolitus, given the human name of "Lavinius Valerius," who represented the powerful city of Neapolis in the south. The little boy, who looked the most like Rome out of all the grandchildren (though there were definitely traces of Sabine in him), was a fiery and hot-tempered infant who would punch and kick and scream constantly – in short, a perfect future leader among prospective Italian regions and city-states.

"So," Rome continued. "Did the gods have any further messages for me in the animal entrails?"

"They did, as it happens," the priest replied. "The state of the liver in the sheep and the amount of blood it produced on removal suggests you are to have a great deal more grandchildren in the future, and possibly some additional children of your own."

"That is good news. I do adore having little ones running around the palace. It gets so gloomy if there aren't enough people here."

As much as he loved his eldest son, Rome missed his younger children. He and Sabine had produced three tribes: Ramnes (name for Romulus), Tities (named for the Sabine king Titus Tatius), and Luceres (whose name Rome didn't really know the origin of, though he was fairly sure it was Etruscan). Ramnes might still be around, but Tities had vanished and Luceres had decided to become a Vestal Virgin so she wasn't at home all that much these days.

Then there were the other children. After Rome had conquered Greece, he took the nation, herself, as a war prize (like how he'd given Magna Graecia to his son, only without the whole marriage thing to make it more respectable). It was a very awkward situation, especially when Greece gave birth to twins, a boy and a girl, Byzantium and Ravenna. Sabine couldn't stand the sight of Greece after that (especially when Rome recognized the children as his legally), so Rome took the children into his home and set up a private residence for Greece…far, far away from Rome and his angry wife. He still tried to visit when he could so that Byzantium and Ravenna could see their mother, but Greece recently made it clear after Ramnes's divorce of Magna Graecia that Rome was not welcome there for the foreseeable future.

Honestly, women could be so tetchy, sometimes.

"Well, everything seems to be in order," Rome said.

"Would you like me to stay and oversee the ceremony?" the priest asked, hopeful for another professional opportunity and the pay that came with it.

"You may stay for the proceedings, if you desire, but the Pontifex Maximus should be arriving soon to witness the necessary elements."

"The Pontifex Maximus?" the priest stammered in incredulity. "The honorable Augustus is coming here?"

"Of course he is. Augustus is a friend of my son."

Rome very carefully avoided mentioning his own rather shaky relationship with the emperor. Things were still somewhat rocky between them and Rome was still forbidden from seeing Egypt for the next few decades…though the chewing out he'd gotten from Augustus wasn't half as bad as the one he got from Sabine.

"I'm so nervous," Venetia said as Noricum helped adjust the crown of flowers over her veil.

"I don't see why," Noricum said, pausing to blow a loose strand of dark hair out of her face. She was one of Rome's client kingdoms in the north and a neighbor of Venetia's. "It is only Ramnes. You two have been close for decades now."

"As friends, perhaps. And, for so long, I thought he would only look at me as if I were his father's ward and not someone worthy of his attention and affection."

"He would have to be blind and foolish, then," said Histria, Venetia's sister. She was a tall, fair-haired beauty with captivating dark brown eyes – Venetia had often envied her sister's natural graces and charming personality. "Dear little Rufina, he has obviously been in love with you for ages."

"And I have been in love with him since he first came to our home and told us that Greece would never hurt us again. That no one would ever hurt us again."

Venetia still remembered what it had been like. She and her sister had been just a couple of wild tribes on the Adriatic Sea, abandoned by their father Liburnia when he went to war against Dalmatia. They were a strange mix of Illyrian and Celtic, raised as seafarers and horse-breeders rather than farmers, who stood out very awkwardly next to the rest of the Italian peoples and who didn't get on well with the other Celtic and Illyrian tribes. Greece thought the Veneti and Histri tribes would be easy to conquer and colonize, so she sent Sparta to try and beat them into submission – only for Venetia to kick Sparta's ass and send the jerk crawling home in disgrace because Sparta was stupid enough to try fighting Venetia in a sea battle. That was about when Rome decided to take an interest in the welfare of Venetia and Histria and sent his son to offer them additional support against their enemies.

Even back then, Ramnes was already an impressive figure. Tall and tan and handsome as his father, with windswept brown hair and gold-brown eyes and the faintest hints of stubble on his chin. His armor had glinted in the sunlight as he came to the door of their home.

"Do not be afraid of me," he had said. "I am Romanillus, son of the great city of Rome. My father offers you his protection against those who would harm you. We have heard about your triumphs against the Spartans, the Illyrians, and the Celts, and yet we fear for your safety against Gaul. She has been marching against all of Italia, burning and looting and pillaging everywhere she goes."

"We have stood against Greece," Venetia had responded proudly. "Is a savage like Gaul any threat to us? Especially when we still wait for Greece to attack us once more."

"Greece will never come after you again. If she ever raises a hand to harm you, my father and I will pledge our swords and shields to your service. If you will swear your friendship to us and stand with us to resist all foreign invaders like Greece, Gaul, and Carthage, then we will always protect you in return."

"And what do you desire in exchange for this friendship?" Histria had asked cautiously.

"We ask only for amicitia. Perhaps, one day, we may wish to establish a trading station with you, but, for now, our sole interest is in an alliance against Gaul. I know we Romans are not admired much by our neighbors, but we only wish for us all to be united in friendship against our most hated enemy. For we are all one Italia, and we must stand together or face destruction."

Venetia and Histria withdrew for a few minutes to quietly discuss the arrangement before returning with their answer that, yes, they would be friends to Rome. That whatever he would ask of them that was within their power to give, they would give it.

Now, Venetia was prepared to give the ultimate gift within her possession. Herself – her body, heart, and soul – would be commended into the care of Rome's eldest and most beloved son.

He had not only protected her and her sister, but he had raised them up out of the dark shadows of the northeast. While Venetia and Histria had always been sought after as trading partners, the Sicilians had cheated them ruthlessly and tried to take control of their own ports away from them. Rome and Ramnes had removed Sicilian authority and built Aquileia as a new center of trade, establishing roads and advanced architecture and planning, bringing order and peace and the beautiful language of Latin so that Venetia and Histria were finally brought into the civilized world as part of a unified Roman Italia.

"I cannot believe how ungrateful Magna Graecia was in her marriage to Romillus," Venetia said. "She seemed only too happy to have the divorce."

"I wouldn't pretend to know how Greeks and Greek colonies think," Noricum said. "Tilt your head back, I'm going to administer some perfume."

Venetia did as she was bidden and soon caught the rich scent of saliunca. It was a sweet-smelling plant, very similar in nature to lavender, which Noricum prided herself on using to create highly-coveted perfumes. Carefully, she dripped little droplets of the fragrant oil onto Venetia's skin and hair.

"There, fresh as a mountain breeze," Noricum said upon finishing her application of the perfume.

"I hope it won't conflict with the scent of the flowers in my wreath," Venetia said, reaching up to lightly fidget with the flower crown.

"Don't jostle it about!" Noricum exclaimed. "I had to pin the thing in place. Do you wish to jab yourself in the head?"

Venetia looked up at her friend with a sheepish smile and a blush.

"And, to answer your question," Noricum added, much more calmly. "The flowers should be fine. They are more for color and decoration than scent, anyway. That's why I added the perfume."

"Well, don't be stingy," said Histria, reaching out a hand. "Pass some of that my way."

"Get your own," Noricum said, tone waspish. "This stuff doesn't grow on trees."

"Actually, it grows in huge fields in your little backwater of a kingdom."

"Hmph, even the tiniest drop would be wasted on you."

"At least I'm not the one bathing in pools of the stuff to cover up the stench I picked up from spending time with Pannonia."

"Why you little-!"

"Iulia, Floriana, please stop fighting," Venetia said, nearly crying. "Your constant arguments are ruining what's supposed to be the happiest day of my life."

"I'm sorry," Histria said contritely. "You are right, Rufina, that got out of hand."

"It was most undignified," Noricum admitted. She then shot a hard look at Histria. "But kindly keep comments about Pannonia to yourself."

"Did someone say my name?" said young woman as she poked her head in the room. She was of fairly average looks. Her light brown hair was short and curly, more like that of a young man than a lady, and her eyes, while a pretty shade of brown, were not exceedingly remarkable. She was roughly-dressed, as well, eschewing the fine dresses worn by the Romanized women in favor of more rustic attire – indeed, looking at her, one might mistake her for a man were it not for her noticeable chest. The masculine image was further compounded by a slight aroma of dog.

Pannonia was known for her love of dogs and the quality of the animals she bred, and the scent was testimony to that fact. Noricum had once smelled heavily of cow and Veneti of horse, but they'd eventually managed to get rid of it thanks to Rome introducing baths to their lands – but Pannonia did not have the same luxury, unfortunately.

"Salve, Pannonia," Venetia said, trying not to wrinkle her nose at the smell.

"Are you finished getting ready, yet?" Pannonia asked. "The decorations are all up and that stuffy, annoying emperor guy should be arriving any moment."

"I'd speak a little more respectfully of Emperor Augustus, if I were you," said Histria. "One day, you might just cross him and end up as nothing but a little province for Rome to demand tribute from, like Gaul and Greece."

"Hah, that'll be the day," Pannonia scoffed. "Noricum and I are of Taurisci blood, and we bow to no one. Isn't that right, Floriana?"

"Quite," said Noricum.

"If you both dislike Rome so much, why do you use the Latin names he gave you both when you became his client kingdoms?" said Histria. She smiled at Pannonia. "Well, Prisca?"

"We only use them because our real names are so savage they might offend your delicate Roman ears," Pannonia said with a huff.

"I think it's our noses we're more worried about right now," Histria muttered. Pannonia heard and started to go for the dagger she kept on her belt.

"How many times do I have to ask you all to stop fighting?" Venetia sobbed.

Pannonia dropped her hand from her dagger and she and the other two hung their heads guiltily.

"There, there, Rufina," Histria said soothingly, enfolding her sister in her arms. "Don't cry. We're all…friends." That last word was very strained. "And we just want to make today special for you. I'm sorry that we keep getting worked up at each other, but I promise we won't let it happen again."

Histria shot a warning look at Noricum and Pannonia.

"Right, ladies?" she said, eliciting nods and forced smiles from the others.

They were interrupted by a furious pounding on the door.

"Are you girls finished?!" the impatient voice of Sabine called from outside. "Everything's ready and the emperor is here! Get out here, now!"

"Well…" Pannonia said, giving a now-panicking Venetia a sympathetic look. "Best of luck having that as a mother-in-law."

Rome smiled as everyone was gathered together in the large atrium.

It was one of his favorite places in his palace. A wide, open-air sunken courtyard with a large impluvium pool in the center. It was practically a park with the fountains, flowering shrubs, and luscious fruit trees he had decorating it. Most homes just had a room with a little opening in the top to let rainwater into the impluvium, but Rome was never one to settle for what the common folk had and he needed to ensure his atrium was the height of luxury. It was an excellent place to sit and contemplate the world, and then get drunk with his friends.

Considering how hot the late June weather was, Rome was incredibly thankful that weddings always take place in the nice, breezy atrium with its cool, marble tiles and not in some stuffy private room or the smoky interior of a temple.

It also made listening to Augustus drone on and on about moral fortitude a little more bearable.

"…and the reason why everything started to decline in the Republic was because men and women were only considering their own personal pleasure, rather than the posterity and security of the family and the empire," Augustus said in his normal, pompous tone. "That is why we need structure, order, and efficiency in both the state as a whole and within the family unit as an individual component of the state."

Rome was half asleep by that point. As much as he admired his emperor in certain ways, the man was no great orator. Several times, Rome felt Ramnes elbow him slightly to wake him up.

At least Ramnes seemed to be in a good mood. He was wearing a new toga and new sandals and had a flower crown on his head. He was smiling pleasantly at everyone and nodding along as Augustus continued his lecture on moral obligations. Ramnes was definitely more eager for this marriage than the last, especially considering he'd been so drunk on the day he'd married Magna Graecia that he hadn't even bothered to turn up for the ceremony – he'd sent a slave with his letter of consent, which was all that the law required. Magna Graecia had griped at Ramnes for decades about it.

While Augustus droned on, Rome went through a mental checklist of all the necessary details for the wedding.

A pig for the final ritual sacrifice to give one more confirmation of the gods' approval of the marriage – check. He'd even ordered in a few extra pigs for the reception feast tomorrow.

Appropriate wedding clothes for the bride – check. He'd specially commissioned Crete for her famous saffron yellow fabric to make Venetia's veil, cloak, and new shoes.

Marriage contract – check. It wasn't really a requirement, exactly, but Rome felt it would make things a little more official as it would verify Venetia's status as a Roman woman entitled to all the rights and privileges of her rank.

At least ten witnesses – check. Besides Rome, Augustus, and the priest who had done the morning sacrifice and entrails-reading, there were several client kingdoms and Roman provinces in attendance. Macedonia, Syria, Judea, Galatia, Armenia, Crete and Cyrenae, Pergamon (now going by the name of "Asia," though it felt weird calling him that), Pontus and Bithynia (the former of whom kept glaring at Rome), Africa Nova, Africa Proconsularis, Noricum, Pannonia, Cilicia and Cyprus, and Rome's Vestal daughter Luceres. Everyone was perfectly happy to attend as auspicious an occasion as this, as wedding invitations are the one social engagement no one in the Roman Empire could ever refuse. All right, so Rome had to threaten one or two of his guests to come, but they still counted and Rome was sure they would have a good time.

Rome had a few other minor additions to his checklist, like the wedding reception. After all, a reception was purely optional, but Rome liked a good party so he spared no expense to show off for his guests.

Rome was shaken from his musings as the wedding guests began to hush each other. Next to him, Rome sensed Ramnes stiffen in nervousness. The proud pater familias smiled reassuringly at his son who could do little more than stare as Venetia was led into the room.

In a white, hemless tunica recta, wrapped up in her saffron palla cloak, a woolen band tied around her waist in the sacred Knot of Hercules, and her face covered by a flammeum veil that was topped with an elaborate wreath of narcissus, oleander, roses, poppies, and violets, Venetia was guided into the atrium on either side by Sabine, who was serving as pronuba, and Venetia's sister Histria. As always, Sabine looked formidable, especially beside as innocent and delicate a maiden as Venetia – where Venetia was flowers and soft words, Sabine was golden crowns and harsh looks.

When they reached where Rome and Ramnes stood waiting, Histria took Venetia's hands and placed them in the hands of Ramnes.

"On behalf of my sister, as we have no living father to give her away," said Histria. "I, Adriana Iulia, say that Adriana Valeria Rufina consents to be married to Lucius Valerius Romanillus. And I charge you to care for and protect my sister for as long as you call her your wife."

Ramnes and Venetia, hand-in-hand, approached the family altar. A set of tables had been set up – one with the marriage contract and one with the pig that was to be sacrificed. Augustus, in his role as Pontifex Maximus (the supreme high priest of the College of Pontiffs), approached the bound pig and cleanly slit its throat as the animal squealed and thrashed on the table. The priest from earlier, eager to assist the emperor, offered his aid in slicing the animal open for another reading of the entrails – Augustus accepted and allowed the man to help him as they cut open pig's belly, drawing forth a rich, red gush of blood. The blood from the animal was drained off into separate bowls and Augustus reached inside the pig's belly to drag out the creature's moist organs, which he laid out on the table for inspection.

"The gods have granted their approval for the marriage!" was the pronouncement, which elicited enthusiastic cheers from the crowd.

With that, Ramnes and Venetia signed their names to the marriage contract and were ushered to sit on a pair of stools that had been covered in the skin of the sheep that was sacrificed earlier that morning. Venetia was then bidden to give the sacred words.

"Ubi tu Gaius, ibi ego Gaia," she said. For those uneducated in Latin, this sacred oath could be roughly translated as "Wherever you are Gaius, there am I Gaia."

And, upon the utterance of those words, Ramnes lifted her veil. She was a pretty young thing. A pale, round face and honey-brown eyes, with long curls of auburn hair tied back in six coiled locks (which had carefully been parted with a spear tip and fastened in place with ribbons, as per tradition). Around her neck was a plain necklace of amber beads which Ramnes had given her as an engagement gift. Not for the first time did Rome feel his son had made a good choice, especially seeing how happy the boy was as he leaned in to kiss his new bride while the onlookers continued in roaring with enthusiastic joy around them. Even stern and humorless Augustus couldn't help but smile for the couple.

The couple was then handed a small cake made from spelt grain. They each took a small piece, which they fed to each other, and then set the rest of the cake within the family shrine to the Lares.

"Feliciter!" the wedding party chanted.

Once they had all celebrated with the extravagant wedding dinner, the procession was formed.

Normally in a wedding the bride was brought from her father's house to her husband's house, but as Rome was her guardian and she would continue to live in the same household, Rome had arranged something a little different.

There would be a large procession out of the palace and into the city and then back up to the palace where Rome intended to see the young couple to their new, private residence on the estate.

Rome had spent the better part of a year organizing it when his son had expressed a wish to have his own domus to raise his family, especially considering he was to have a new wife. The palace was already a massive estate with a huge stretch of private gardens in the back that were enclosed by wall and backed by a large building that had been left unused. Rome had renovated the empty building into a beautiful domus (smaller than the main house of the estate but much grander than what most Roman nobles had) with plenty of workspace, living areas, and private rooms, and even a private bath like the one in the main house. Ramnes could move in there with his new wife and the children from his first marriage; they would have their own space and Rome could keep his family close.

The crowd was still cheering as Ramnes led the rowdy group with Venetia trailing demurely behind him. Venetia was escorted by three little boys (her stepson Vaticanus, Rome's son Byzantium, and Emperor Augustus's stepson Tiberius); Byzantium and young Tiberius stood to either side of her, each holding her hand as they walked with her, while Vaticanus carried the hawthorn wedding torch (the flame for the torch had been carried to the house from the Sacred Fire at the Temple of Vesta by Luceres as a special honor). Behind Venetia, the ladies in her entourage carried domestic objects, such as the distaff, spindle, a bundle of wool, and a jar of oil.

The party made their way loudly through the streets, shouting and singing and inviting strangers to join the procession. Ramnes tossed coins, nuts, and little sesame cakes to the crowds of well-wishers that came up to him. Along the way, Venetia dropped a coin for the gods of the crossroads. Some of the guests began singing the versus Fescennini, as series of dirty songs that were frequently used for such occasions, or else they chanted the Talassius wedding cry.

When the boisterous group finally made their way back towards the palace, Ramnes and Venetia were startled when Rome steered them away from the front entrance and around the building to the entrance of their new domus.

"Pater, is this really for us?" Ramnes asked as the procession came to a stop.

"Of course it is, my son," said Rome with a fond smile. "For you, and for your wife, and for your children, so you may have a place of your own but never need be strangers to your father and mother."

Ramnes gave his father a watery smile and, after sharing a look with Venetia, the couple embraced Rome together in a thankful hug. Rome hugged the two of them back, feeling tears in his own eyes.

It was silly, Rome thought to himself. After all, Ramnes had already been married once before and it wasn't as if either he or Venetia was really going anywhere. And, yet, this wedding was so different from the one between Ramnes and Magna Graecia. There was genuine affection and happiness. And, perhaps for the first time, Rome realized how grown up his son truly was. His beloved firstborn son, his heir, the young man who looked so much like him, really was no longer a child.

Finally, the young couple withdrew from the embrace and the last details of the ceremony could take place.

Venetia was drawn in her sister Histria's arms in a similar embrace, only to be pulled away from her by Ramnes in a reenactment of the Sabine daughters being taken by force from their mothers' arms by the Roman men (Rome tried to ignore the piercing look he was getting from his wife). Ramnes led Venetia to the door of their new home where she wound bands of wool around the doorposts and then took up the jar of oil which she used to anoint the door.

Upon completing this task, Ramnes hoisted Venetia into his arms and carried her over the threshold and into the atrium of the new house so that she wouldn't risk tripping as she entered their home for the first time. Once they were inside, Ramnes set Venetia back on her feet and held a small platter with a lit oil lamp and a small jug of water.

"To you, I give fire and water," he said. "With these symbols of life, I invite you into my home to be its matron and keeper."

Venetia bowed her head and placed a coin in Ramnes's hand and then took another coin, which she set within their new lararium shrine. She then accepted the hawthorn torch from Vaticanus and made her way to the hearth where she ignited a fire and extinguished the torch. She then returned to the front door, out of which she tossed the torch which was immediately scrambled for by the wedding guests in order to receive the good luck it would give.

Lastly, Sabine strode proudly into the house and guided her new daughter-in-law to the large, gilded couch that had been set up in the atrium while the guests were ushered away. Sabine removed the flammeum and palla from Venetia, taking care when lifting the flower crown as the pins came loose, and motioned the younger woman to sit. Rome watched from the doorway as Sabine withdrew, stopping only to give her son an unusually tender look (it wasn't quite a smile, but it wasn't her normal frown). All other things being concluded, the only remaining custom was the untying of the Knot of Hercules from the bride, something only her husband was permitted to do.

And, with that, Rome shut the door to the house, leaving the young couple all by themselves as he and Sabine led the party back to the palace to await the wedding reception that would take place the next day.

Author's Note: And there we have the parents of our dear Italy Veneziano.

I'd say this is set about 31 B.C. as it is not too long after Cleopatra was defeated (30 B.C.) but prior to when Pannonia and Noricum tried – and failed – to invade Histria (16 B.C.) and ended up losing their client kingdom statuses to become provinces, and also prior to when Tiberius's biological father died (32 B.C.) as the boys who escorted the bride in the wedding procession had to have both their parents still be living.

Not everything shown in this wedding would have always taken place. This is a confarreatio (a Patrician wedding) employing all known Roman traditions, but different families would sometimes not have certain elements of what I showed (only consent of the families and the couple and the presence of witnesses were really needed for a marriage to be valid).

After the Rape of the Sabines, Romulus established three tribes of Romans. The Ramnes (Latins), Tities (Sabines), and Luceres (Etruscans, probably). These were largely created as a way of organizing who got to vote, and additional tribes were later organized to replace these three and became connected more with family names or locations in Rome. So, since I couldn't find out what happened to the original three groups, my theory is that Ramnes became the Western Roman Empire, Tities just sort of faded away, and Luceres became a Vestal Virgin until she also vanished (this is a reference to the Luceres not initially having equal rights with the other two tribes and, therefore, not having their own two Vestal Virgins until much later in pre-Republic Rome).

There were technically three different Veneti tribes, but the Adriatic Veneti were an Italic people who formed a close bond with the Romans and, for their loyalty, were eventually granted Latin Rights (the right to marry with Romans) and citizenship. Despite initially being considered a weak tribe, the Veneti managed to resist Greek conquest and actually defeated the famous Spartan warriors in battle. The Romans considered the Veneti (and their kindred the Histri) to be lost descendants of the Trojans, like the Romans, themselves, and wrote whole mythic histories for the Veneti to validate this claim (even though the Veneti were actually a mix of Illyrian and Celtic tribes). They are considered the ancestors of modern Venetians.

'Lovino' is not a real Italian name, but it could be either a variant on the name 'Luigi' or a reinterpretation of the Latin name 'Lavinius' (a male version of 'Lavinia,' a minor Roman family named after the wife of Aeneas, the mythic ancestor of the Romans).

Also, technically-speaking, neither of the Italy brothers should have the surname of 'Vargas,' as that is very specifically a Castilian Spanish surname that is also very popular in Latin American countries (it might make some sense for Romano, considering his Spanish upbringing, but it really doesn't for Veneziano). I think Himaruya cut a few corners when he picked human names for characters.

Romano should also probably be 'Italia Napoli' as he seems to represent the Kingdom of Naples more than anything (believe me, I've been to Naples and his attitude fits that place perfectly).

Pergamon is not the continent of Asia. It is a region in what is now Turkey, but the Romans referred to it as "Asia" after the kingdom was willed to Rome by the last king of Pergamon.

Noricum was a large part of what is now Austria and Pannonia was mostly what is now western Hungary (as well as parts of Slovenia, Croatia, and Serbia).